So today, it was either a love, or anti-love poem... which is this? not sure... do remember that my poems are not completely truth, they are poems, with a kernel of truth, and hopefully true to the emotion they express...
Mother Love
my mom, the anti-mom, could pull
the love out from under me quick
as that table-cloth trick, nothing
gets broken, just rattled around,
left off balance, no pop-psych, self-
esteem building for her, just verbal
smack-downs designed to what?
stiffen the spine? keep me humble?
no telling what she kept me from
becoming on the outside, but inside
she spawned a knack for the clever,
if silent, comeback, a way with the
unspoken word, and I say, a gift is a
gift, no matter how you come by it,
so here’s to mom, gone now, but
not forgotten
my mom, the anti-mom, could pull
the love out from under me quick
as that table-cloth trick, nothing
gets broken, just rattled around,
left off balance, no pop-psych, self-
esteem building for her, just verbal
smack-downs designed to what?
stiffen the spine? keep me humble?
no telling what she kept me from
becoming on the outside, but inside
she spawned a knack for the clever,
if silent, comeback, a way with the
unspoken word, and I say, a gift is a
gift, no matter how you come by it,
so here’s to mom, gone now, but
not forgotten
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