Ah, back when my son was little, and each daily word and thought was ‘mom-ish’
Big Brown Eyes
Tag Archives: motherhood
I can never say enough
about my beautiful mom who’s smiling down today and every day❤️
HAPPY MOTHER’S DAY to all you spectacular moms🌹!
Millie shown here at 25 years of age with my sis Grace:)
Geez man, I wish I had been blessed with that gorgeous broad smile!
Stronger
Honored to have my poem “Stronger” published in Literary Mama-a beautiful testament to the spirit of motherhood…
“Literary Mama first started to take shape in 2002 as a class called Writing About Motherhood taught in Berkeley, California by Amy Hudock. A group of mothers continued meeting at the conclusion of the class, and within months, had connected with other mother writers who, like them, were producing work that was deemed too complex for glossy parenting magazines and too mother-centric for traditional literary journals.”
Stronger
a worn woman stands in my mirror
half-cocked smile working its way to the corners
my mother deserves a joyful daughter
my mother, the one in the mechanical bed
I remember a version of me
standing tall with my broad frame and big hands
(gifts from my dad)
ready to take on life’s traveling circus
I fancied myself a carnival strong-woman
all muscles and charisma
what of this beaten figure confiscating my reflection
proud shoulders curving toward the dirt
hands large like her father’s, now achy and brittle
I long for a return to those 360-mirror days
sauntering like a big cat
pumping fierce iron
positive in mind and powerful in body
yet here I am with the memory
unable to ignite the revival
my beloved weights, big stacks once impressive to many
abandoned on a cold gym floor somewhere
still I lift every day
my mother’s broken body like a heaving sack of flour
from bed to wheelchair to commode
up and down up and down
up ramps down ramps side ramps
in around and back again
with each passing day
I grow stronger
luminous
Happy Mother’s Day to all you wondrous moms!
bella Carmella
when I mock sing
Italian opera
I think of you
your voice
gorgeous and liquid
transcends she does
her bella Carmella voice
her fantastic smile
the young life in those enchanted eyes
out glittering the sparkly attire she enjoys wearing
brighter still the personality beneath those bedazzled fabrics
effervescent in style
in life
spirited as a child
loving
genuine embraces
warmer than any Paul Bunyan’s giant arms could offer
endlessly enchanted am I
of you
your zeal, your zest
passion beyond anything I might ever acquire
but continually strive for
because you are relentless
in your drive for motion
learning
learned
stunning in beauty
still
out, in and all about
and when I mock sing
Italian opera
this year
I will do so in Italian
the language of my ancestors
I’m enrolling in
bella Carmella’s autumn Italian class
for beginners
ready am I to learn
from the most fabulous woman
in my world
I adore you
mother of mine
xoxo
Carmella, 80 years of age pictured here
Birthdays and Band-Aids
We cannot protect our children anymore than we can make ourselves less vulnerable to life. The best we can do is arm them with self-confidence so when their young, conflicted minds step into those ‘precarious’ fields the mantra, “I’m better than this…,” whispers like a gentle school bell, muffled beneath piles of internal clothing.
The big son is still young. He turns fifteen this week. Like many others of his ilk, he enjoys sports. ‘We’ made it through another wrestling season uninjured and now it’s on to football. The big son is a gentle soul by nature–a pacifist at heart. I know it’s impossible to ask for such a divine favor as to keep one’s child completely safe while playing competitive sports, so I’ll just ask that he has fun and only requires a Band-Aid from time to time. And of course, I also ask that every child participating in sports this year remains safe. I know it is a tall order and a selfish prayer.
Last year the big son said to me, “I’ll feel bad if I hurt anyone, mom.”
I responded quite motherly, “Then tackle your opponents with love, son.”
I glanced up at the sky and prayed, “And God, I hope my son is tackled with love too.”
Love Tackle, created last year with Prisma pencil. Partial post previously published around this time last year.
Happy Birthday, Max!
A Good and Decent Bowl
There once was a bowl
a good and decent bowl
it held soapy water
for a tiny infant
when her mother feared
the bath too large
There once was a bowl
a good and decent bowl
anchored beneath the chin
of a little boy
when his stomach feared
nursery school, too big
There once was a bowl
a good and decent bowl
it held on the shelf
for homeless socks
when they feared
losing perfect partners
And so is the life
of a good and decent bowl
Whose owner feared
new children were akin
to delicate birds
and nervous newts
before they grew
too tall and too strong
too fast
May you dream of a good and decent bowl that cares for treasures, both small and too large…
Please note though I’m all Italian I’d like to offer a big, beautiful, festively green Happy St. Pat’s to all!
Photos: Delicate daughter first used good and decent bowl when she was extremely delicate, Nana’s helping hands. Big son used good and decent bowl in mornings – he suffered nausea for 2 months at the start of nursery school. Now the good and decent bowl houses lost socks that dream of being reunited with their significant others. Perhaps one day we’ll bronze the good and decent bowl, as is the good and decent thing to do. 🙂
Art: (both critters endangered) rendered with marker and pencil a few weeks ago for a special project
Life is Short
My Friends,
Life is short
Throw jellybeans at a giant
Challenge a lion to a dueling roar
Whisper into the wind’s ear
Sail the ocean aboard a paper boat
Howl at the moon during sunrise
Life is short
Live it long…
Thank you. Dream until you fall asleep
Kitchen bulletin board and studio table photographed 7 pm tonight. My kiddies photo taken twelve years ago.
anntogether 