sister

God's Great Masterpiece

When God created mothers

He made them stronger than all others

(Including fathers, uncles, nephews and brothers).


He gave all mothers nerves of steel

To cope with young kids who squeal,

And older ones who argue a great deal.


He gave each mother a heart of gold

Containing great love untold,

Never to be bought or sold.


And He also made sure 

That a mother's touch could cure

All cuts and abrasions, whether large or obscure.


And then, as if to disarm

Our fear and alarm,

God gave all mothers a homely, earthly charm.


We take mothers for granted, when really we shouldn't;

And to manage without them we know we just couldn't.

I hate to admit all this, but then, what man wouldn't?!


Copyright © Robert Haigh 1997




 



 

 

 

Author's Notes/Comments: 

The photograph is of my wife and our youngest son.

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Abandoned Child

Folder: 
Poetry

My brother died,

And in his place;

I was born,

But I was repelled.

 

My mother threw me from the table,

Abused me, both mind and body.

My father never present,

And if so, he ignored me.

 

They left each other fast,

'cause mother was a lesbian.

But my father needed a woman,

For his children and as a housewife.

 

The second was quite alright,

Even if she made me eat axis.

Only my sister I couldn't see,

That became off limits.

 

After years they had their divorce,

And then came the third, the most terrible.

My wicked stepmother,

The greatest dictator.

 

She tried to strangle my brother,

Then father did interfere.

She put me in the sanitarium,

With false motives, my fear.

 

Firstly in a crisis-centra,

'cause I run away from home.

Then in the sanitarium,

Where I for six months did roam.

 

In the sanitarium,

Provided with medication.

By which I lost my memory,

Crawling in the emptiness of chaos...

 

Regularly I suffered blackouts,

By which I saw nothing.

Not knowing what I did,

Much like sleep-walking;

And strange vistas occurred.

 

I wasn't suffering delirium,

Is what the doctors told.

So all this time,

I was in the asylum for no reason.

 

Then I had to go to boarding-school,

Where I developed something bad: anger.

I wanted to kill another, a female;

And Nyarlathotep, I am sorry;

Maybe I didn't wanted to commit this act,

But I had to from Satan...

 

What happened was unforeseen,

'cause my room was now aflame.

The building completely in axis,

The police came to arrest me.

 

A year and a half in prison,

Locked away in a cell, in Hell.

A year and a half terror,

The bondage of society.

 

When I got out, there was another project,

Named room-training.

I had to work in a factory,

But that didn't end well...

I started to mutilate myself,

Which I learned in the sanitarium.

They send me to the hospital,

To the psychiatric division.

 

Then again to the crisis-centra,

Which I didn't liked at all.

As if I had to start over,

This was too much overall...

 

Through the open door I escaped,

And from my last money;

I bought a train-ticket,

Which brought me to Ramses.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

My biography in poetry-form.

Ode to My Sister (pt 2)

Folder: 
Family/Friends

I'm sick of your existence
The air your lungs waste
Everything about you
I want to kick you in the face

Every word you speak
Is seeping through your lies
Every cell in your body
Is soaked in my despise

You harm everyone around you
Yet cry "victim" every time
Using everyone for their good hearts
You've used up all of mine

YOU act like you're innocent
With a rap sheet 10 miles long
You have to abuse the System
Cuz you dare not get a job

Aww you have an illness
Boohoo, your fat ass can't work all day?
That's sad, you got bipolar,
Fibromyalgia, and what else did you say?

You lie about your kids
Blaming everyone but YOU
If only you acted like their mother
Instead of doing the shit you do

You can't survive on your own
So you jump from guy to guy
You'll be stupid and pig headed
Until the day you die

It's sad you turned to me
To help you when no one would
And then you told another lie
You really got me good

But that can't happen again
Cuz you are dead to ME
I no longer give a shit
About the air you breathe

I don't care what you do
Just leave me the hell alone
No forgiveness here for you
Don't dial up my phone

Don't try to write me letters
I don't communicate with the dead
If you show up, I'll feel better
If I kick you in the head

Author's Notes/Comments: 

There are no words to describe my sister Beth accurately. The shit she does is not even on a human level. God, help me forgive her! God, help her!

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my sister! 2015

 

                          my sister!       2015

 

 

i wanna tell you about a person who means everything to me

she has always been there for me and its very plain to see

i'm a lucky gal to have someone who's love dosnt waver

i've accepted this special gift that im prowd to call my sister

growing up was hard for me but she was always there to guide

and stuck by me thru hell and back and has never left my side

when i got married into fear i really did so miss her

and i dont say it quite often enough but im glad she is my sister

while we was growing up we've had a special bond

and now that we are adults its grown by leaps and bounds

i hope she knows how i feel and that i'll always need her

the love in my heart will always remain because she is my sister!

 

Author's Notes/Comments: 

i wrote this cuz i miss my sister and was thinking about her shes the best

 

                                                             zoeycup16

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Abandoned Child

Folder: 
Poetry

My brother died,

And in his place;

I was born,

But I was repelled.

 

My mother threw me from the table,

Abused me, both mind and body.

My father never present,

And if so, he ignored me.

 

They left each other fast,

'cause mother was a lesbian.

But my father needed a woman,

For his children and as a housewife.

 

The second was quite alright,

Even if she made me eat axis.

Only my sister I couldn't see,

That became off limits.

 

After years they had their divorce,

And then came the third, the most terrible.

My wicked stepmother,

The greatest dictator.

 

She tried to strangle my brother,

Then father did interfere.

She put me in the sanitarium,

With false motives, my fear.

 

Firstly in a crisis-centra,

'cause I ran away from home.

Then in the sanitarium,

Where I for six months did roam.

 

In the sanitarium,

Provided with medication.

By which I lost my memory,

Crawling in the emptiness of chaos...

 

Regularly I suffered blackouts,

By which I saw nothing.

Not knowing what I did,

Much like sleep-walking;

And strange vistas appeared.

 

I wasn't suffering delirium,

Is what the doctors told.

So all this time,

I was in the asylum for no reason.

 

Then I had to go to boarding-school,

Where I developed something bad: anger.

I wanted to kill another, a female;

And Nyarlathotep, I am sorry;

Maybe I didn't wanted to commit this act,

But I had to from Satan...

 

What happened was unforeseen,

'cause my room was now aflame.

The building completely in axis,

The police came to arrest me.

 

A year and a half in prison,

Locked away in a cell, in Hell.

A year and a half terror,

The bondage of society.

 

When I got out, there was another project,

Named room-training.

I had to work in a factory,

But that didn't end well...

I started to mutilate myself,

Which I learned in the sanitarium.

They send me to the hospital,

To the psychiatric division.

 

Then again to the crisis-centra,

Which I didn't liked at all.

As if I had to start over,

This was too much to deal...

 

Through the open door I escaped,

And from my last money;

I bought a train-ticket,

Which brought me to Ramses.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

This is my auto-biography in poetry-form.

exhausted mom

Folder: 
Women

 

 

 

 

 

 

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The Poison In You

What if I wasn't like you?

And I was just me, and Myself was true?

 

And if you did bad would it mean I would too? 

Would it mean if I did it, I'm exactly like you?

 

Would I be subject to your evil?

Would I be subject to your internal upheaval?

 

What if I am good in spirit,

And you might just rather not hear it

 

And if I did bad, does it mean I'm just like you?

Looking for an excuse for the culprit that causes blue?

 

Decisions left to baseless comparison

Myself gone from me, and origin

She tells me so, I'm just like him and her

Do you see my other qualities as just a blur?

 

Bring my poison, she admits me to it

Determines me as someone else and then she sits

 

Then, who am I?

A continuation of your deranged views, someone elses cry?

WHAT LYDIA HEARD.

Lydia
watches through
a thin gap
in the dark

 

brown curtains
her sister
much older
in the bed

 

holding tight
to her tall
spiv boyfriend
and kissing

 

his thick lips
then his ears
which even
nine year old

 

Lydia
finds quite gross
it takes all
her childish

 

innocence
not to know
what the show
is about

 

she looking
through the gap
sees the spiv
put his hand

 

on the nude
buttocks of
her sister
Lydia

 

looks away
looks out at
the green grass
and the flats

 

and windows
opposite
ignoring
the giggles

 

and snorty
sounds she hears
from the bed
behind her

 

behind dark
brown curtains
how the heck
she got trapped

 

behind there
in her games
pretending
the window

 

was a stage
and she a
child actress
awaiting

 

to begin
when her big
sister came
tiptoeing in

 

with the spiv
while hiding
unseen there
Lydia

 

silently
hid her feet
and stealthily
had her peek

 

now she sees
pigeons walk
or kids play
with skip rope

 

or football
or cowboys
and Injuns
but behind

 

the curtains
on the bed
another
game is played

 

two actors
in combat
by the sounds
her sister

 

breathlessly
makes beyond
but innocent
lydia

 

puts her hands
to cover
her small ears
watching kids

 

play their games
and joyfully
run about
ignoring

 

whatever makes
her sister
giggle soft
then loudly
laughing shout.

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INNOCENT GIRL STARE.

You're not eating properly
Eliane's mother said
you've hardly eaten a thing
Elaine who'd been thinking

 

of the boy John
looked up
through her glasses

 

at her mother
at the dining table
got to eat
her father interjected

 

got to eat
my young Plump Hen
her sister said nothing

 

but grinned
I do eat
Elaine said
but she didn't feel

 

like eating
it seemed the least
important thing

 

at that moment
her stomach felt
as if it had fallen
into a slumber

 

not enough
her mother said
maybe she's fallen in love

 

her father bantered
Elaine went red
and lowered her head
and began to nibble

 

at the food on her plate
nonsense
her mother said

 

it's some silly
slimming diet
I bet
not very successful

 

if it is
her younger sister said smiling
John had touched her arm

 

in passing at school
not by accident
but by design
he meant to touch

 

to bring her briefly
into his world
his circumference

 

she still touched
now and then
the area on her arm
he touched (at school)

 

with her fingers
I won't have you dieting
over some silly fad

 

her mother went on
but Elaine ceased listening
the words were buzzing flies
she wanted to

 

flick them away
with a hand
John had talked to her

 

not at her
or about her
(as others did)
or down to her

 

but with her
in a duel thing
he and she

 

kind of exchange
she ate slowly
the food almost
making her gag

 

getting stuck
in the throat
she held onto

 

the image of him
in her mind tried
to focus
on his outline

 

on his features
his words
taking each one

 

she could remember
and turning it over
in her mind
as if it were

 

a rare gem
girls your age
what are you now?

 

14 yes 14years old
ought not to diet
her mother said
breaking into Elaine's head

 

if I see you not eating again
I'm taking to the doctors
Elaine looked up

 

and put on
her good daughter face
that I'll do
whatever you want features

 

and John had placed
a hand by her head
at the school fence

 

his arm brushing softly
against her hair
and he never said anything
unkind about

 

her dark hair
or the metal grips
her mother made her wear

 

and her mother rattled on
but Elaine just returned
her innocent girl
stare.

 

 

 

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