In praise of the most fatal woman of my life. Celebrating her 85th Birthday March 6th 2008


Mother



Without her,
no me,
nor siblings,
no poems
nor silent curses
or happy laughter
filling the space
she cooped
cajoled and stole
out of life
for us

She is a colonizer
of empty spaces
her children
have brought
joy and laughter
to deserts
yearning for life

But also
a devastator
of lush gardens
through her offspring
and their aberration
from the line of life
she fostered
and taught
by precept
and order

A trillion acorns fall
a billion stars outflirt the sun,
quadrillion grains of wheat
and zillion grains of sand
support the universe
uncounted thistledowns
of dandelions sail away
and billions of sea-waves
lick our shores,
of everything
there is a number
or even an obese supply

exept of this
the most solitary
bringer of life
and fate

my mum

that singularity
is shared
by all of them
the many
have their worth
from being
the only one

through whom we are
in part, and
the ones we became
with or without
her blame

Hail Mary!
or Martha,
if thats her name,
all hail
to all of them!

It's Mother's day
each moment
a child knows
its starting point
in embracéd time
and looks back
and salutes
the gateway
to the road
best travelled
with her loving
whispers echoing
in the ear.






Poetry by Teddy Donobauer
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Written on 2008-03-09 at 02:37

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I like this very much 'cause it's very true. Personally, I wouldn't write that sermon but in your hands it's like coming from the Book of Books or better: the psalms. Anyway, I've to admit that even bad memories are bound to the effect that there were no present 'I'. And that is the most important thing within your song. / René

Overall: 5
2008-03-10