Mothers
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Talk to pain.Sweet mother of whispers,cradle this misfortune,blanket me in sleep.Wish me a better life,reprieve meinto better thoughts,beyond debris of failure. When you awakened meas an immature child,deep in folded arms,I recall those tearsI let go,as I could notlet you go. Have you understood me,inside my newly formed wombof a greater, older life?You have caressed…
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“For the case of a child who does not weep for the loss of a parent, nor an infant that does not weep for the loss of an older sibling, it is due to the inability to differ dependency from independency. This defines innocence. For what we can define of loss, it is the heavy…
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“No person is ever responsible, in terms of choice. As this would be the same to ask a mother which of her children she would choose to die, since if not, she’d be responsible for them all. All responsibility is, rather, within the realm of not having a choice.” – Modern Romanticism
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Never so muchKept in the dark,Holding upon soil, with an animalStuffed with paper,Paper disused,Misused,Meant for currency,Used for comfort. A bleeding,Rife,Opened soulTo the sounds of a distant fallingOf a woman’s voice.She sends him whispers,The child with the teddy bear,The child with a lonely stare. A spirit,A phantomClung to dirt,And from dirt, to debris. A little tearComes…
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“Freedom is in excess, when we have forgotten our duty, as adults, to witness and supervise over lesser people so they may rise beyond where they will inevitably be stagnated.” – Modern Romanticism Children. Childish adults. These sorts are not meant to have opinions, viewpoints, perspectives… or whatever other synonym there is available. It may…
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“What is beautiful in this world, is anything protected. Anything beautiful in this world, is everything fragile. For the same reason that a mother would protect her child, or the same reason that an organization protects an endangered speices, all things that have weaknesses are protected.” – Modern Romanticism
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Who do you grieve for, When the night has no stars? When the ice of the silent universe Encompasses the space in your mouth, For whom do you scream? He died To your satisfaction. He bled For your wounds. He left, With the wetness of your appetite, Still remaining to dine. I once was trapped…
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Close your fatal wings around me, Once more. Close your bladed arms around me, Once more, For I know you will do so To demand forgiveness. My face is kissed With lips soaked in venom. My childlike face is the maturity of a turnip, Still a seed. Her eyes see the next pain to deal…
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The face of denial will always be the face of Death. How do we prove the existence of God? By believing in the non-existence of God, and that is how. Love, in the form of the highest emotion, the most eternal emotion, extinguishes fear, extinguishes the fear of Death. Because of love, humans are heroic.…
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Father, will you allow me one tragedy?Blessed by your missing love,I have been able to offer from meTo the woman of my destinyOne vow, spoken with trembling lipsAnd a heart that skipsBeats, in the stillness of new fallen sun-rays. Life did not hold me under its nose,Nor under its thumbEnough to belong to the stone.…
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How I love thee, mother of so many embraces,And I’ll cherish thee, with all the spilled many graces.And your hair, that which I see, to reveal how much you care,It is strewn about,Showing your negligence upon yourself,But, where are you to care for you? How I will kiss thee, mother of my Heaven,And I’ll wrap…
Modern Romanticism 