Mother

I wrote this one when I was super hurt and really angry. I wrote it kind of as a story book that has a start and a finish. Bad start good finish with the characters. Because it does say jesus freak and hypocrite thats going to hell, i am not putting myself above her. We are all sinners. But in this particular poem and as my emotions being as they were when i wrote it, I took the beginning and end into weighty extremes of contrast to give the poem tangible emotion so the reader could feel how i was feeling then.

this is it:


My mom's a control freak;
Wow, ain't that neat?
But I'm a Jesus freak,
So have a seat.

I gotta tell ya somethin',
So listen well.
It's all about a hypocrite
that's going to Hell.

She says, ¨Do as I say, not as I do.¨
Jesus freak--she claims to be one too!

When it comes to the day when she goes up to the sky,
God will send her far back down with a shrieking cry:

¨I DO NOT KNOW YOU! SO GET OUT OF MY SIGHT!¨
¨Why?¨ She asks, ¨All I did was do everything out of spite.¨

Down, down, down she went.
Sadly on that day her soul was spent.

Thankfully that day is yet to come.
For my mom, let's pray some.

O Lord, will you heal my mom's heart from all the wounds she's had?
Will you make her heart one that is joyful, cheerful, and glad?

O God by your hands alone
Make her heart stitched together and sewn.

Healed, God. Healed.
Make her old life repealed.

Create in her a pure heart that has you as number one
And the Holy Spirit and the Son.

I pray all this in Jesus' graceful name,
Hoping that, with a pure heart my mom will soon do the same.

Amen.

A Summer in Shackles

I awoke at dawn to calamity.
Known and unknown voices tell me to rise.
I stumble into the living room dizzily;
I can't believe my sleep encrusted eyes.

Binding his hands are iron clad restraints.
On his face shame; mixed with something I can't name.
I've lied to myself too long--you are no saint.
From now on my life will never be the same.

I draw what I've seen on a paper pad
and then hand it back to the police officer.
The drugs. The pills. The stealing. THE LIES. Why dad?
How could you? How could you do this to your daughter?

¨I'm sorry.¨ You say. I don't know for which part.
Sad thing is; I've known of what you do from the start.