#poems about parents

[alliwanttodoiscollectpoetry]

Ada Limon ~ Joint Custody

[poetryforcoyotes]

my mother, a majestic tiger

that's how i've always known her

she fends off every animal

against her or me

i am her cub

i always will be

the tiger who i come from

i always looked up to and yet dreaded

would i be like her

on my head i grew antlery stubs

i wonder what she will think

when she sees her cub

when i dream i dream of what she'll say

what she'll do

when she hears of my heresy,

it's not even bad

it's just who i am

what if she won't understand?

i'm not like her

my claws don't slash, they tread the forest

my teeth don't bite, they savour the earth

my legs don't run, they feel the soil

i think she wishes hers did too

cherishing everything, worrying about nothing

i learned it all from her

to live in ways she cannot

only i wish she didn't have to be a tiger;

angry, afraid

sometimes i wish i had borne her

cuddled her close to my side

oh, scared little cub

there's no need to cry

i'm here for you

no need to tremble in your hide

you are tall, you are strong

just like me

i learned all this, you know

from my mother who bore me

she could not speak with a soft voice

nor be there when i cry

not because she didn't love me

she did not know another way of life

i'll be there, little cub

with anything you need

your guardian of the forest

there's peace in these trees

then one day, when you birth your fawn

you'll know how to love them

with soft words, drying tears, loving your way of life

but no matter what, always know

tiger or deer; they will love you regardless

more, much more, than you will ever know

— by me

[bigdivinefemenergy]

I am humorous and creative like my father

I am authentic and gracious like my father

I am honorable and evolving like my father

I am a beautiful extension of my father

From my father, I was taught the balance of femininity and masculinity

I found joy in education, naps, soccer, nature, discovery, Sam Adams, and mowing the lawn

I understand my father and he extends an ear to understand me

I am a light in his life as he is to me

I am an extension of my father’s sacrifices

I am heartbroken and grieving like my father

I am resilient and independent like my father

I am vocal and stubborn like my father

For my father, I won’t fear to shine brightly as I bravely pursue my passions in life.

Happy Fathers Day to all the loving father figures

[guiseofajester]

the moment i truly realized my parents will never understand me is when we were watching an episode of ER, and a guy on the tv called another character a slur directed towards queer people.

i was in 6th or 7th grade, i think, and i didn't want to finish the episode. so i went to my room.

my mom came in and asked me what was wrong, she asked me if i had heard that word before.

i said, "yeah, all the time, in school"

she then asked, "whats the deal then? if you hear it all the time?"

i didn't answer and she left.

my dad came in, frustrated, and asked me what was wrong, he told me my mom really wanted to watch it with me.

he told me to stop sulking, and come back out to watch it

i didn't answer and he left.

i went back out and finished the episode.

and we never talked about it again.

i realized that, while that word is strong, it doesn't hold the same power with them. they'll never understand overhearing it in casual conversation, and knowing that, while it isn't directed at you, it's about you. it's about a core aspect of you.

they'll never understand having it used behind your back, now it's about you. you know that classmate hates you for it.

they'll never understand having it said to your face. that guy a few years older than you doesn't know that you're, in fact, "those people".

"it's just a word" they say

"it's just centuries of fear" i don't say

[ourburningbridges]

Bunny Beast 🐰

to the little girls that lost their souls when confusing abuse for love due to the manipulation of their mothers and fathers. i know you feel dirty. but you are still beautiful. i hope you heal.

she’s a pure white rabbit but inside she’s a wreck.

hates all violence but loves rough sex.

kissed by an angel but she’s black and blue.

“even monsters have hearts too.”

see her smile in a manic state.

hear her cry when she masturbates.

bunny grew to be everything you hated.

don’t act surprised by the beast you created.

-I.F.L 🛻

[troubleloveslove]

The same 4 chords played poorly but in order, means my dollhouse window shutters remain in tact

He remembers my childhood through a cam corder

And is eternally responsible for the kind of men that I attract

[delphic127]

feminine rage

content warning: mentions of trouble with eating, mommy issues lol,

Remember you control the media you consume, please don’t read this if you think this may be triggering, take care of your mental health first

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i never knew rage was anything but feminine

when my mother lost her cool in the car on the way to work, it was normal, yelling about how something i didn’t know or care about

but when i looked at my father

he sat stone silent in the passenger seat

he sat stone still

when i stopped eating

when i begged him for help

when i broke down in front of them when mom said the cruelest words

stone silent

feminine rage is what courses through my bones because i have inherited my temper from my mother

and i have inherited my love and my terror and my good things and bad things from her

and when my parents asked me why

why did i sit stone silent when all they wanted me to do was to speak 

i just looked at my father

a silent plea for them to understand that

the most masculine thing about me is my silence, not my rage

[words-i-think]

Untitled

I stepped out of the shower,

like a child from the womb,

I abandoned my solace in hopes that the light would bring me warmth.

I thought I was ready.

But as I cried my first breath I knew

I would never feel the same warmth

my mother gave.

But the heated water tracing my form can try

and shower spout can sing my lullabies

to hush my cries.

The solace of the womb is a lie.

And the love of another will never be close enough.

Hold me, Tiled Walls,

Hold me with falsified heat as my mother may have.

I can't remember.

Blind me, Steam,

Blind me from the cruelty that lies ahead as my father may have.

I can't remember.

My bones are formed and rigid and cold,

My soft skull traded for a soft heart,

To weak to beat after being beaten.

A World waits for me,

and so a towel is wrapped around me.

[alyssacarry]

i don’t want you to die

[muttparker]

in another universe, i am 7 and i have just learned how to take a shower by myself. my mother runs the water, making sure it is warm. before she leaves the bathroom, i ask for help one last time.

-j

[quaranmine]

i think the whole cringe is dead, radical sincerity, depth of genuine emotion, earnest effort, and unironic love thing that tumblr has going on the past few years has transformed my outlook on things and changed me for the better. but it does mean that now the people i know irl will give me strange looks for being too sappy or too poetic or too dedicated or too excited about about something because they're still stuck in their "well i only like this ironically" phase. guess that's their problem tho not mine <3

[egharcourt]

They say there’s no scene that humanizes Jesus more than his prayer at Gethsemane. Matthew, Mark, and Luke all reiterate the same desperate plea: “Take this cup away from me.” Luke goes even further in describing Jesus’ agony, so tangible it manifested as sweat that fell to the ground like drops of blood. It’s almost theatrical, in a way— the composed Christ inconsolable, the faithful Martyr faltering. 

But I know that anguish is not ephemeral. For it festers within you, bursts out from you when you can control it no more, and ends with you. They only see the eruption. We hear about Jesus as a precocious child, questioning his earthly parents, “Did you not know that I must be in my Father's house?” Does knowing his Father mean knowing his demise? Did that comprehension come later? Was he as oblivious as Issac then, asking his father on their journey, “Where is the lamb for the burnt offering?” At what point did he realize that he was the lamb that God had provided? When he learned that fate meant him to die did he realize it entailed such cruelty?

It’s perfectly reasonable if he didn’t. The sacrificial lamb is always adored. Without blemish, without broken bones, without fault. They dote upon you like a prince until they pin you to the chopping block. Your father nurturing you with a knife in one hand, saying, I love you so much that I’ll let you bleed out for God. 

And you’ve internalized it. You’ll cry when you see the altar, but you’ve long ago conceded that you can’t escape doom. So you bargain to make it a little more endurable, to meet the end with a bit more poise and dignity. It’s the final resolute “May your will be done.” It’s Issac struggling in his binds until his strength is spent, taking one last glance up at Abraham to whisper, Make it hurt less.

"Elegy for the Messiah by the Sacrificial Child-Lamb on the Altar", E. G. Harcourt

[sfsolstice]

exurb1a, from "Mum" in Poems for the Lost Because I'm Lost Too

[cult-of-the-eye]

I wonder how it feels to be the host of a parasite? Do you still love it knowing that it's given you a new chance at life but is also destroying you from the inside? Does its silence seem threatening or comforting? You belong together but sometimes do you wake up in a cold sweat, feeling for something no longer scratching beneath your skin? Is this what love is? Is it?

[srvyxhi]

yes, i understand its their first time living.. but why, do i have to carry that burden of thought? why didnt they think "its her first time living too" i was merely a child, learning how to cross the labyrinth of emotions but the exit was no more even before my eyes could search for it.

-Me.

[ourburningbridges]

Crucified by Absence

another poem for the religiously traumatized … in the perspective of my mother who is obsessed with the sound of her own voice.

Forgive me if you’re bored

and not taken by the lord.

Be still and withstand trauma

that I know you can’t afford.

Why would I care for you

while that’s a job for God to do.

Your pain only enrages me

since it means to tell your truth.

You don’t have a choice

as ears without a voice.

Don’t dare to speak your feelings

because all they are is noise.

-I.F.L 👩🏻‍🍼

how can you be so suffocating yet so absent?