Tag Archive | Children; Life; Reflection;Time; Womb; Motherhood;Womanhood;Love

Poem: Mother (2)

Three children sit at the mahogany dinner table

Legs too short to reach the ground

The sun skips through the blinds

The fish tank hums in the corner

Rainbow gold fish swim rapidly


Mother sits tall

Construction paper and glue sticks

Dance around coloring pencils

Smiles bounce of each other

Music coos in the background as 45’s spin


School is out

But house camp has started

Mascot chosen

This year flamingos take flight

Each child draws their depiction of the pink bird


Feathers cut from tiny paper scraps

Mother, she nods in approval

Satisfaction in her response.

“Good job babies”

Arts and craft time ends,


Lessons begin-

History lessons and recess

Playground becomes a fort

Hostages near the stone circle…

Save the gi joes and barbies


Covered in brown dirt

Soiled linens crawl through the grass

Scrapes on knees and elbows dry from rough play

Siblings finding their way back to the back porch in time for lunch

Wash hands and freshen


Cant open the fridge until clean

Mother laughs as each child runs to the bathroom

On the second story

Of the home… noisy

Glass door slams as last child lingers.


Midday in Summer always changes

Though each day stamping itself

Into the hearts of Mother’s harmony

She sings a lullaby

Places the last piece of bread on top of the bologna


Light mayo, no crust…

Children rush the table again

It is here they break in prayer and devour a half days work

And play…

It is here that the teachings are given


And mother is proud of her young.



Poem: Thoughts Upon A Porcelain Throne

Thoughts Upon A Porcelain Throne

The clock
It ticks
With no tock
At twenty minutes past six
A constant annoyance
Reminding me real time
Waits for no one
Sitting upon a porcelain throne…
With my womb
Crying out its bloody rage
Against my womanhood
And I wonder
In this moment
what joy it is to be a woman
Though I banter at the thought of conception
I secretly desire a child…
One who’s laugh is like that of my grandmother’s
Who’s walk is like my grandfather
Who’s creativity is like my mother;
But strength equal to my father…
A child- who favors his own paternal glow
But who’s personality is surely a reflection of my soul…
May he or she choose me soon
As age comes with every day
And time I am ever constantly reminded does not wait
As the clock upon the wall
Ticks with no tock
And I am left in this capsule…
Holding a love of life in one hand
And a loss of womb
In another…
Hoping one day…
I will hear the patter of small
Feet beyond the oak wood door that separates us as we release
That which is old
For the pureness of new.

(C) March 2012. Leandrea “Luvleeh Poetiklocks” Hill. All Rights Reserved.

My second morning thoughts inspired by a clock stuck on 6:20…whether that’s am or pm is up to you! Lol!
Peace Love and Poetik Enlightenment


“Spreading Unity Through Poetry”

“I am Renea Nuru. Reborn Light.”