Mother To Son, Track 1, Rec (4)
I fell in love with this poem the moment I read it. Langston Hughes is one of my favorite poets. I love the rhythm and the images.
Mother to Son
Well, son, I’ll tell you:
Life for me ain’t been no crystal stair.
It’s had tacks in it,
And boards torn up,
And places with no carpet on the floor—
But all the time
I’se been a-climbin’ on,
And reachin’ landin’s,
And turnin’ corners,
And sometimes goin’ in the dark
Where there ain’t been no light.
So, boy, don’t you turn back.
Don’t you set down on the steps.
‘Cause you finds it’s kinder hard.
Don’t you fall now—
For I’se still goin’, honey,
I’se still climbin’,
And life for me ain’t been no crystal stair.
“Occasionally I am reminded that perhaps I should write a poem.” This statement prefaced a poem written by my daughter in an email she sent the other day. She has been writing poems since she was quite young. I want to share it with you.
Words with others like it
to clear the mind and feed the rest.
Words hidden under a cloak of deception
yearning to be misread.
Words as simple as a flower’s petals
which bend over the anxiety of being so beautiful.
Words which help find meaning in the wells of uncertainty
as profound as an older man
delicately unfolding his morning paper.
A smile without the effort that stains it.
A poem like so many before it.
I cannot believe that almost a whole year has passed since I wrote my first post for Poemattic. One hundred and eighty-one posts later, I feel like I have shared so much with my faithful 101 followers thus far. I have learned so much from other WordPress bloggers . It is like I have taken a year-long course. I want to thank all my followers. Every time I receive a new comment or see that little orange star on my dashboard my spirit is lifted.
I have tried to get some of you to take part in a few challenges. I hope that I am able to create more ways to get you to interact. The purpose of Poemattic was to create a space for you to share original or very favorite poems. I am hoping to be considered for Freshly Pressed Award.
I will start posting original recording of my poems. I love reciting and during National Poetry Month this year I will launch a page with audio-recordings of my poems.
Please continue to visit Poemattic. I love the company and feel Like I am a member of a very special community.
I need to find a special place
to hide my dreams away.
my memory has left me now
although I begged it to stay
nothing else remains that dear and
time has been so frivolous,
it can’t make up its mind
whether or not,
to stick around
and let me be the one to decide
as to whether
I want to stay
that mattered most
like those dreams
I try to keep in a safe place
that never did come true
and are so hard for me to face.
Born a Bronxite
A faithful New Yorker
from Manhattan to Queens
Brooklyn and back
both as an individual citizen
of the city that never
snoozes or naps
and as mayor
pinnacle of power
he often got a bad rap
an icon became
a household name
his city of fame
toughest of times.
He loved his great city
and taught us all a lesson or two
about standing up for what is right
and not ever letting go of the fight
We will miss his candor,
his prolonged utterances
when making a point
in the name of his fellow
from the Staten Island to Hunts Point
We all know what he’ll ask
at the big Pearly Gates
and he shared with us what
would be his epitaph
Just as he would like it
he had the last word.
“He was fiercely proud of his Jewish faith. He fiercely defended the City of New York, and he fiercely loved its people. Above all, he loved his country, the United States of America, in whose armed forces he served in World War II.”
May You Rest in Peace Mr. Koch!