Look at Me, Mama

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rHB1Q13LID4 Link to my you tube channel where I read my poetry.

I'm an athlete.

I can throw and catch, 

and run in the sun-

all shiny and bright.

And you just sleep, sleep, sleep.

Look at me, mama.

I'm a writer.

I do poetry and stories, 

all pretty and pink, 

and all you do is, 

sleep, sleep, sleep.

Look at me, mama.

I can dance.

I'm lonely, 

I'll move to France, 

meet a woman, get married.

Look at the ants crawl through

the spilled red juice on

the grass; nature everywhere, 

as you sleep, sleep, sleep.

Look mama, 

look at me, mama! 

I have children now, 

all good and wise, 

you're a grandma.

Why don't you wake up? 

Please look at me, mama.

I'm lonely and afraid.

I'm old now, and cold, 

and you still, 

just

sleep, sleep, sleep...

Author's Note

Check out my limited edition e-book, Rise Up Collected Poems and Short Stories, available on Booksie.com and my book, Seedy Town Blues Collected Poems is available on Amazon.

Reviews

[John the Baptist]

A rather strange offering here. The speaker keeps imploring his mother to wake up and pay attention to him. Mama, however, continues to be unresponsive. We must assume that literal sleep is not being referred to here. Evidently the speaker did receive insufficient maternal attention in his youth and on some level has never gotten over it. But Mama continues to sleep. She may in fact be dead.

[Thomas W Case]

Yes. Thanks for reading, John.

[emmajoygreen]

When we seven children caught our mother at full stop, we immediately thought something was wrong, seems she happily got on with life and rarely rested. Her idea of rest was gardening or painting! too much of that, sorry.
But what a child or children want, need, is that special being who kisses foreheads whatever is wrong and makes a twisted ankle or nasty cut disappear. For any child to not have that attention, not know t that special look that says I love you loud and clear, must hurt like the hell a child doesn't know about there and then. I've just read for the fourth time.. and feel there is something extreme. A tragedy? Have done what I rarely do: peep down. Yes, that sleep and still more sleep, time and time again may be the worst thing that could happen to a wee child. Fine writing but- what a terrible outcome. To never know..

[Thomas W Case]

Thank you so much for the read and kind and thoughtful comment.

[emmajoygreen]

Your words really touched me..

[Abhilash Hegde]

This is a heart pouring of a poem here. Reads so poignant. You beautifully express what you feel here. Mothers are the most sacred souls out there and there is nothing that can replace their love, care and happiness for their child. We always feel the most safest and happy in our Mother's lap. Very delicate and deeply expressed poem. Thanks for writing and sharing, Thomas.

[Thomas W Case]

Thank you. Much appreciated.

[Re-Pete]

creatively and emotionally told. we are forever our parent's children and seek their approval. the world seems like a lonely and cold place when they are no longer with us. we are now on our own to find our way just as they were. they've earned their eternal rest.

[Thomas W Case]

So true. Thank you, Pete.