Poem 3-for march

eventually I will write about my life, but whatever, enjoy my very personal poems, again orginal and revised, if anyone actually reads my blog, tell me which one is better

Mother Mary Mercy

Smooth granite
Entrance, manicured grass.
Lobby,
Mary worshiping
In a pool of dead wishes
Oh Mercy,

Wheels of steel hitting laminated tile
Crystalline eyes peering though, air
Paper cloth surrounds,
Weathered hands, bruised
Touching
Protruding stomach,
Her linage, inside.

Sly, smile, awkward glance
Before murderous rage
Ninety five pounds lunging,
At Mercy.
Oh Mother Mary.

White table
Crowded by voices
Feeling needles in
Tenderized tissue

Infant cries, arms empty
Floating in a convoluted hemisphere
Having conversations with Mary
Over death, Oh blessed Mother
Lights appear, arms filled with soft flesh
Oh Sweet,
Mercy

Delicate finger wrapped
Around aged perspective
Words spoken, only known by deaf ears





Pink candles, on yellow cake
Smoke fills with breath, as tears drain
Though muddy cob webs
Oh how Mary, is counting out
Her daughter’s years.

Knees flushed with red stains
Hands clasp, clutching white rosary beads
As oxygen mask is clamped
On small face
Oh sweet mercy, let him breath

at bedside
In a pool of dead wishes
Should of, watched
Her decay.

Want to speak now
that what she taught
Want her to know, that now
his growth is like a weed
But no time now, no time now

Tounges and plee’s
‘oh, Mother Mary Mercy take me home’
No home now, stolen beneath her feet
No lies now,
Can’t take her there now, no not me

Running, grabbing the superstition
Oh partial religion
Black beads staining her hand
Tongues of words that I can’t withstand

Knowing her pool is empty, as she
Takes my hand
Oh crystalline eyes,
Oh Mary, Oh Ruth this will be our last
conversation that only we will know

Oh Blessed,



art thou amongst women and blessed is the fruit of thy womb-
Holy Mary Mother of God, pray at the hour of our death. Amen.


Mother Mary Mercy

I am standing outside, dreary hospital gates
Before me
Smooth granite, Entrance
Besides manicured grass.

Inside Lobby,
Mother Mary worships
In a fountain of dead wishes
(Oh Mercy)

Grandmother’s
Wheels of steel grind laminated tile
Her crystalline eyes peer though, stifling air
Paper cloth surrounds, defeated
Weathered hands, bruised
Touching
My Protruding stomach,
Her linage, inside.

Sly, smile, awkward glance
Before murderous rage
Ninety five pounds, goes lunging,
At Mercy, in pink scrubs
(Oh Mother Mary.)

I lay on
White table
Crowded by voices
Feeling needles prodded into
Tenderized tissue

I hear his cries
My arms, empty
(Apparently I am)
Floating in a convoluted hemisphere
Having conversations with Mary
Over death,
“Oh blessed Mother”
Lights appear, in dilated pupils
arms filled with soft flesh
(Oh Sweet,
Mercy)

Delicate finger wrapped
Around aged perspective
Words spoken, between them
only known by deaf ears

She leans down,
On pink candles, on yellow cake
Smoke fills florescent room with strain breath,
As my tears drain
Though her muddy cob webs
Oh how Mary, is collecting
Her daughter’s years.

My Knees are flushed with red stains
Hands clasp, around white rosary beads
That she gave me, only her
As oxygen mask is clamped
Around his small face
(Oh sweet mercy, let him breath)

At her bedside
Sinking into he r pool of dead wishes
Should of, watched
Her decay.

Want to speak now
that what she taught
Want her to know, that now
his growth is like
weed
But no time now, no time now

Her Tounges and plee’s
‘oh, Mother Mary Mercy take me home’
No home now, stolen beneath her feet
No lies now,
Can’t take her there now, no not me

Running, grabbing the superstition
Oh My partial religion
Black beads are staining her hand
Tongues of words that I can’t withstand

Knowing her pool is empty, as she
Takes my hand

Oh crystalline eyes,
(Oh Mary), Oh Ruth this will be our last
Hello

(Oh Blessed,
art thou amongst women and blessed is the fruit of thy womb-
Holy Mary Mother of God, pray at the hour of our death. Amen.)