This Poem was Submitted By: Terrye Godown On Date: 2005-05-03 07:31:13 . . . Click Here To Mail this Poem to a Friend!To Listen to Music While Reading this Poem, just Click Here!
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Broken She was thrity one in ‘fifty five
when her world imploded
he left her with four young children
regurgitating their love
purging himself of fatherhood
escaping his prison
of matrimony
Two coffee cups sat on the table
that day when her friend came
to pick up her clothes
as she lay in the hospital with
the last of their offspring, a baby girl
nursing her hopes and reality
A spoiled cop with a taste
for liquor and sparkly pants
his “on duty” had a double meaning
the war changed many
for better or worse
but the soul is less tolerant than war
Still there were bedtime stories
handmade Halloween costumes
Christmas stockings filled with fruit
and her songs filled the house
I remember how her eyes “swam”
in Madame Butterfly
The car she drove had “fins”
needy eyes framed in pointy rimmed glasses
out of style dresses renewed by a “touch”
she slept in the door-less room downstairs
during our childhood of late suppers
and eclectic leftovers
Winter plastic flapped on our windows
that respite for parents without partners
broken zippers entrapped with pins
belated gifts given unfinished
we all missed my sister’s graduation
But she can’t remember that now
The proceeds from that old homestead
earned her a Master’s degree
a 52 year old with no financial sense
and no one to hang her diploma on a wall
entrusting a new beginning to her autumn years
but God can do anything.
As our humble weddings came and passed
her legacy poured from that worn leather book
onto a new generation of “blessings”
At 80 now, her fragile hands cup
one more thing to be fixed…
four bright, dainty petals
broken off a small porcelain bouquet
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Copyright © May 2005 Terrye Godown
Additional Notes:
A simple tribute to the complex life of Mom.
This Poem was Critiqued By: Latorial D. Faison On Date: 2005-06-04 08:16:45
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.87879
Terrye,
This is one of the best I've read all month and in a long time. This poem touched my soul, my spirit, my heart. I commend you for taking the time to write it all down, and I don't think you missed a beat. I don't know the story, but the way you tell it poetically here comes across so real. I feel as though I was looking through a window of your mother's life.
She seems angelic. You know the issues that you presented here are the issues that lots of moms (and even dads today) and mostly children face. These types of memories are shared by so many.
I think that you begin the poem in a great way. You begin it with, the "so-called" end of her married life, but the remainder of the poem shows that life goes on. Apparently, this wonderful woman knew how to make a lot with a little. That's what so many mothers lack today. It is obvious that she cared for and loved her children so much. If not, she might have gone crazy at the thought of her husband leaving. So many women do, and that leaves the kids with absolutely no one.
I love the language that you wrote in this piece. The "double duty" and the "sparkly pants" are added pieces of zest, and keep the reader intrigued and involved in the story. It reads like a poem, but you give us a sad story, a resilient story of a woman and the last 50 years. How great that education was a force in the lives of her children.
The font you chose to display this piece in was also an added touch to the mood of the poem. Honestly, it brought tears to my eyes, but in the end I celebrate with you the life of this woman, your mother who deserves to be cherished over and over again.
When you look back on life, you still have the memories, and they don't change. They just become more poignant. That's what I keep telling my friends and family. These wounds are still fresh just like their yesterdays unfolded a moment ago.
I'm sure you already picked up on the typo in "thirty" in the first stanza. No big deal (smile).
This one's a beauty. I certainly have to revise my winner's list now. Tough, but worth it. Great job here. You gave me power. I write a lot of poems like this, about my life and my memories. It's great to see someoen else honestly and boldly capturing truth and adversity in poetry still. Keep on writing. I enjoyed reading this one. God bless your mom.
Latorial
www.latorialfaison.com
This Poem was Critiqued By: Thomas H. Smihula On Date: 2005-05-31 08:00:50
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
Terrye,
What depth in the first stanza, so well communicated. Hope clinging on in seen within the second stanza. The makeup of the father and the depth of lost tolerance to his actions clearly displayed in the third. Then you bring into the picture memories by setting the table for the children not losing focus on the importance of life. You bring into the picture at least for me in the fifth stanza a vehicle that reminds me of a Mercury Monclair making me see the styles reflective of the years 1955 through 1960. You have shown well how life is within this splintered family.
The impact you have given the reader about trying to put the pieces together is so well shown in the closing of this piece by displaying it in the last two stanza's. Well done on breaking the before and current into separate areas. Thanks, really enjoyed reading this one. Thomas.
This Poem was Critiqued By: Claire H. Currier On Date: 2005-05-17 04:30:24
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.91304
Poet you have created a masterpiece and I am certain have touched your mom's heart once more........her love kept the family together, creating memories which you have shared well with us.........even memories of your father......though not happy ones at the parting I am sure if you dig deep enough you might recall something nice too......
Good structure, word flow, images, love, emotions fill the entire piece....I did not come from a broken home as they say but your memories were a part of mine as well......the broken zippers, the plastic on the windows, did your family eat the same type of food week after week after week.........ours did and soda was on Wednesday, had to be the flavor dad liked, and we had spaghetti with it........otherwise it was water or milk.......with meals.......beans and hot dogs filled Saturday's lunch and we always ate at the same time of day........7-12-5.........if you were out and about you missed the meal of the hour.......
Mom is still young at 80 and I pray her health has been good.......mine passed away a year ago already, she was 92. Dad died when he was 54 so perhaps I did have just one parent...........for awhile....
You must be so very proud of your mom Poet........she has touched my heart and soul with just your words.
Thank you for posting and sharing with us......God Bless, Claire
This Poem was Critiqued By: Duane J Jackson On Date: 2005-05-15 00:42:32
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.85714
Hi Terrye,
This was a very touching tribute to the inspirational life of your dear mother. In this tribute, you have recounted the various sacrifices she made and hardships she was made to endure, all in the name of love. The love of a mother is special and it is often stronger than any form of love felt by mankind. The imagery is vivid and you give the reader a very real sense of what life was like, leading upto seeing all of you grown up and content, from the time her husband left her till now.
I'm not going to point out what was so poetically good about the piece or how well it flows or about the various vivid images employed. For me,this piece transcends poetry in its inspiration and encouragement not only to mothers but to all who have had to live through struggles.
This isn't just poetry...it's a manifestation of divine love and I am deeply touched and inspired. I am glad you posted this.
Take Care,
Duane.
This Poem was Critiqued By: Mell W. Morris On Date: 2005-05-11 08:54:32
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
Terrye:
I lost a lengthy crit last month on your poem and my new computer
seems to do more harm than good. Hopefully this crit will arrive.
It appears to be a free-verse tribute to Mother at that time of
year.
I truly longed to see my mother but right now neither of us can drive
and rapid transit does not reach her town about thirty-five miles south
of Dallas. (Note typo in thirty in 1st line). I also was reminded of an
old song, "Delta Dawn"...which begins "she was thiry-one (five?)and her daddy still
calls her baby."
Great verbs in Stanza 1 to tell us how horrid it was for her...
world imploded
left her
regurgitating love
purging fatherhood
escaping his prison.
Strong metaphors to detail what a jerk this guy is to leave his already-
burdened wife.
Ist line of stanza 2 should be framed...says everything about her situation.
Friend gets clothes as she has just birthed a baby girl.
Terrye, I'm not sure of S 3's import. A *spoiled* cop? Or a dirty one? A cop
who boozes and lays up with sparkly-pants women is likely on the take as well.
In 5th line, poet tenders part of wedding vows which is perfect there.
I stumble on the next line (6th of S3) each time I read.
I mean I understand the words themselves but "the" soul or "his" soul? Not a
big deal whichever way it goes.
Stana 4 limns a homey scene, perfect here. How tender..."her songs filled
the house" and her eyes with tears to "Madame Butterfly."
The last four stanzas detail a life of deprival for the children and a determined
mother to keep things going. You say in your additional notes that "MOM" had
a complex life and your tribute is simple. For me, her life was simple and your
poem complex. It could be argued well either way but the mother is not an
appealing character to me.
She provides but marginally, uses the sale of home $ to get an M.A., a selfish
move on her part when her children still need basic things.
You end your elegy with Mother at 80, trying to cement the parts of a porcelin bouquet,
four bright, dainty petals. A fitting metaphor of how she tried to give her kids
a home. Also ties the title "Broken" right into the tale.
Splendid writing as always, Terrye; I hope you hang around a while with your fresh-eye
look at the world and people in it. I greatly enjoyed this piece and it only took
one hour to do!
Best wishes,
Mell
This Poem was Critiqued By: arnie s WACHMAN On Date: 2005-05-09 11:11:17
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.00000
Before I read the "notes" I knew it was a tribute to your mother, and a lovely one indeed.
You have remembered the hardships e.g.: plastic windows, broken zippers, etc. which have made you
the person you are today. You have come through it all and survive! All because of your mother.
And yet, with all of that, you really don't speak ill of your father. He probably did the best
that he could despite his love for the bottle. Thanks so much for this lovely piece. It's well
laid out and the title is darn appropriate.
This Poem was Critiqued By: Wanda S. Thibodeaux On Date: 2005-05-03 21:10:28
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 1.00000
Hi Terrye,
So good to see you back. You've certainly been missed. This is no simple tribute, it's
packed full of rich detail, a loving documentary of a woman who overcame all obstacles to
take care of her children, one who only gave, nothing taken for herself but love. When
you study this piece, you see how much the world has changed, how hard it is to find
mothers who remember(literally) their children after taking on a job or career. In this
situation, she had to work. You have written "still there were bedtime stories, handmade
Halloween costumes, Christmas stockings filled with fruit, and her songs filled the house."
I love "eclectic leftovers." Once lived in a town named Eclectic, Alabama. It was lovely
and memorable.
Although I have read this more than enough, I can't say that I would change anything.
It's more than just a slice of life, it's the whole pie in a sense. What a woman she
was! I love true stories about real people.
Take good care.
My best always,
Wanda
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