My son, makes me proud, allow me a little moment, before he leaves for university, working hard at his part time job, bringing in the bacon, learning life skills, not gathering moss x

Dropping the boy off at work

Gripping bed edge, bolt upright,
Feet, not ready to process sensations,
In one-way conversations with
the lino.

My body is grounding itself,
A brief ritual,
Seeking charge
Holding fast, in a beautiful momentary limbo,
between some already lost dream,
And whatever arrives today.

I become a spaceman reaching out his fingers,
Into the great depths of empty canvas,
Leaving behind the comforts of the mother ship, and
Walking into the dark,
Weightless, from fatigue,
Sensatory systems not yet able to understand the overload,
Drowning the brain in electrical messages...yet I walk, boldly going forth...

Bigger inhale

I have learnt to master rudimentary conversations,
With the boy, at 4.30am.
We cover general topics of,
"Did you eat?"
"Did you sleep?" and
"What time do you finish?"

His operating system, clearly not yet functioning at full capacity,
Only capable of simple programming.

So I tell him I love him,
But he just needs to know if I'm giving him a lift,
I'd tell him how proud I am that he drags himself to work,
That his work ethics are amazing,
That his friends are still sponging off their parents,
And he will go on to much better things,

That someday, not today,
He will think of these mornings as our time,
But, not right now,
Not on this Sunday
When he craves the comfort of his small bed
And to be lazing for eternity,
He'll understand when he's flown how I'd give anything
For his rudimentary words

I'll remember my beautiful boy
Stepping out into the galaxy
A star shining brightly with promise's white light
All his stories, primed within him, yet to begin.

Poetry by 1LFD
Read 31 times
Written on 2022-07-31 at 06:52

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I agree with Griffoner. This is a really sweet and soft poem, and your love for your son shines through.

The relationship between parent and child is a tricky one but you've reflected the warmth and awkwardness that is tangled together within it well.

Griffonner The PoetBay support member heart!
This is, without doubt, a really soft and gentle poem that reminds us - who are parents - of all the little things that mean, meant, so much to us. It never goes away this feeling. Only yesterday, my youngest, now in her forties, brought all that back to me by here achievement. We are their mothership too, aren't we.