Sunday Scribblings for Nov. 17
“I carry”
The first thing that popped into my head was a mother carrying a baby. The following poem is, unfortunately, true.
--------------------------------------
She was addicted
to meth
so her baby was, too.
All day he swam
in a false
sea
of her making,
wave
after wave
slapping
him in the face,
choking
his brain.
He, finally,
washed up
on the shore
of life
gasping
like a fish
for more than
air
more than his mother
could give him
even though
it had been her gift
for so many
months.
Today
he is clear
but lies
in his crib
uninterested
in his
surroundings,
a gaping hole
in his dreams
that he can’t
satisfy.
~Linda Jacobs
November 17, 2007
16 comments:
Very powerful poem, Linda.
Hits really hard. Why do a few mothers forget their responsibiliets?
oh, this breaks my heart. i work with children with special needs and this story, unfortunately, is very familiar.
love the poem. great job!
Oh Linda, this is so well done. The pared down language doubles the emotional impact.
i work in youth corrections and, unfortunately, i see far too many kids with backgrounds like this.
very well written. thanks.
wow.. that was powerful... so sad.. so much a reality....
the poem is painful, in a stark-but-true kind of way.
by the way - i'm guessing the Mr. Linky didn't like the extra "." in your post title - it wasn't the "17" it was complaining about but the ".17"
The sadness in this poem will stick for a long time. The worst events are created by us. Sad. Nicely presented.
I love it. It's one of the best poems done to the prompt, for sure.
Very powerful well done post! This poem could live on as a testament to the ramifications of drug addiction flowing through generations! So sad but needs to be acknowledged! Loved it!
Peace Giggles
Thanks for visiting my blog and the lovely comments!Love your poetry I'll be back!
Heartbreakingly true. I've seen the fruits of such abuse. What a hard road these innocents must walk.
sad...very
beautiful... truth... truth is always beautiful... even when it is painful... it retains it's beauty...
That's drawing such a clear picture of how that baby begins his life. Beautifully done.
The last lines are very powerful. I have an image of this hole never being filled, the child never quite understanding what went wrong.
Oh my gosh, Linda, you captured it too well.
I have not seen the results of meth, but was involved trying to help a child who was most likely a crack baby... So, your poem doubly broke my heart. I am bookmarking it because it captures so much so well.
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