Join the Neopoet online poetry workshop and community to improve as a writer, meet fellow poets, and showcase your work. Sign up, submit your poetry, and get started.

Autographs of My Famous Friends

Ma’s hands cupped over her face as
sadness dripped like spring rain that falls from
the sill where orchids bloom from red maple mulch.

I just stood there helpless, thinking that
she had always been so sensitive and
I could see memories flooding her mind.

The book just happened to open to a blank page that
she had written on forty years ago
wishing me a successful and happy life.

Surprised that I still had my book of famous friends,
she put her arms around me and said,
"I love you"

I thought how she is now old and frail
and Dad needs her more than ever - that
I would not see them again.

Soundly they slept as I left that morning,
the morning when mocking birds mocked themselves and
I realized that I was alone to take care of myself…

Style / type: 
Free verse
Review Request (Intensity): 
I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
Review Request (Direction): 
What did you think of my title?
Is the internal logic consistent?
Editing stage: 
Content level: 
Not Explicit Content

Comments

Kudos on your first stanza

This is just beautiful, your muse is really happy to write. Your last stanza is it possible to know more about what you want to say?

Are you trying to say that she will soon be leaving because she is old? That she is tired and wants to be reunited with your dad? Ok I'm coming back soon.

I Love the title.

Thank you...Teddy

I had an ending, took it out then made another.
Good call,

THE MARK
Please comment anywhere anytime.

author comment

This is a very unique book
of autographs
unimaginable
by likes of me

Thanks,

THE MARK
Please comment anywhere anytime.

author comment

Mark, I love your poem. It does pose a few questions, such as whether your Ma is (or was) going to die soon. So sad, the thoughts you express. I've always been sad that I never thanked my mother for all the wonderful things she taught me, especially English, which she spoke to me when I was still in the cradle.
The first stanza is wonderful. Is your Ma included in the book of famous friends?
I shall have to return, this has brought tears to my eyes.
Gracy

*
*
*
"My soul is painted like the wings of butterflies; fairy tales of yesterday will grow but never die, I can fly, my friends.” – Freddie Mercury

Mark thre are no words hat seem appropriate for the beauty of this write. It touched something deep within me perhaps that had been forgotten by choice

Chrys

check out our chat room open to all 24/7

muah

THE MARK
Please comment anywhere anytime.

author comment

I think "intense" pretty much covers it

Thank you,

THE MARK
Please comment anywhere anytime.

author comment

the feeling that you are not speaking of the real death of your parents, but figuratively. That one morning, you awoke to the stark reality, that they are both gone. That it really had finally sunk in. ~ Geez.
.

Announcing the new chatroom! I will be hosting a chatroom on Saturday nights
from 8pm until 9pm [EST] this coming Saturday. Stop in and
shoot the breeze with the Geez. Our Chatroom is open 24/7
.

And can’t help but ask after what really happened there.

I can see the interp either way, as the parental deaths or leaving home for other, equally angst circumstances. You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to... just how the poem resides with me here.

I like the three line stanzas a lot. That’s a powerful form.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Raywhitakerblog.wordpress.com
- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

I was just showing my Ma that I still carried my little book and asked her to sign it again. When she saw what she had previously written she sort of broke down. Ma is very sensitive. They had moved from MA to FL and I doubted I would be able to go back after that visit. They are both still alive and in their 90s. Dad is hanging on by a thread and Ma has not changed much and I still have my little book with "Autographs Of My Famous Friends" printed on the front cover.
I began collecting autographs while in 7th grade ;~)
That's all,

THE MARK
Please comment anywhere anytime.

author comment

We are lucky to still have them. My mother is 93 and still hanging in there. My father has passed on years ago. I still get to talk with my mother, via telephone, [when I can catch her in her room] but this pandemic is keeping us from personal visits. Nice story and I'm so glad that you have your mother's autograph, depicting her as the most famous person in your little book.
~ Geez.
.

Announcing the new chatroom! I will be hosting a chatroom on Saturday nights
from 8pm until 9pm [EST] this coming Saturday. Stop in and
shoot the breeze with the Geez. Our Chatroom is open 24/7
.

Hi, Mark,
So much to like here, especially the feelings of an adult son toward his mother. I think we all feel a little less secure after our parents reach a certain age, or when they eventually pass on. I'm a little baffled with what the book actually is, but no matter. It seems your mother knows how very much the book means to you. Very sweet.
Thank you,
L

having taken in all the feedback from you i have revised your work, in any case i know you dont mind and i know that you will be grateful that in the end it was understood what you wanted to say, and dont beat yourself up these type poems are really emotional to write, i couldn't write about my own mum until 10 years after i lost her, so you are also lucky to have them still

Ma’s hands cupped over her face as
sadness dripped like spring rain that falls from
the sill where orchids bloom from red maple mulch.

I just stood there helpless, thinking
she’s always been so sensitive and
I could see memories flooding her mind.

The book just happened to open to the blank page
That she had written on, forty years ago
wishing me a successful and happy life.

Surprised that I still had my book of famous friends,
she put her arms around me and said,
"I love you"

I couldn’t help but see her, old and frail
and Dad, he needs her more than ever
One day, they’ll both be gone

Soundly they slept as I left that morning,
the morning when mocking birds mocked themselves and
I realized that one day
I was going to be alone to take care of myself…

Thank you...Teddy

It is a personal poem I do not expect all who read it to understand it.
The relativity is very limited.
Thanks,

THE MARK
Please comment anywhere anytime.

author comment

Gotcha.

Thank you...Teddy

XXXSoundlyXXX
Expectantly

they slept as I left that morning,
the morning when mocking birds mocked themselves

XandX
I realized that I was alone
now left bereft
full Marks

XXX to take care of myselfXXXX

send me the link to it please,
Thanks,

THE MARK
Please comment anywhere anytime.

author comment

will find and upgrade
ok Marks

(c) Neopoet.com. No copyright is claimed by Neopoet to original member content.