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Mothers |
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Ladycat 
since 1999-07-05
Posts 782At the edge and a doorway,TX 
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We were talking about birthing children on the streets, when a little pregnant girl looked at me and said, "You're somebody's mother? You don't look a day older than eightteen." What would she know? Especially seeing how she couldn't have been any older than nineteen. I said, "Thank you." Politely and told her that I was 25 and yes I'm somebody's mother. His name is Luke and he is the most special man in my life. She giggled as if giggling was a sport for her and trotted off. Silly girl! I'm somebody’s mother all right. In an era of loveless families and godless dreams. In a time where plastic and makeup make a woman and natural beauty is outlawed. During this time the government will eat us if we don't try to stop them first. This is the time that vehicles will over run the streets if they run at all. Where Jesus is a figure head, the pope should be on a rope and not on strings like a puppet, where everything is bigger, faster, and better, and ever last longer, but we can't seem to find a cure for AIDS, cancer or find a way to feed the starving in America; though we seem to feed other countries easily. Where bedtime stories are out and nightlights are old, where time is money, but money is something we never seem to have enough of. Where people go out to meet others instead of remembering to enjoy themselves in the moment. Where sex is so creepy to some that there is a black market for it. Where animals get better treatment than most humans do, where plants are dying and houses are sprouting. Where email says more than just face to face or even a mailed letter. Where stamps and gas are starting to cost the same, where people are cruel, rude, and nasty right to your face like if you aren't human like they are. Where we worry about taking our kids outside for fear of bombs, gas, and guns, as if there was a war waging in our own streets. Where school just might be a death trap. Where the words I came, I saw, I conquered might end up being a way of life. Where good books, late night movies, and relaxing by the fireplace are not a way of life, but a treat for the poor and middle class. Where getting your way leads to a lonely road. Where the older I get the more paranoid I feel... For not just me, but for my son. My flesh and blood. Yes, I'm somebody's mother. I watched her walk away, but what price am I going to have to pay. Love, Ladycat Dancing is the loftiest, the most moving, the most beautiful of the arts, because it is no mere translation or abstraction from life; IT IS LIFE I [This message has been edited by Ladycat (01-30-2004 08:51 AM).] |
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| © Copyright 2004 Vynette M. Charles-Brooks - All Rights Reserved | |||
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merlynh Member
since 1999-09-26
Posts 411deer park, wa |
Very powerful and a lot of passion. Very nicely done. Thanks for sharing. |
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