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Motherhood is... difficult and... rewarding.

quote by Gloria Estefan
Added by Lucian Velea
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Easy and Difficult

Easy and Difficult

Easy to get a place in someone’s address book
Difficult is to get a place in someone’s heart
Easy is to judge the mistakes of others
Difficult is to recognize our own mistakes
Easy is to talk without thinking
Difficult is to control the tongue
Easy is to hurt someone who loves us
Difficult is to heal the wound
Easy is to forgive others
Difficult is to ask for forgiveness
Easy is to set rules
Difficult is to follow them
Easy is to dream every night
Difficult is to fight for a dream
Easy is to show victory
Difficult is to accommodate defeat with dignity
Easy is to admire a full moon
Difficult is to see the other side
Easy is to stumble on a stone
Difficult is to get up
Easy is to enjoy life every day
Difficult is to give its real value
Easy is to pray every night
Difficult is to find God in small things
Easy is to promise something to someone
Difficult is to fulfill the promise
Easy is to say we love
Difficult is to show it every day
Easy is to criticize others
Difficult is to improve oneself
Easy is to make mistakes
Difficult is to learn from them
Easy is to weep for lost love
Difficult is to take care of it so as not to lose it
Easy is to think about improving
Difficult is to stop thinking and putting it into action
Easy is to think bad of others
Difficult is to give them the benefit of doubt
Easy is to receive
Difficult is to give

poem by Bashyam Narayanan
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Self-rewarding Pat On the Backs

A fading influence,
Is protected from ruin.
And from the eyes of those,
That have been overdosed...
With,
Excited.
Invited.
Self-rewarding,
Pat on the backs.

A fading influence,
Is protected from ruin.
And from the eyes of those,
That have been overdosed...
With,
Excited.
Invited.
Self-rewarding,
Pat on the backs.

And sit relaxed...
Like,
Fat cats!

Shoveled away,
Is the scent of manure.
People who endured it,
Reached and sought for better days.

Some folks who stayed,
Pray on wounded knees.
Hoping that the sky will open,
To release,
Gold trimmed silver trinkets as they please.
And some sneeze from the gold dust rubbed.

With,
Excited.
Invited.
Self-rewarding,
Pat on the backs.

Hoping that the sky will open,
To release,
Gold trimmed silver trinkets as they please.
And some sneeze from the gold dust rubbed.

With,
Excited.
Invited.

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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II. Half-Rome

What, you, Sir, come too? (Just the man I'd meet.)
Be ruled by me and have a care o' the crowd:
This way, while fresh folk go and get their gaze:
I'll tell you like a book and save your shins.
Fie, what a roaring day we've had! Whose fault?
Lorenzo in Lucina,—here's a church
To hold a crowd at need, accommodate
All comers from the Corso! If this crush
Make not its priests ashamed of what they show
For temple-room, don't prick them to draw purse
And down with bricks and mortar, eke us out
The beggarly transept with its bit of apse
Into a decent space for Christian ease,
Why, to-day's lucky pearl is cast to swine.
Listen and estimate the luck they've had!
(The right man, and I hold him.)

Sir, do you see,
They laid both bodies in the church, this morn
The first thing, on the chancel two steps up,
Behind the little marble balustrade;
Disposed them, Pietro the old murdered fool
To the right of the altar, and his wretched wife
On the other side. In trying to count stabs,
People supposed Violante showed the most,
Till somebody explained us that mistake;
His wounds had been dealt out indifferent where,
But she took all her stabbings in the face,
Since punished thus solely for honour's sake,
Honoris causâ, that's the proper term.
A delicacy there is, our gallants hold,
When you avenge your honour and only then,
That you disfigure the subject, fray the face,
Not just take life and end, in clownish guise.
It was Violante gave the first offence,
Got therefore the conspicuous punishment:
While Pietro, who helped merely, his mere death
Answered the purpose, so his face went free.
We fancied even, free as you please, that face
Showed itself still intolerably wronged;
Was wrinkled over with resentment yet,
Nor calm at all, as murdered faces use,
Once the worst ended: an indignant air
O' the head there was—'t is said the body turned
Round and away, rolled from Violante's side
Where they had laid it loving-husband-like.
If so, if corpses can be sensitive,
Why did not he roll right down altar-step,
Roll on through nave, roll fairly out of church,
Deprive Lorenzo of the spectacle,

[...] Read more

poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Mindless Child Of Motherhood

Ive been traveling a long time,
To be just where you are.
In dreams I have seen you,
But you are so very far.
How long must I travel on,
To be just where you are?
How long must I travel on,
To be just where you are?
I was your friend,
I was a fool,
I feel for you, though were far apart.
I see your face,
Lost without trace,
I see your mind, just an empty space.
Mindless child of motherhood,
You have lost the thing thats good.
Mindless child of motherhood,
You have lost the thing thats good.
I know that its not fair,
To bare a bastard son,
But why do you hide there,
When we could have shared a love?
How long must I travel on,
To be just where you are?
How long must I travel on,
To be just where you are?
I was your friend,
I was a fool,
I feel for you, though were far apart.
I see your face,
Lost without trace,
I see your mind, just an empty space.
Mindless child of motherhood,
You have lost the thing thats good.
Mindless child of motherhood,
You have lost the thing thats good.
To me.

song performed by Kinks
Added by Lucian Velea
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Sweet Sixteen, Welcome to Motherhood

The little boys of the hood
Introduced her to Motherhood
Is that good?

Sweet Sixteen, Sweet Sixteen
Welcome to Motherhood

Put on the tape and press rewind
Can you see what was on their minds?
Their quick fun release
Became your infectious disease

Sweet Sixteen, Sweet Sixteen
Welcome to Motherhood

Now is about money and food
Keeping warm with firewood
A young mother in a daughter
She’s got no more time to be rude

The little boys of the hood
Introduced her to Motherhood
If only she understood
They still go to school
She doesn’t!
Who's the fool?

2006 - Sylvia Chidi

poem by Sylvia Chidi
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III. The Other Half-Rome

Another day that finds her living yet,
Little Pompilia, with the patient brow
And lamentable smile on those poor lips,
And, under the white hospital-array,
A flower-like body, to frighten at a bruise
You'd think, yet now, stabbed through and through again,
Alive i' the ruins. 'T is a miracle.
It seems that, when her husband struck her first,
She prayed Madonna just that she might live
So long as to confess and be absolved;
And whether it was that, all her sad life long
Never before successful in a prayer,
This prayer rose with authority too dread,—
Or whether, because earth was hell to her,
By compensation, when the blackness broke
She got one glimpse of quiet and the cool blue,
To show her for a moment such things were,—
Or else,—as the Augustinian Brother thinks,
The friar who took confession from her lip,—
When a probationary soul that moved
From nobleness to nobleness, as she,
Over the rough way of the world, succumbs,
Bloodies its last thorn with unflinching foot,
The angels love to do their work betimes,
Staunch some wounds here nor leave so much for God.
Who knows? However it be, confessed, absolved,
She lies, with overplus of life beside
To speak and right herself from first to last,
Right the friend also, lamb-pure, lion-brave,
Care for the boy's concerns, to save the son
From the sire, her two-weeks' infant orphaned thus,
And—with best smile of all reserved for him—
Pardon that sire and husband from the heart.
A miracle, so tell your Molinists!

There she lies in the long white lazar-house.
Rome has besieged, these two days, never doubt,
Saint Anna's where she waits her death, to hear
Though but the chink o' the bell, turn o' the hinge
When the reluctant wicket opes at last,
Lets in, on now this and now that pretence,
Too many by half,—complain the men of art,—
For a patient in such plight. The lawyers first
Paid the due visit—justice must be done;
They took her witness, why the murder was.
Then the priests followed properly,—a soul
To shrive; 't was Brother Celestine's own right,
The same who noises thus her gifts abroad.
But many more, who found they were old friends,
Pushed in to have their stare and take their talk

[...] Read more

poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Difficulties with women

It’s difficult to dress a woman

According to her wish,

It’s easier to undress a woman

Against her wish.

It’s difficult to argue with a woman

Because she is always right,

It’s easier to agree with her

Without any fight.

It’s difficult to find the words

A woman would like to hear,

It’s easier to keep silent

If you want to be her dear.

It’s difficult to guess her mood

So that to be understood,

It’s easier to tell her a funny story

And once more to say: sorry.

It’s difficult to explain

How much you miss her

It’s easier to give her a kiss

For her to remember you and miss.

[...] Read more

poem by Larisa Rzhepishevska
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How Difficult Can It Be?

How difficult can it be,
To admonish others...
Whose lives are affliated,
With direct desperation?
And indirected misrepresentation?

And this is commented upon,
By those from the warmth...
Of custom built comfortable homes,
As they view 3-D wide screen TV.

What suffering is being done,
By someone laying back...
And munching on snacks.
To demand a sandwich be made...
As a mate hollers back,
'You want rye or wholewheat bread?
Lettuce, tomato, mustard or mayo?
Did you finish your beverage yet?
Or should I get another...
Cold from the 'frig'?
What for you would be best? '

Just how difficult can life be?
When the basic of needs are taken for granted.
Just how difficult can it be?
When those born into 'standards' of quality,
Have not a clue of struggle...
Or have lived a moment in poverty,
To be believed.

And yet,
Can live in the midst of prosperity...
With contempt for others who are only aware,
Of a poverty lived not one of them chose.
And if they did,
Not one of them thumbs up their nose.

How difficult can one's life be...
When conversations of importance,
Centers around shopping sprees.
Just to buy new clothes to impose an image.
An image sustained in superficiality.

How difficult can it be,
To admonish others...
Whose lives are affliated,
With direct desperation?
And indirected misrepresentation?

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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My 3 J's

My oldest son
Motherhood so new
I learn as he grows
My middle son
Motherhood a little easier
I learn as he grows

My youngest son
Motherhood a breeze
I learn as he grows
My 3 J's have made me a mother, mother - in - law and grandmother
With love and forgivness I have learned
Everything is new
Never a little eaiser
Not always a breeze
With my 3 J's
I continue to learn as they grow

poem by Sheila Cooper
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Kya kahna (What to tell)

She was as innocent as water
And fell in love with a romantic hero.
He won one more feather to his cap.
She lost her only feather to his trap.

He is a hunter. She is a hunted.
What mercy could exude from a hunter?
A Viswamithra he became. A thrown
Out Meneka, she stood resolute.
She wanted not to eat a humble pie.
She wanted not to emulate Kunti.
She wanted to retain her motherhood.
Against all the law and all the ethics.

A monument her child might come,
That would humble him to fall at her feet,
Which she wanted, and rejected outright
To marry the former lover she shunned.

Murder not the motherhood
If moral or immoral.
Reject not the beloved
If a virgin or a victim.
Then would rebound the motherhood.
Then refined would be the beloved
[an abstract of a Hindi movie]
04.09.2000, Pmdi

poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Always Wanted To Wear Your Shoes

o sister o sister

my beautiful and powerful big sister;

i wish i knew you like i once did

o sister o sister

my wise and worldly big sister;

i wish i knew the remedy for what has rent itself between us

a thousand hateful things i've said to you;

wish i knew how to soften those words

I don't know what you mean by formal, not sure how to be formal

I miss you

and dare I say you were right in many ways

are there amends for my intolerance of your menopause

which is when know that things began to really fall apart

and now, as i swallow black cohosh capsules

and find myself yet again in a back against the wall situation;

i'm wishing i'd ever learned to do things like you

learned to make the best of things,

find and develop my own creative spark

& now there is no you to run to

and i've yet again made choices without a backup plan.

this seems to have become the pattern of my life

never really finishing anything

testing the waters here and there

often trying to live up to you

there were times when i wished u were my mother

[...] Read more

poem by Pilar Mogollon
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Looking For A Hero

I don't need a man
Who thinks he's good for me
I don't need a man
Who's nice and charming
I don't need anything
That people warn me to me
I just need some help
When fears are harming
I'm looking for a hero
When hate is coming to thrill me
When love is trying to kill me
In the dark
Where my armour is broken
I'm looking for a hero
Who will keep me from falling
He's here in my life as a calling
When my hopes keep rewarding to zero
Will you be my hero
Your love must be a sword
Cutting through dark in me
Your thoughts must be a shield
That will protect me
Your dreams must be a towell
Where I can hide from the world
Your hope must be a guard
That won't reject me
I'm looking for a hero
When hate is coming to thrill me
When love is trying to kill me
In the dark
Where my armour is broken
I'm looking for a hero
Who will keep me from falling
He's here in my life as a calling
When my hopes keep rewarding to zero
Will you be my hero
So I don't need a man
Just though we're talking about now
Oh baby, I need you
If you're a fighter
I'm looking for a hero
When hate is coming to thrill me
When love is trying to kill me
In the dark
Where my armour is broken
I'm looking for a hero
Who will keep me from falling
He's here in my life as a calling
When my hopes keep rewarding to zero
Will you be my hero

[...] Read more

song performed by Vanilla Ninja
Added by Lucian Velea
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Looking For A Way Out

Stumped, looking for a way out, many don’t know what it’s all about,
A country in crisis financially, but, the bigger picture men do not see,
Many losing the lifestyle they knew, with a darker future, only in view,
The many blind to their moral decay, so prevalent in this world today.

Some looking for a quick fix indeed, knowing there’s a deeper need,
Legislating issues to be solved, as the deeper issues go unresolved,
The very issues creating such woe, relating to places they do not go,
Avoiding the facts that lie ahead; feeding us political rhetoric instead.

The proverbial blind leading the blind, leaving moral principles behind,
Leaders appeasing a liberal crowd; the mention of God never allowed,
Rewarding men not pulling their load, putting many on a slippery road,
Taxing the rich to sustain the poor; only making all, worse than before.

A road where God is pushed aside, and the future for all is quantified,
By the darkened wisdom of man, bringing to light a much darker plan,
By taking the wealth of just a few, then dividing it among me and you,
Rewarding those who labor not; sharing the funds from one large pot.

God smiles upon men who labor, looking on their diligence with favor,
Not upon those who do not work, by rewarding men with a social perk.
If they scoff at God here and now, what’ll happen as leaves are brown?
As men’s dark plans cease to be, in a land that is filled with instability.

The time filling hearts with rage, will begin to turn God’s end time page,
When governments of all the world, shall see the darkest plan unfurled,
With man’s attempt at world unity, proposing to all universal prosperity,
Only to end in great catastrophe, with the return of The God of Eternity.

(Copyright ©03/2009)

poem by Bob Gotti
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Difficult Age

Difficult age
Youre just fourteen
And youre not friends with your body
Painfully thin
Look at your skin
Play with yourself for a hobby
How can they love a man who does that to himself?
Difficult age
Turn on the page
Have that wee drink in the meantime
Difficult age
Now youre eighteen
Heres all the freedoms you wanted
All the best clothes
A looker who goes
The size of your wage packet flaunted
How can they love a man who does that to himself?
Difficult age
Turn on the page
And have that wee drink in the meantime
Difficult age
Hes twenty-nine
Thirty just lurks round the corner
Settled for life
Nice kids and wife
Pull out a plum like jack horner
Difficult age
Turn on the page
Have that wee drink in the meantime
Difficult age
Now thirty-eight
And youre not friends with your body
Wish you were thin
Look at your skin
Wasting yourself for a hobby
How can they love a man who does that to himself?

song performed by Xtc
Added by Lucian Velea
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Unsaid Breeze

unsaid body clean-that's the life performance!
unsaid breeze gleans but difficult to be felt

unsaid body clean
unsaid breeze gleans but difficult to be felt

unsaid body clean
unsaid breeze gleans but difficult to be felt

unsaid body clean
unsaid breeze gleans but difficult to be felt

unsaid body clean
unsaid breeze gleans but difficult to be felt

the way reality

real
IT
Y generation

the way real
I
ty

is
SPeaKiNg! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !

Can you hear it?

unsaid body clean
unsaid breeze gleans but difficult to be felt

Can you hear it?
The poetic life singing tragically and paradoxically.

Can you hear it?

Can you hear it?

unsaid body clean
unsaid breeze gleans but difficult to be felt

[...] Read more

poem by Nyein Way
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Life Is Difficult

Life is difficult-
Surprises are not always what we hoped they would be-

People misunderstand us-
We imagine we are kind
And they understand us differently-

Some problems never get solved
Some remain lingering for years-

There are cruel people in the world
Stupid ones also-

The fair do not always get the prize
The pushers push push push the good guys aside-
We see the Evil grinning and we cannot touch them-

All kinds of Hopes we have are disappointed-
Rejection is the Fate of everyone at one time or another

One has to try and try and try
And often that is not enough-

Life is difficult
And after a certain age is more difficult
And when young is also difficult-

Life is difficult in some time or some way for all of us
It just is-

Life is difficult
And even when it seems not to be
There is another time coming-

Life is difficult
And so long as we live
It will be.

poem by Shalom Freedman
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Unattached to a Dollar Sign

When one has before soaked,
And bathed in flattery...
It is difficult to rekindle,
That first impression given.
The feeling that comes,
When someone likes what another has done...
Is much more rewarding,
Than a packed house of applauding patrons.

Let me reword that.
Because a packed house of applauding patrons...
Is very rewarding.
Especially if they are paying patrons.
And the bows come tremendously deep in gratitude.

However...
When one has before soaked,
And bathed in flattery...
It is difficult to rekindle,
That first impression given.
The feeling that comes,
When someone likes what another has done.
That feeling...
Is 'almost' like,
A packed house of applauding 'and' approving patrons.
Whether they pay or not.
It is the love that is expressed.

'And the cashed checks...
That come next! '

Do you have a single thought,
Unattached to a dollar sign?
Do you?

'Please...
Save that for your next performance.'

Inspired by:
Alvin 'Junn' Wilson
Long Beach, California

'Keep those struggles fresh and vunerable.
It's the vulnerability that keeps a performing artist
connected. And broke! LOL...You know I know! '

Love ya...
Larry

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Step mother

Is step mother altogether different from real mother?
Every time this question emerges and bothers
Whether real or step mother the vacant place can’t be filled by others
It is woman who has heart to offer as kind feeler or soothers

It is very difficult to offer motherly affection
Hard to swallow bitterness as nothing is left for selection
One has to undergo rapid change and adjust to the situation
To share the grief even if there is real infatuation

You may like and love your own kith and kin
There is no love lost and always wins
You care for love and offer in return
Many things to forgo and many things to learn

Kids need enough care and love from both
you must have allegiance to God even without taking oath
To offer best love and attention at the cost of discredit
Even true love offered may need observation and merit

People will not appreciate good gesture and sacrifice
Motherhood needs recognition and need to suffice
Step mothers are always blamed for nothing
If no good name can be given then at least praise something

What does she get for playing this noble role?
Bad name and discredit for work as whole
Not easy to play role of wife with different approach
Many may meddle in the internal affairs and unnecessarily poke

It is holy task than holier
Many have played the role successfully even earlier
You should be careful and not to be choosey,
Task is not to difficult but not also very easy

It has never been appreciated in past
Apprehensions always persist and doubts cast
Single individual may not live to last it long
Indeed difficult position to be found and appreciated among

Who needs the step mother most?
The children who have dearly lost?
How does husband spend time and at what cost?
What is so important in life and what is must?

Life becomes dull and dry and without any aim
Not a single man will boost happiness or claim
It will be simple word game and all the blames
Whole system will be on fire and flames

[...] Read more

poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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What's so difficult...

What's so difficult,
About the word,
No.

What's so difficult,
About our,
Relationship.

What's so difficult,
About,
Us.

What's so difficult,
About the words,
Stay away.

What's so difficult,
About,
Don't talk to me.

What's so difficult...

poem by Dragon Crenshaw
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Alankar (Decor) -30

Kitchen clash (Double Rondeau)

How difficult it is to cook
In hot summer how a wife to cook
'Take rest, shall buy food from outside'
He says with concern on her side
Wife is happy she need not cook
Happy so life runs like a brook
Variety food, pleased they look
Seasoned hot, they know kitchen's stride
How difficult
Time in hand changed is her outlook
Changed is also her old cook-look
Styleless to stylish in set glide
Makes her new with glow to her pride
She can speak on her strife to cook
How difficult

How difficult but back a cook?
Daughter visits with siren look
There, stirs in dad's heart a high tide
Sneaks'cooking has been set aside
These days mom does not at all cook'
Enough for her to word and hook
Daughter counsels mom back to cook
To be in shifty husband's stride
How difficult!
Luck is but a wheel in life-book
So such a wife can't overlook
And mom vows never to abide
Honeyed words but put them aside
Blamed wife telling herself 'to cook
How difficult! '

poem by Indira Renganathan
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