Mobe's days

The day's disdain shall never refrain from the pain that the rain will wash away. But tomorrows sorrow shall give cause to claim that today's was just yesterday's gain





This is a free thought process to which I intend to entertain and insiniuate debate and humor into what I consider a banal universe. I implore you to leave comment or critique and also to question my purposes if you so desire. It is my intent to invoke creative thought and even a new perspective, though I do not expect all to want the invasion of their minds for the duration of my soapbox. I will censor nothing, but cannot promise that it won't be at a higher desk. Enjoy!~mobe

Wednesday, February 2, 2011

Thinking on Mother

this is personal to me. Beyond that bitter and sweet too. For what a tale is what I have come from and I'm sure a few can relate, if even in shock at these words...

Happy birthday to a mother dear not there and far away~Happy birthday to one who didn't want me here and tried to fix in her own way

Happy birthday to a woman who was cruel for when I got a "B"~ I earned a black and blue on every place you could reach

When no one looked or was around~I thank you kindly for beating me down

The darkest closet wouldn't break my soul~And the fear you tried could not take hold

Happy moment for the bitter hate~All the frustration bearing on your gate

Hell has a place for the sinners on earth~Happy birthday with a smile of mirth

I could not would not please you so~So fucking unwanted and made your foe

How a child born to hurt could still hold head proud~And scream from a distance "Happy Birthday" aloud

I have a scar I see everyday~Upon silver backed glass my face does say

Great thank yous for the reminders of how not to be~On the torn and scarred lip that you gave me at three

I'm all grown up and the pain is long past~When my precious angel does wrong I'm stead fast

With curt words and a pause that calms an angry heart~Before I discipline and shred her apart

What a day you have before you all alone and sick~With a heart that's dying fast and barely able to tick

Do you think of all your choices and the tortures that you made~Are you pissed your P.O.M.* survived your vengeful tirade

I don't know what you wanted though I still do think on it~And I ponder what a baby child could have done when I sit

To make you oh so angry enough to raise a hand~A board, a belt, a fist, a knife, whatever that you can

And I want you to know this early morning on your very special day~It only took me nearly forty years to figure with dismay

That I only cried in agony and not to make you feel~Like a wretched failure of a mother with an under appreciative little eel

My once loyal loving thoughts were dried up with my tears~Each and every single time I shed them through the years

There will be no call or card this day to let you know I care~My heart had freed up long deadened space for those that need it there

...For those not in the know that read I am the little eel~A title given by mother's mouth and meant to make me feel

Like I had failed her some way some how in all I was as born~A title given to her babe all full of loving scorn

And P.O.M. I spent four decades counting time in womb~On your sixtieth birthday I am freed from your hateful tomb

No more a "Prisoner Of Mom"* to cry alone on darkest nights~Without a candle's glowing flame I salute you free of light

A creature born of mortal woman and cursed to wake at dusk~Your not human child you gave to the world felt fit to remember you thus


Happy birthday yes indeed you got your magic wish~And drove away the four good things and emptied up the dish

Of accomplishments and legacies you would have had been diff~I send to you my happy thoughts as your last one lonely gift


...there isn't more loving a daughter who was ever as loyal as I was for so many years. Always trying to please her and everyone and everything. It sounds so surreal to me when I hear myself say truthfully how honest and obedient I was. It wasn't difficult as I had no choice, for the only option besides compliance was the threat of death. I was drowned and stabbed and beat and neglected and starved as a punishment for being born. I still today have issues with hearing a child cry because I was taught not to do so on penalty or capital punishment. I think on the veterans and the abused children and any Prisoner Of Hate and how we all share some sick and twisted cosmic fate. I still love the bitch and am thankful for being born no matter the circumstances. My birth allowed me to bring forth a beautiful baby Wamphyri, a new born who was accepted and understood far beyond what mortal human stain can fathom. For that I am still loyal to the bloodlines that she gave me, nothing more. I am no longer angry or ashamed or even sad. I have my answers and can focus on what's left of what I have. My Lobo and my four-legged(s) that are loyal and loving to a fault. I discipline and even have raised a hand or two but never when I was a menacing angry brawler. I miss the mom I never had~mobe's love to her all and her all to her loves.

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