Tag Archives: childhood trauma

Poem: Fifty Percent

bad-mother-300x213
Photo from, and poem part-inspired, by http://www.asparkstarts.com/bad-parents-stop-ruining-lives/

Yes I am being a judgmental prick

And I don’t business.

Yes I am trying to offend

And I don’t business.

Yes I will make enemies when I don’t really need to

And I don’t business.

This is CPR to the lungs

Of cold hard lifeless facts,

Shining light on my ears’ visions,

Stringing vocal chords to the windpipes

Of what my eyes scream at me.

Wish it weren’t true

But

FIFTY PERCENT OF ALL HUMANS SHOULD NOT BE PARENTS,

INCLUDING MOST OF THOSE WHO ALREADY ARE.

Yes please point out

“You don’t have children.”

Yes please ask

“What right do you have to judge my parenting?”

I could counter by pointing out

I was a child

And I had parents.

What I will do is get to the point:

If you:

  • Let them hear you say “I love you”
  • And “I’m proud of you”,
  • Allow them to play and laugh,
  • Encourage their questions and try to answer,
  • Want them to do better than you
  • In whatever they choose to do,
  • Are willing to teach them about sex
  • Before school, media & porn do,
  • Tell them what they’re doing right as well as wrong,
  • Get involved in their passions & dreams,
  • Make up for when you let them down
  • (Because let’s face it: no-one’s perfect),
  • Teach them how to defend themselves from bullies,
  • Give them a happy childhood
  • So they can have a happy adulthood,

This criticism does not apply.

You are safe.

If you:

  • Blame your newborn daughter for stealing your man,
  • Ignore your crying baby so it can learn independence,
  • Find breastfeeding shameful in public and in private,
  • Had kids just because your parents wanted grandchildren,
  • Or your culture or religion said that’s your duty,
  • Or your friends are having them,
  • Or had them against your will,
  • Disown your kids for not following the god you believe in,
  • Believe they’re born in sin,
  • Believe their genitals need ‘reshaping’,
  • Teach your daughter to shut up and take it,
  • Say a child who was disowned or beaten or raped by a parent
  • Was being difficult or needs to understand the parent’s point of view,
  • Smoke, drink or do drugs during pregnancy,
  • Walk out on them because you didn’t get on with the ex,
  • Think it’s the school’s job to teach them not yours,
  • Think more expensive schools = better education
  • Or money & gifts make up for your absence,
  • Beat your kid for speaking to elders or looking them in the eye,
  • Beat them to toughen them up,
  • Would rescue your baby from a building on fire
  • And leave someone else’s to burn,
  • Have kids with someone of a different background
  • So they don’t look too much like you,
  • Think boys should be dominant and girls dominated,
  • Would terminate a foetus on account of its sex,
  • Let them learn about sex from school, media & porn first,
  • Think your son acts unmanly
  • Or your daughter acts unfeminine,
  • Would kill them to protect your honour,

You are a shit parent.

Yes I am condemning

And I did warn you.

Yes I am naming and shaming

And I did warn you.

Yes I am inviting you to hate the fuck out of me

But before you do that

Check yourselves.

What are you guilty of?

What are you guilty of?

What are you guilty of?

 

© One Tawny Stranger, May 2016

Poem: MOTHER OF WAR

Kill. Maim. Torture. Mutilate. Traumatise.

All in the Name of She, that Mother with infinite names because she is known

In all ages in all world cultures.

Today we’d say she’s a child-abuser, unfit to bear children let alone raise them,

A bloodthirsting cannibal who should’ve been aborted in her mother’s womb

But in all of history she is known as Goddess.

And now she, the insatiable, demands to be satiated again.

Like a banshee on the loudspeaker she screams, “I fed you the liquid of my breasts

So you owe me the liquid of the veins, of the brow and of the eyes.

You owe me life, and I don’t care if it’s your enemies’ or yours or both.

I WILL HAVE IT!”

As a spirit intoxicating and haunting her children’s memory banks she prompts them

To relive and replicate the motherly hate she downpoured on them,

To prove how much they love her eve if they’d gladly slit her throat with a rusty chainsaw,

To defend the Mother-land.

Life is her right, death is her other right, and suffering is the very centre of her being.

By guns or tanks or A-bombs or even swords and fists like in olden days

She will exercise her rights. She is the battlefield,

She is the colonels, lieutenants, presidents & prime ministers strategising

Where and how to wage the next mutually destructive war,

She is the throngs of civilian witness egging their boys on to fight or die for them.

For her.

Anywhere in the world someone has blood on their hands she licks it clean for them,

And American government fingers are especially finger-licking good.

When she demands the liquid of the veins, her children’s injuries scar over – acute and chronic alike,

And with semi-devotion they raise their arms to give Mother what she needs

Yet again.

© One Tawny Stranger 2014