Sunday, November 1, 2015


Caroline nazareno

( Found Poetry )

This good memory
becomes a curse
wheels of sedatives
with her blank eyes

I remember the gown with a scarf
she wears like a sure  needle from her Empire state
pricks her skin, under an ET-like tomb
there she smiles, she claims all the power
with the motherly affirmative glance

I remember  horrible things
when ghost month comes
the irony of never forget
crippling nightmare
everyday from reality
her touch is a carefree, Mother is there

I remember family dynamics
ways of living
manifestations of endless loop
reason of pureness, puregold
beyond beauty like a Mother.

I remember mother’s story of survival
her scars are not silver statistics
to earn strength and persistence
she is understanding
never refuses to listen
she, the sentence of my home

I am her daughter
her every story, when I was born.

Caroline Nazareno
July 2015/Philippines

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