Poetry: Golden Light
Happy Asian American and Pacific Islander Month! I wrote this poem inspired by my favorite Asian American, my oldest son.
I was young and so stupid
a kid having another kid
but with you I grew up
and learned the meaning of love
you’re everything a mother could want
a wonderful and amazing son
and while I’ll feel some grief
the day you’ll your spread wings
I’ll feel a special kind of pride
as I watch you shine your golden light
Share this:
Poetry: My Three Kings
Who are your favorite people to be around?
I met my first king at 17
when the nurse placed an alien like being in my arms
She was like “feed him”and I was like “how do I do that?”
What should I do with him?
Eventually I figured it out
I met my first king at 24
as a birthday present, just like me
he had to make a dramatic entrance
but it was love at first sight
No one could take him from my arms
I knew what to do
I met my third king at 30
He was a dream delivered
After a dream lost the previous year
He was planned, he was awaited, he was loved
He was welcome by everyone
with him, I felt a completion of love
Share this:
Poetry: A Knock on My Door
I wrote this poem in February of 2022.
When darkness comes in and my sadness sets in
it covers me and I can’t see the point of it all
And then I hear a knock and it’s my son
And I remember, today he’s my life’s purpose
I need to get up and face another dreadful day
My child needs food and shelter
I can’t let my depression win
I’m a mother first
My darkness will have to be martyred
Remembering over and over again
on days like today my child’s presence
makes my bad days worth living
Share this:
December Poetry Challenge: My Sought Out Rainbow
This was in response to prompt #28: The person you’re always happy to see
My son is my light during my darkest of days
He’s a burst of an infectious kind of of good energy
Maybe it’s because he got the best of me
he was loved even before he was thought of
and when he was born
he was more and everything I dreamed of
he was a much sought out rainbow
after the worst of my storms
Share this:
Poetry: The Modern Southern Woman
I wrote this in 2016.
Faulkner wrote about her ancestors
She stood like a pillar of strength between her mother and daughter
She stood strong as both of them held her arms that were their life jackets
as they drowned in endless sorrows
Tears silently fell from her face as her father laid in his closed home
And the reverend went on about him being in a better place
And her strength did not falter,
She let her loved ones hold on tight while she tried to blink away tears ,
She swallowed her pain and absorbed the pain from those around her
She wasn’t just strong for her mother and daughter,
but she was a goddess of strength among the mere mortals
around her that wept
Share this:
Poem: They Said
I wrote this about my oldest son after a very proud mom moment. I thought about everything he went through and processed it through this poem.
I didn’t think this day
Would come so soon
I wasn’t prepared for the
Emotions I would feel
“You were doomed to
Be another “statistic”
They said
And autism on top of that!
Good luck
Becoming a productive
Member of society
They said
“No way, will you succeed
brown autistic boy,
Son of a teenage mom”
They said
Yet here you are –
Proving the naysayers wrong
Here is where you belong
Not yet graduated from
High school but starting
Your first college classes
Tonight
Here is where you belong
Despite the obstacles,
The haters, society
Trying to fuck you over
Here is where you belong
-on the start of a journey to success
And here I am
Beaming with pride
And love for you
My beautiful brown boy
Defying everything and
Everyone that ever
Stood in your way.
Share this:
Poetry: Countries
I wrote this poem in 2016 when I was reflecting on how different my children were. At the time, my middle son was going through a difficult time and it was hard to deal with.
Living with my three children
Is like living in three different countries
My oldest would be Singapore
With strict rules and laws,
He hates flaws in himself
And others and is unforgiving
It’s challenging to live in
Singapore
My middle child would be a war torn ridden country
Like Syria
That’s currently filled with constant chaos,
He is trying to find himself in a place
He feels unwanted and lost
It is an unpredictable struggle
To reside in Syria
My youngest child would
Be an established and friendly country like Spain
He is vibrant, laid back yet energetic
Occasionally you hear about political protests
That reminds me of his occasional tantrums when
His life feels unjust
It is almost a predictable and easy existence to
Live in Spain
Share this:
Poetry: My Pride and Joy
I wrote this poem in 2004 about my oldest son. Even though, I was 17 when I had him, I always tried to be the best mother for him. I worked to support him since I was 18, he was one of my biggest motivations for going to college, and even though I was extremely insecure as a young mom, I learned to advocate and fight for him to get the services and therapies he needed when he was diagnosed with autism.
You’re a wonderful mistake
I never want to unmake
I was young and stupid
a kid having another kid
but with you I finally grew up
and learned the meaning of love
You are everything a mother could want
Such an admirable and fine son
you are my pride and joy
you will always be my little boy
And I will dread the day
When you have to go away
But I take relief in knowing
You’ll know how to spread your wings
And you will always remember
who you once were
A wonderful mistake
Your mom never wanted to unmake
Perhaps a creation of lust
but one who never lacked love
Share this:
Poem of the Day: 1998
Share this:
Poetry: The Difference
I wrote this in 2006 after I was reflecting my first years of being a mother to my eldest child who I had at 17. Becoming a mother at such a young age didn’t make me the best parent and at times I still tried to act my age and party a lot even though I was a parent. It used to eat me up inside but I’ve come to terms that I did the best I could under the circumstances.
Late nights at the club
Drunk and dancing-you
Singing lullabies
Until he fell asleep-I
Getting ass from
an unknown stranger-you
Looking for monsters under the bed
and wishing them away-I
Waking up in an unknown place
With a helluva hangover-you
Waking up from little hands
Shaking my shoulders-I
You and I=me
Me =two different truths
About the way your childhood
Was seen
Share this:
Poetry: Trapped
I wrote this poem in late 2005 when I was going to school full time, working part time and raising two kids.
Trapped in a maze
Not knowing where to go
Gotta get out of this place
Before becoming conformity’s whore
A maze with traps
Like kids and responsibilities
It’s all getting too suffocating
And I can’t breathe
Share this:
Poetry: Here We Go Again
I wrote this poem in late 2005 thinking back on how I felt about my second pregnancy when I found out. It wasn’t an ideal situation at all because I was still in college and my relationship with my husband was on the rocks.
This can’t be
happening to me!
but rarely does it ever lie,
that second pink line
Just when I was on right track
Again I am burdened for lying on my back
What will I do?
Who will I turn to?
How do I tell them?
Once again I am their biggest disappointment
To just sit here and cry
is just a waste of precious time
I have no choice
I have to get away from this awful noise
This will become my personal hell
Because of another persuasive male
Share this:
Poetry: Place of Heartbreak
Share this:
Poetry: A Poem for My Third Born
A Poem for My Third Born
You were the rainbow
That came after the most dreadful storm
You were wanted, you were planned
You were loved
You were everything
Anxiously, I waited for your arrival
Counting down the months, the weeks,
And eventually the days
Cautiously, I felt hope
With every flutter,
And every kick
You were a ninja
Determined to reassure
This worried mama that
You were okay-
And I glowed bright
From your inner light
And finally
The day came
I would get to meet
My newest love made creature
And with your birth
Life finally felt complete
My Youngest Son Circa 2012
Me and my youngest on 6/26/22
Life on the BPD 