Maternal Sin Available for Purchase

© The Swartzentruber Studio | all rights reserved
Maternal Sin

Don't cry now little one,
Everything gonna be okay,
I'm your mama, I know what's best
Put your head on my bosom- rest

Daddy didn't mean to do it, I swear
He was tired and drunk, he gets angry,
But your Daddy's a good guy
He didn't deserveÖ.. to die.

Hush now, baby
Soon you'll be old enough to know,
Seems like yesterday, you was still inside me
Hush now, mama don't want to leap I'm just hurt and tired too,
from these promises I keep.

I never smoked before you was born,
But a helpless baby is a lot of responsibility,
I was only fourteen when I first looked you in the eye
So, we share our childhood together you and I

Last night I had a dream of Heaven
Paradise is a quiet place full of love and peace.
Jesus told me not to worry; he would protect us all,
Angels never die, they only fly,
God catches them before they fall.
Maternal Sin Essay,

Chadwick James (poet/songwriter) Tucson, AZ

Maternal Sin

Let us stand at the edge,
One last time,
While jumbles make their way
Through my head.

No time for dysfuntional
Syncopaths or cathartic ranting.
Only positive things.

Up from here dear girl.
Only up.
Just one more step.

Carla R. Herrera, Iowa City, IA,
(Author of Contemporary Woman's Guide to Midlife: Essays and Resources for Life Transitions)

Maternal Sin

The maternal nurturing inside out now,
Child is abandoned
By motherís sickness,
Rot growing within
Consuming body and soul.
Nurturing becomes the job of child.

Mother abandons child.
There, yet absent.
Large, yet small.
Living, yet dead.

I canít take care of you anymore, Mamma.
I have found my own abyss.

Attracted like a magnet to iron,
Child seeks out her own solace
In the same darkened rooms of succor
Where paranoia slowly usurps the euphoria,
And pain quickly replaces the pleasure.
The downward spiral is swift now.

I canít take care of you anymore, Mamma.
There isnít much time.
I stand on the precipice between life and death,
Not knowing which to choose.
Death kills the demons.
Life kills me.

Whoíll take care of you, Mamma?

Kathy Coates, Racine, WI

Maternal Sin
Nobody noticed the stork as it drifted across the sky, making its way to
wards its nest where the mountains leapt up high. Blind Mary didn't
glimpse a thing but neither did her Beau. Yet, after the marriage months
later, the bulge began to show. In time they had a bonny girl and Blind
Mary did her best, to bring up the child with love and care. Sometimes
she'd never rest.
And then to the click, click of fixed bayonets soldier Larry marched
away,to join in with the tuckets and the drums , the fifes , the pipes
and lots more lads, off to war, that day.
The baby grew as they often do into a child of charm and while Blind
Mary looked after her she wondered a lot about husband Larry , her love
and thought of possible harm.
The letter came one day, so sad when she had it read. Larry died in
action ,on Flanders Fields, a Waterloo type of battlefield on a glorious
summer day.
Money then became scarce. It was always tight for Blind Mary and so it
seemed she faced desolation, despair and no food for the child that night.
She smoked, she drank and watched the time, each minute played on her
mind, each ticking minute told a tale of Larry, her husband cut off in
his prime.
What should she do? Her mind stayed in turmoil. She kept the child
clutched to her breast. Blind Mary did not know decisions in life were
what each mother must face every day of her life. And then at last she
heard Larry's voice whispering behind a hill. She wiped away her tear
and went home knowing he was with her and the child still.
-Cleveland W. Gibson, (Author of Billabongo) Faringdon, United Kingdom