Wednesday, 23 May 2012


It was you entirely.
You who taught
the singular mansion
of love, to me: your child,
your boy who nervously
sat still in a sea of convention.

Your Basilica beads were not
for Mary’s crushed child alone.
There was a foetus in that womb,
as you glanced at the Immaculate.

His breathless marble pin-ribs lanced
our muting love in teary-rued cheeks
for what should’ve been high horns.

O mother of earthly care,
how will I heal the doctor
that heals with a heart?

How will I assure the poor
and the rich alike for all
your general and licensed


  1. For me an intriguing meditation that expresses their attachment - as a model for any mother-child relationship like the one you hint at - so well, and our hopes on transcendental powers. The whole relationship mesh between those five (if I counted right) culminates in the great central stanza. (I don't know the literal meaning of "high horns", however.) A truly captivating poem!

  2. You honed in on the many-layered joys of a mother-son relationship (which I adore, being the mother of a son with a three year old son) and magnified the inherent attributes to offer nurture, love, care to the world. Smartly written, emotionally and intellectually engaging.

  3. Such inspired writing, Matthew, deeply moving.

  4. A moving and beautiful write Matthew! :-)

  5. I felt like I was floating along with this story. Touching though I'm not even sure in what ways. This requires a reread or two.

  6. I created a link for your blog in mine. I hope that is all right.

  7. oh, i love this! absolutely stunning!

    thank you so much for participating at Poetry Jam!


  8. A wonderful tribute to the love between parent and child.