My Mother And I
My mother told me I was
Beautiful. A wiggling squad of tadpoles
Can recognise my behaviour for them.
For they make different orders,
Hating the oblique and obscure
But loving the books of your bite.
My mother saw how ugly these tadpoles
Were. Compared to me.
Who am I as a wonderful fellow?
The yawning has ceased past this time,
The objectives cease from the wine.
A wiggling head has arisen
And my mother called me beautiful.
Strapped to the slowly turning Earth,
By the back I was hollow
And the shallow water gave way,
Ceasing, and sending me away.
Naveed Akram's Other Poems
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Comments about this poem (My Mother And I by Naveed Akram )
Poem of the Day
- 04 Tongues Made Of Glass, Shaun Shane
- Nothing Gold Can Stay, Robert Frost
- The Road Not Taken, Robert Frost
- Still I Rise, Maya Angelou
- Phenomenal Woman, Maya Angelou
- I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings, Maya Angelou
- Fire and Ice, Robert Frost
- Dreams, Langston Hughes
- If You Forget Me, Pablo Neruda
- If, Rudyard Kipling
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
- Heather Burns
(8 February 1911 – 6 October 1979)