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Poems On / About SISTER  10/25/2014 6:54:33 AM
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Best Poems About / On SISTER
 
 
 
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  361.     

My African Sister

My sister is an African nun
that sits below grass houses
and rocks babies
until the sun goes down.

She pounds grain
into a fine powder and
shoos the flies away
from the faces of children.
She never puts her head
down to rest.

My sister wraps the babies
tight within the confines
of cobalt swathing,
and occasionally she spits
out the poisons she
inhales.

The children surround
her as she sings in her
native tongue, her tales
of life would scare us
three times or more

The horrors of skulls
that are just beyond
her door, and the way
they made a rabbit
bleed would make you cry.

When my sister speaks
of death, she rocks the
babies slowly. She is
not frightened
when the sounds
of night are right
outside her door

While some others sleep
she is working, cleaning,
taking the children down
to the river, giving
bread to hungry mouths.

My sister's hands
fold for a simple prayer,
African mantra of the night,
never stopping, only knowing
that her babies need her.
 
Louise Marie DelSanto

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  362.     

Mom Dont Cry

Mom please dont cry
I'm beggin you, please dry your tears
I'm still with you
you still have your little girl
I'm not leaving no where
Believe me, I'm still with you and my sisters
you guys are my life
I may be getting older, but I'm still mama's little girl
I'm not leaving no where because I didn't get the chance to say I Love You to you or to my sisters, but most of all I'm not ready to go
I'm gonna show my sisters the right path
me leaving is not the right path
hearing you cry in the next room next to me
my pain is with you
I'll cry with you
who would want their little girl to go what I go through?
I had a rough child hood and now this!
mom, you see u haven't left than
I'm not leaving now
because I have a back bone
I'm strong
I know that there times alot of people didnt think i was gonna make it
well me and my body prove them wrong
thats because I have you and my sisters by myside
we all prove them wrong together! ! !
 
Arie Mack

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  363.     

Blood on your hands sister

You said you loved him told him you cared
Promised him forever together
Instead you broke his heart into countless pieces
You drew tears of blood from the Prince of hearts
Hurt his pride with your insolent words
Blood on your hands sister
Blood on your hands


I saw the pain in his eyes
I felt the bitter tears that he cried
Kicked a man when he was down
You left him a broken man
Blood on your hands sister
Blood on your hands


From a loving giving sensitive Prince amongst men
You took your pleasure and stifled his laughter
You took your fill and threw him upon the scrapheap
Blood on your hands sister
Blood on your hands

But his precious tears are wasted
Wasted on a dry barren heart like yours
For his heart is alive and flourishing
Whilst yours is dead and lifeless
He is the victor
Whilst you the loser

You may wash your hands of him
But the stains will never fade
Blood on your hands sister
Blood on your hands
 
Lilac Wine

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  364.     

Brother And Sister

"SISTER, sister, go to bed!
Go and rest your weary head."
Thus the prudent brother said.

"Do you want a battered hide,
Or scratches to your face applied?"
Thus his sister calm replied.

"Sister, do not raise my wrath.
I'd make you into mutton broth
As easily as kill a moth"

The sister raised her beaming eye
And looked on him indignantly
And sternly answered, "Only try!"

Off to the cook he quickly ran.
"Dear Cook, please lend a frying-pan
To me as quickly as you can."

And wherefore should I lend it you?"
"The reason, Cook, is plain to view.
I wish to make an Irish stew."

"What meat is in that stew to go?"
"My sister'll be the contents!"
"Oh"
"You'll lend the pan to me, Cook?"
"No!"

Moral: Never stew your sister.
 
Lewis Carroll

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