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Mamma
Kanlungan
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When the last teardrops falls
 
 
It's so hard to lose the one you love
To finally have to say goodbye
You try to be strong but the pain keeps holdin' on
And all that you can do is cry
Deep within your heart you know it's time to move on
When the fairy tale that you once knew is gone


When the last tear drop falls
I'll still be holdin' on to all of our memories
And all of what used to be

When the last tear drop falls
I will stand tall
And know that you're here with me in my heart
When the last tear drop falls

So now I'm alone and life keeps movin' on
But my destination still unknown, oh yeah
Will there be a time when I'll fall in love again?
When I was meant to walk these streets alone
If there was just one wish I could be granted here tonight
It would be to have you right back by my side



Now it's time for me to find my happiness again
And the emptiness from missin' you
Will never ever end.
 
 
 
   
   
   
   

 

 
I will remember...

                    Mama's Promise

 

 

 

I have no answer
 the blank inequity
                                       
of a fourty two year old dying.
I saw her and wept
with my heart full of fear.

I constantly flash on disasters now;
red lights shout Warning. Danger.
everywhere I look.
I buckle her in, but what if a car
with a grille like a sharkbite
roared up out of the road?
I feed her square meals,
but what if the fist of his heart
should simply fall open?
I carried her safely
as long as I could,
but now she's a runaway
on the dangerous highway.
Warning. Danger.
I've started to pray.

But the dangerous highway
curves through blue evenings
when I hold her yielding hand
and snip hers minuscule nails
with my vicious-looking scissors.
I carry her around
like an egg in a spoon,
and I remember a porcelain fawn,
a best friend's trust,
my broken faith in myself.
It's not my grace that keeps me erect
as the sidewalk clatters downhill
under my rollerskate wheels.

Sometimes I lie awake
troubled by this thought:
It's not so simple to give a child birth;
you also have to give it death,
the jealous fairy's christening gift.

I've always pictured my own death
as a closed door,
a black room,
a breathless leap from the mountaintop
with time to throw out my arms, lift my head,
and see, in the instant my heart stops,
a whole galaxy of blue.
I imagined I'd forget,
in the cessation of feeling,
while the guilt of my lifetime floated away
like a nylon nightgown,
and that I'd fall into clean, fresh forgiveness.

Ah, but the death I've given away
is more mine than the one I've kept:
from my hands the poisoned apple,
from my bow the mistletoe dart.

Then I think of Mama,
her bountiful breasts.
When I was a child, I really swear,
Mama's kisses could heal.
I remember her promise,
and whisper it over again and again unitll I could sleep:

When you float to the bottom, child,
like a mote down a sunbeam,
you'll see me from a trillion miles away:
my eyes looking up to you,
my arms outstretched for you like night.



 

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