Poems for Motherhood

New Birth

I lost more 

of my mind than I did

my hair

when you first came out,

water-logged and anxious,

a bit like your mother.

I cared little

for social graces

and faces appearing

to peck at the chores

and leave leftovers

at my door.

I needed sleep

like a memory foam bra

lifting my pelvic floor

and remembering

where the keys 

to my sex drive ran off to.


A Matter of Patience

I don’t know any secrets,

I just forgot the time.

Like the time I cried when

I drug my newborn into Starbucks

by myself and there were no

seats and no strangers willing to 

concede their comfort to me:

a vacant womb expunged of its life

and searching longingly for a good reason

why this carseat breaks my spoiled arms,

and takes, for the life of me, so much time

I didn’t know I had until I couldn’t find it.



What is it about the vowel “e”?

How does it communicate

more effectively than “a”?

What is it telling me 

that you haven’t 

already said?

Does the length of

your cry mean

you mean it this time?

Like a lasso flung

around the corner,

this vowel

spins a noose around my neck

back to you,

and you hold it,

tugging me out

from the quiet shade

of my selfish life,

as I rush to your side

to ask, “what?”


Snacktime with Toddlers

Your hands make me nervous,

what happens next?

Another dream ripped away,

                           (laid to rest)

or burned instead,

dripping over coals

like marshmallows

a la Dali?

I want to be left alone,

yet I’m desperate to be seen,

but for all the unknowns,

I think                   (I know)

I’m glad you’re next to me.


Any mamas out there relate? I love aiming a poet’s lens at some of the maddening and mundane tasks of making life work with little kids. It’s my way of spinning gold from straw, making art out of the mess. Motherhood is SO HARD, but it is such worthy work. Each of these poems (and many more like it) appear in my forthcoming collection of poetry titled “Buried in the Margins,” available here for preorder. This book is full of the beautiful and challenging spectrum of our life experiences–from the breathlessness of first love and the ensuing pain of separation, to the glory and frustration of raising up children and living a rootless existence (crossing continents) in pursuit of important dreams.

What would you write a poem about today? Would love to read your experiences in the comments 🙂


*Photo by Dakota Corbin on Unsplash