Poetry International Poetry International
Poem

Jill Jones

MOTHER I AM WAITING NOW TO TELL YOU

MOTHER I AM WAITING NOW TO TELL YOU

MOTHER I AM WAITING NOW TO TELL YOU

Mother about the letters i never wrote
                                              the sirens outside batter my heart
and the fact i don't eat enough food
                                              reminding me i am hungry
all that heavy seductive stuff
                                              in the nights of new traffic in dreams
and i do not understand your eyes
                                              where there is so much blindness
the glare of your tenacity almost breathing
                                              i am struck down at the window
i have prayed to be that strong — resisting also
                                              the death squads are squealing in the backyards
but there is too much noise — two languages now
                                              spray painting their names like manifestoes
like what you wanted me to be — like this
                                              i don't like the sound my fear makes
and like someone else who has my voice
                                              i talk to myself — begging that someone
who has my arms but speaks a different love
                                             will remember the answer to the enigma
which you have lost the words for
                                             i am waiting for them to tell me
i am waiting now to tell you
Close

MOTHER I AM WAITING NOW TO TELL YOU

Mother about the letters i never wrote
                                              the sirens outside batter my heart
and the fact i don't eat enough food
                                              reminding me i am hungry
all that heavy seductive stuff
                                              in the nights of new traffic in dreams
and i do not understand your eyes
                                              where there is so much blindness
the glare of your tenacity almost breathing
                                              i am struck down at the window
i have prayed to be that strong — resisting also
                                              the death squads are squealing in the backyards
but there is too much noise — two languages now
                                              spray painting their names like manifestoes
like what you wanted me to be — like this
                                              i don't like the sound my fear makes
and like someone else who has my voice
                                              i talk to myself — begging that someone
who has my arms but speaks a different love
                                             will remember the answer to the enigma
which you have lost the words for
                                             i am waiting for them to tell me
i am waiting now to tell you

MOTHER I AM WAITING NOW TO TELL YOU

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Gemeente Rotterdam
Nederlands Letterenfonds
Stichting Van Beuningen Peterich-fonds
Ludo Pieters Gastschrijver Fonds
Lira fonds
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