Mother Monster

This is a very old poem in free verse from childhood. I've never shared it with anyone except my best friend, sister of my heart. This one is rather raw and maybe lacking in clarity and resolution

Laughing, playing, four sisters titter.

Sh-sh! Don’t wake the rage monster!

Crash and break, glitter of glass…

Bang and slam, she comes screaming…

“Brats! Slovenly b*****s! I’ll teach you!”

“Go get your switches and they’d better be good ones!”

Lashing, switching, striping our asses,

All bared and bent cross the sofa.

Glint of hatred in her eye, smirking snarl on her lips.

Holding each other, crying, but quietly…

“And stop that sniveling this instant!”

Another day, and she lies sleeping…

Sh-sh! Don’t wake the rage monster!

In darkened room, the good air conditioner…

The sisters all languish in the add-on room…

All hungry, so tired of day old bread and bologna…

Her roast beef and creamsicles right there in the fridge…

“No,” says the elder, “It will only cause trouble.”

“Best take a nap while she sleeps, keep us out of trouble.”

The sisters creep to their rooms, in the hallway with hers,

Lie down in the heat with the sun shining in,

Tossing and turning, all but one finally slept.

Her door opens, she calls sweetly,

Sh-sh! Don’t wake the rage monster

“Up girls, it’s getting late, you won’t sleep tonight.”

“Up to the kitchen, daughter, make dinner for you tykes.”

While I make wieners and navy beans and fried stale bread,

The monster has roast beef with bread freshly baked.

Watching TV all together, the Monster wants dessert. 

She goes to freezer, creamsicles are all gone!

All bared and bent cross the sofa…

Dad’s Shore Patrol belt striping our asses…

“Tell! Tell! Who ate MY treat!”

On and on and on and on and on and on and on…

The rage monster strikes, strikes, strikes, strikes…

Hounding, pounding, hitting, slamming, beating…

Screaming, roaring, howling, screeching, shrilling…

“Worthless! Despicable! Miserable b*****d brats!”

“Tell me! Tell me! Confess! Who did it?”

How could we be from that body?

Where’s our love? Where’s our worth?

For stupid lumps of frozen sugar and fake flavoring?

Mother… monster… monster mother?

by D. Denise Dianaty

Reviews

[Einstein Noodle]

oh dear Momzilla ...reading drains blood, strength and words from my head ad dface ..i feel kind of numb ...too inadequate to say i am so sorry for this abuse to you and your sisters ...i presume it was a long time ago and you have dealt with at least some of your pain, betrayal and abandonment ..thank you for sharing your beautiful soul and heart in poetry here at the Cafe ...hugs :} love

[MomzillaNC]

Thank you. And, yes, I survived and escaped. My kin remained a source of betrayal and pain on the periphery of the life I built for myself until this past year when I finally put them behind me. When they defended the possible “necessity” of internment camps for Middle Easterners and Muslims, and defended the “free speech rights” of the KKK and nazis in Charlottesville, I couldn’t permit that poison into my son’s life any longer.

They taught him to hate – he hates them. That pains me. I should have severed ties before he learned to hate them. I failed him.

[Einstein Noodle]

oh ... you will always be the Mom and he knows it .. and he knows where you stand ... tho they stray a long ways from a parents teaching of goodness and love ..they surely return ...those arms of love a comfort and place of safety in a very harsh and dangerous world .... the more positive people we seek out the more generous our lives become says i ..good job separating from such negativity ..i say ..way to go ... i am a Christian and can not tell you how many times i have heard ministers say to new Christians especially, if we gain standing on top of a chair ..it is much easier to be pulled down than try to pull someone up on it with you... usually a reference to getting out of past habits and activities that prevent moving forward ..anyway ... you taught him to love ..he makes his own decisions eh!? i have four children ... their mommy died at the age of 30 so i raised them early on and what fears and worries i could not dispel as they made their way into adulthood ... but made it we did ..bruised and scraped a bit ..but not too bad ...sorry..did not mean to soap box you ..peace Momzilla ..and comfort and joy too :)

[MomzillaNC]

We try. Blessings and peace to you and yours.

[Einstein Noodle]

:) ......................

[Erica Ross]

"How could we be from that body?
Where’s our love? Where’s our worth?"

Those two lines touched me the most. Having the person who brought you into the world treat you like an animal makes you question EVERYTHING in this world. Such a great write!

[MomzillaNC]

Thank you. It was a very difficult thing. Even now, it still hurts deeply, though I know it was a product of her PPP.

[therisa]

Momzilla, my mom wasn't obvious, in her abuse of me, but abuse me, she did. She constantly found ways, to undercut me, making me, feel worthless, about myself. And yet, she would take me, when she went shopping, whether for food or clothes. But my real monster is, my younger brother, an acloholic, who my life, a living Hell, for more years than I can. I am glad, you have found the courage and strength, to break the hold, your mom had over you. I hope your sisters are, as lucky as you are. Thank you, for sharing this personal poem, about your past.

[MomzillaNC]

Thank you. Things were pretty bad. And, most of the places that should've provided some safe harbor were no better. It's not my place to comment on my sisters' continuing struggles.

I'm sorry you had to go through so much. But, your life is your own now. Eyes forward, into the light…

[therisa]

I understand, Momzilla, about your sisters. As for myself, it's a slow journey, moving at my own pace, not rushing things, when I'm not ready.

[MomzillaNC]

That's the only way to make the journey…

[therisa]

I learned this, the hard way.

[realmwriter]

I lived through only a small smattering of this. I got a belt across my a*s every time I crossed the line and because I am as stubborn as I am, I crossed it often. That was from my dad though. Sometimes it was his hand, usually his belt and it never struck anywhere other than my a*s.

My mother on the other hand, would be cruel about it. She would hit us wherever her hand, switch, hot wheels (leading the way) track, or whatever was close at hand, would hit us. Legs, back, a*s, thighs, stomach, it didn't matter. When she was in an alcohol fueled rage, we were victims of it. And there was nothing we could do or our dad would get our asses too, for being disrespectful.

You know, through all of it though. I am a better man, a stronger man. I can handle anything that comes my way and I swear, FEAR, was beaten out of me.

You captured a world that some refuse to see. Hell, some refuse to acknowledge that this kind of thing happened to them as well.

Great job here, Really.

[MomzillaNC]

Thank you. Happily, I too have moved beyond those bad old days.

[realmwriter]

I have forgotten much of it and I am glad that I have. But for all of the pain I was put through, I am thankful of it as well. I don't understand how that can be, but it is. And we are only we.

[MomzillaNC]

I can't lay such a claim to that bad old past. I can say that my mother overcame the madness that gripped her and that we have made peace with it.

[realmwriter]

That is a very good thing. My mother was a hard core drinker and for it, I never really had one as a child but now, she is better than 19 years sober and I have my mother back. It's really awesome.

[MomzillaNC]

My mother was suffering from post-partem psychosis.

[realmwriter]

I think mine was too. Not really sure though.

[Dark Heart of Winter]

This one of yours is powerful, raw, ....the visceral retelling fronm the soul of someone who's lived through such stuff.

I wrote a poem about this exact subject once.... http://www.writerscafe.org/writing/filasis/1337855/

good stuff :) keep writing

[MomzillaNC]

It was a very hard time. My mother went through a dangerous PPD after my youngest sister was born. They locked her up until she stopped talking about killing herself, then sent her home to her babies. Perhaps the most tragic thing of all, is that she wanted, more than anything, to be a mother with a houseful of kids. I have a few precious memories of her before the breakdown; it's like memories of a distant stranger -- so loving and gentle, always singing a sweet song. Then, 12 years of this nightmare person, so completely insane that her precious babies became her enemies. She's never fully recovered -- that loving and gentle songstress is dead. But, I've made peace with the woman she's become and with the past she can never take back.

[MomzillaNC]

Sadder still, for me, is that none of my three sisters is old enough to remember her before the breakdown.

[Dark Heart of Winter]

That's kind of what happened to me... I have fond (very distant, but fond) memories of me and my mother before she went through, basically, a breakdown. But that person is gone; we pretend to each other like we have a bond again, but both of us know it's fake. And i have 3 siblings and it saddens me immensely that none of them were obrn until after she changed; they'll always see her the way I do after the change. It's hard to deal with someone so close changing so completely; and in a way, just as hard to admit that there are good memories and good parts elft to a person you want to demonize to take away the pain,

[Dark Heart of Winter]

I guess we just have to make peace withe the past and move on :)

[MomzillaNC]

That was part of my therapy. When those memories of the mother she had been resurfaced, I had to let go of the hope, the yearning for that Mother Lost and to mourn. Then, I had to forgive the Mother Monster. Then, I was able to genuinely reconcile with the mother she is now. It will never be that safe harbor a mother should be, but we have a relationship and it's not bad.

[Frieda P]

Ouch, as a mother this one smarts....last three lines sum up the essence of this roaring read.

[MomzillaNC]

As a mother, rediscovering this was jarring. I hadn't forgotten that old pain, I'd just moved on. I think I was about 12 when the incidents in this poem happened. I hope it's made me a better mother.

[Frieda P]

That's an even bigger OUCH that it's real life, hopefully we learn lessons from the way we were parented and don't follow in their footsteps. Brave piece of work.

[MomzillaNC]

Thank you so much.

[Jamie R. Robillard Sr.]

Very sad, thank you for sharing.

[MomzillaNC]

Happily, I've left all that behind. I've come to terms with the past, and moved on from it. It doesn't color my life any longer. I learned to love me and to be loved. And, then I found love and have had 23 years of bliss, enveloped in love, loyalty, respect, and gentleness. I have to say, if I could go back in time, I'd still suffer every degradation, every pain, evert tragedy again rather than risk missing one moment of the last 23 years.

[Jamie R. Robillard Sr.]

I understand your pain and am happy you found sanctuary. Your last 23 years must have been grand indeed if it pays these debts.