Slam Poetry

I have always been a big fan of poetry. My sister and I wrote it often to express feelings in ways we weren't really verbally able to. I remember growing up, we would write "Newspapers" and use to dream of one day having a book of poetry titled "Sister Sister." Hahaha. Good times. :)

But decades later, I still love poetry. Just something about taking your inner-most thoughts and using a pen and paper to express it in rhyme.

Slam poetry is a beautiful art of using your passion about certain subjects and expressing yourself in poetry, many times resulting in performing your slam in front of an audience.

It has been a long time since I have done this... but I am gonna share some poetry with you...

Ears

Looking at my son I see his father's smile

I see my sisters and brothers noses, chins, and hair.

Their color may be his eyes,

But my genes gave him the big doe size.

I see a little boy full of wonder and delight.

A boy who loves to run, wrestle, build snowmen, kick and throw.

A boy who makes too little sense in the world, but in his world it all makes perfect sense and there is always room to grow.

When I look at him, perfection is reflected in my tears.

But most others see a little body with broken ears.

Entwined with technology meant to enhance what residual hearing he's got.

Hearing we thought was perfect for two and a half years then found out it's not.

Fast forward a year and a half and we were told a different tale

His hearing was overestimated and his technological blessings weren't what failed.

Same time we find something that would blow my mind.

My son, my precious child, my first born, my little boy, I did this to him.

Giving him an x chromosome malformation, I wanted information,

I needed to know, what exactly does that mean?!

I was angry at myself, I hated my genes.

But in my faith I found a way through all my words to God I would say

I would pray to forgive myself, day after day

Then through it all I saw blessings in disguise

He didn't have to hear the things I had despised

Cussing and hatred, taunting and teasing.

Yells were whispers and nothing would seize this little boys dreams

He had to be more aware of feelings and faces,

In return his was kind and caring, bold and daring.

He loves his life and knows no other.

And I love him and am blessed as his mother.

So now we are moving forward, talking, speaking, speech fills our days,

Phrases and sentences, reiteration, repetition, no jaw relaxation.

Loving our blessings we have been entrusted to raise,

Through all of this we have given Him praise.

Hearing or not, we feel His presence in them and in us.

And it makes me wish we were all as compassionate as my children are.

But I guess this just shows, their generation they're raising the bar.

THANKS FOR READING!!!