Other mothers might not
drive their sons to school
in striped sleep pants–
patterned neon tiger legs
far from camouflage
unfit for stalking; smoking,
snarling and showing teeth to the radio,
muttering poetry while those other mothers
speak tongues in church,
but whose worship is authentic?
I am the mother
who eats homework
and lets him have
cold pizza for breakfast,
more nourishing
than colored sugar loops
for energy he needs
to live defiantly
outside the box,
stomping it flat.
Susan Daniels Poetry 
Ha! Yes! Get stomping 🙂
Hee, hee. Thanks! Drove him to school yesterday in those PJs, and the poem was born 😉
Really good Susan, right on the mark.>KB
Thanks, KB. Just spat it out.
😉
Thanks!
I love this. You don’t have to be a mum to feel this one.
Thank you! Nope, you don’t. You just have to have a tiny bit of rebel in your blood!
Your children get pizza for breakfast? Hot damn! I’d eat it before they got anywhere near it!
Hahaha–yes they did. They didn’t want eggs, and it has to be better for them than that sugary cereal crap–which is what he asked for 😉
Pizza vs Cereal? Hmmm tough decision.
What am i talking about? It’s a no brainer.
‘Za it is, then!
I actually prefer it cold, so bear that in mind when I come banging on your door.
Works for me! You have not tasted pizza until you have had cold Buffalo-style pizza–almost as thick as Chicago, but better sauce–even cold.
It’s funny but if you go to Italy you never ever get a thick crust pizza. Strange but true.
I have heard that. Better for you, but less toothsome.
Toothsome. A good word, and apart from me and my ex father in law I’ve never heard anybody else use it.
Love this – I’m pretty sure if I was a mother this is the sort I’d be too!
Hee, hee. If you were a mother, your children would be some of the happiest kids on earth!
Cute! Yes, teach him all the un-boxed things.
Think he knows a lot of them already. Six years old and definitely his own little person. He has been known to call his sister a “pampered poodle princess” and “buttercup of death.” I think he speaks metaphor more than English 😉
a buttercup of death? that is deliriously awesome.
He is 😉
forget the box all together!!
Yes!
stomp the boxes flat
or with a box of crayons
create a spaceship
Love it!
Susan. School is a box. And the car is a box on wheels. Pizza for breakfast is good. From a box or an oven shaped like a box.?Sorry. Overwhelmed by my own box training this morning. Recovering from too many years at job-in-a-box. It’s vivid in my awareness. Poetry softens box walls. Alice
It certainly does–we need more stomping.
Oh, memories of pjs…until the car broke down and was forced to walk home through slush…in slippers. Love the box stomping!
Oh, that would teach me not to do that, as well.
MUCH MORE STOMPING!! YAY! 😉
strong mama words. love it!
Thanks, Jane!
Best final stanza I’ve seen.
Oh, Paul, thank you!
Reblogged this on Journey in my boat.
A very striking opening, loved it.
Oh, thank you!
love this Susan. Rock on Mama! Let their spirits rage right?
Yes, Audra!
Me too – bravo!
Thanks, Julie!
March to the beat of your own drum I say 🙂
She sounds like a cool mom. Love it.
Hee, hee. thanks!
Mine would kill for a pizza every day. 🙂
Hee hee–mine too–or french fries.
I used to eat chocolate cake for breakfast. Yummy. 😉
Oooo–now you are reminding me of that Bill Cosby routine about the very same thing–and I have done that too 😉
🙂
Thanks, Boomie!