Shared by Blase' Lizzmore on October 17, 2015

"FOREVER MISSED-FOREVER LOVED"

*Gone 5 years too long, Mom*

 

 

Flowers born just to die.....weeping willows left to cry…

 

 Rest unencumbered by earthly travails

Slumber peacefully in that glorious mansion of tranquility

The heavenly palace that the creator prepared for you mom

 

A holy place where only angels reside

luxuriating on a bed made of golden, silk feathers

and a pillow fashioned from the softest cloud

 

You were my favorite love song

The cadence in every poem that I composed for you since I was but a young lad

 

So to commemorate you, I plucked 3 roses from the garden of "forget me not"

and placed them upon your soul

Red, for the babbling brook of blood and love that flows unimpeded between us

Yellow, for the sun ray that forever illuminates our sacred friendship

Purple, for the majesty of the mountain that you were, and will always be

 

Today, October 16th, 2015 denotes the 5th anniversary of the day you sprouted gossamer wings

and like an exotic butterfly, flew away and coalesced with the vast multiverse

Adazzle with zillions of twinkling stars, countless galaxies and mysteries

 

When I gaze upon those mind-boggling manifestations of, "the one most high"

Among the confluence of all that wonderment, I spot you winking, smiling, waving

and blowing kisses at me

 

Alas, come the raindrops, cascading

They are really profuse tears, masquerading

 

Then, as if by divine instruction, my heart whispers in my ear

And once again you become that never-ending love poem that I will never stop writing...

 

- Your loving son, Doe-Doe

Shared by Blase' Lizzmore on July 21, 2015

 

If You Were Still Alive, You Would Be 95


On this day, July 19th 1920

A beautiful rose sprung forth from the earth

A celestial manifestation, the day of your birth

 

For 90 years you blossomed labored and flourished

Sprouted 7 rose petals whom you nurtured and nourished

Then on 10/16/10 the sun went down

Time to rest, you wilted and returned to the ground

 

My heart is pregnant and bursting at the seams

With a plethora of emotions and memories of you

Like a sponge left to drown in the rain

One squeeze and the levee will break

My tears will flow profusely

And the storm will commence anew

 

Just as I was learning to tread the treacherous waters

of the bottomless ocean's commotions

On may 31st 2015, your first born son, Junior,

Slipped into that churning, unknown, watery divide

Navigated the rouge waves, arriving bewildered at your side

 

Beloved Mom, on this your 95th birthday,

Three out of seven have followed you home

So my tears will be bitter sweet

Just knowing that you won't be celebrating alone

 

Four more will seed the fertile soil

The fruits of your eternal toil

Anticipating our inevitable reunion

In the rose garden... where it all began

 

Happy 95th birthday, Mom (Hilda Mae Lizzmore, a.k.a. “Peaches”)

Unrequited love

 

Your loving son, whom you affectionately call, Doe-Doe

PRETTY IN PINK

Shared by Blase' Lizzmore on August 7, 2012

A pink rose adorned your hair

So peaceful just reposing there

A string of pearls at rest upon your chest

 

Deep slumber, a soul spin

your dreamscape

From the chaos of this bitter earth

 

How surreal, that magnetic smile

Etched upon your lovely face

Never failed to melt my heart

 

Unmoving, unchanged

Unfazed by us left dazed

Just as it was

When I weepingly gazed upon it yesterday

 

I know the sculptor meant well

Tried to pose you from a standard mold

But you, Hilda Mae Lizzmore

Had the last laugh

 

July 19th, 2012

Would have been your 92nd birthday

Two years since your sojourn ended

Time has no time to spare

 

Unblinking, uncompromising

Wreaks havoc on bodies and minds

Once vibrant and razor sharp

 

As I stare into the reflecting pool

Where still waters run deep

I pray to the heavenly father

That your soul is his to keep

 

Just due north of tomorrow

We will be reunited

And words like birthday and time

Will be deleted from our Lexicon

 

A sad ending? Or a joyous new beginning

A make-up artist preparing mannequins

For that final curtain call

 

Take your bow now Mama

You deserve a standing ovation

No encore this time

 

My angel

So graceful

So still

So pretty in pink…

Shared by Blase' Lizzmore on May 16, 2012

~ Happy Mother's Day  ~

Until we meet again... 

 

Each moment, a broken heartbeat

Each second, a bloodstained tear

Every mother's day, a sad reminder

That you are no longer here

 

Where are you beloved

I'm searching but just can't find

The billions of shattered pieces

Of my mind you left behind

 

A satellite can't help me

GPS don't have a clue

But no matter where you are

Some day I will find you

 

Thank you so much Mama

You made the ultimate sacrifice

You were our bullet-proof vest

On this battle field called life

 

I have never waited

For the day they designated

For me to proclaim

How much you're appreciated

 

Wish I could send you a bouquet of roses

But they'd be returned “address unknown”

No longer can I dial your number

To say “I love you” on the phone

 

The clock of life barrels through intersections

Running red lights and stop signs

Tomorrow? Much too late

To turn back the hands of time

 

But I do have yesterday

And that, even time can't erase

I have pictures, videos, and memories

Treasures I'll always embrace

 

Travelers through life's mysterious journey

So glad we found each other

Over-joyed that you were chosen

To be my loving mother

 

When my very own hour-glass

Drops its last grain of sand

Your smiling face will appear

You'll gently take my hand

 

Lead me beside still waters

Merge as one with my soul

In that majestic kingdom

Where streets are paved with gold

 

Then and only then

Will I be whole again

Reunited with you

My mother, my best friend

 

But while the clock is ticking

And tocking my life away

Rest peacefully sleeping beauty

Happy Mother's Day

 

I love you Mom

- With all my heart and soul 

Until we meet again...
 

Your loving son

Doe-Doe

Hilda May Lizzmore, My Grandma

Shared by Blase' Lizzmore on October 21, 2010

She was the center post, foundation and bond, the root of our family tree, the link between our ancestral past and future blood to be, links to a Cherokee and Blackfoot line, links to black survivors of those racist times, a walking history of family ties, a great listener with counsel ever so wise, she was Lizzmore, she was Serchion, she was Mathis and McClain, she was Mathews also Sessions, some of our lineage names. Her sojourn on earth was turbulent and rough, challenges, life oft-times brings. She paid her dues and endured much and now she’s earned her wings. To us she was mother Theresa, always lending a helping hand, giving of the little she had to give, doing the best she can. She remembered everyone’s birthday, kinfolk and strangers without fail, every year to the date and not a day late, expect a card in the mail. Her doors were open to us all, whenever in time of need. Take a bed, take a couch or a spot on the floor either way you were well received. Family reunions and holiday memories all of which she made complete, the fun, the laughter and joyous times on 2070 West 16th St. Sweet potato pies, potato salad and meats, all sorts of deserts and tasty treats, food for days and plenty left over to take plates home to eat. I’ll be missing your hospitality and special things you do, the way you joke on the telephone poking fun at people too. I gazed upon a full moon through my window, reflecting on your smiling face, and sufferings of your last days with us praying you’re in a better place. Thanks for giving birth to this Lizzmore clan and making us who we are. I love you forever and ever and ever Hilda May Lizzmore, My Grandma.

Love,

Snapper (Aka MikhaEl Lizzmore-Bey)

 

Hilda Mae Lizzmore, My Grandma

Shared by Blase' Lizzmore on October 21, 2010

She was the center post, foundation and bond, the root of our family tree, the link between our ancestral past and future blood to be, links to a Cherokee and Blackfoot line, links to black survivors of those racist times, a walking history of family ties, a great listener with counsel ever so wise, she was Lizzmore, she was Serchion, she was Mathis and McClain, she was Mathews also Sessions, some of our lineage names. Her sojourn on earth was turbulent and rough, challenges, life oft-times brings. She paid her dues and endured much and now she’s earned her wings. To us she was mother Theresa, always lending a helping hand, giving of the little she had to give, doing the best she can. She remembered everyone’s birthday, kinfolk and strangers without fail, every year to the date and not a day late, expect a card in the mail. Her doors were open to us all, whenever in time of need. Take a bed, take a couch or a spot on the floor either way you were well received. Family reunions and holiday memories all of which she made complete, the fun, the laughter and joyous times on 2070 West 16th St. Sweet potato pies, potato salad and meats, all sorts of deserts and tasty treats, food for days and plenty left over to take plates home to eat. I’ll be missing your hospitality and special things you do, the way you joke on the telephone poking fun at people too. I gazed upon a full moon through my window, reflecting on your smiling face, and sufferings of your last days with us praying you’re in a better place. Thanks for giving birth to this Lizzmore clan and making us who we are. I love you forever and ever and ever Hilda May Lizzmore, My Grandma.

Love,

Snapper (Aka MikhaEl Lizzmore-Bey)

 

To Grandma, from Deirdrie

Shared by Blase' Lizzmore on October 17, 2010

As a flower is sweet, so was she
As soft as a rose
But strong as a weed
Impossible it was to break her
The roots she planted were plenty
She was worth more than gold
Still she tried to save every penny
Glory, glory, glory
Halle, halle lujah!
I'll reign, I'll reign 1 day
This is what she told ya
The fragrance of her spirit is with her Lord
By friends & family she was adored.

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