cry baby cry
you will from your first breath till you die
breath and leave behind
what was before will meet you on the other side
I am the perfect entity
And I inhabit your reality.
I live upon the wind
And find a home in your hearts.
I am the loving power;
The supreme epidemis of goodness.
I live in the actions of the many
And find extreme pain in the evil of others.
I am love incarnate
But cannot live in the drought of this world.
With every rotation of the Earth
Comes deeper suffering
And soon my existence will be nigh.
Without love being shared i will surely perish;
Disappear in the Dark Abyss,
Which shrouds the hearts and minds
Of the grand majority.
So let the love pour down from the sky
And let me be reborn.
Let my revival strengthen all resolve.
Let the Rain of my love
Shower and wash away the darkness.
Let all the Earth start anew;
Be reborn in kindness and goodness...
Before its too late!
Within her frame, a world is formed,
A heartbeat echoes, soft and warm.
Yet hope is stitched with threads of pain,
A sacred journey, not in vain.
She walks with feet too weary, sore,
Each step a trial, yet she bears more.
Restless nights with fleeting dreams,
Her body stretched at fragile seams.
A sudden craving grips her soul,
For sour fruits, or bitter bowl.
Strange hungers rise without a call,
She longs, she yearns, she wants it all.
Her back bends low, her breath runs thin,
The tide of labor swells within.
She grips the night, she bites the day,
As life prepares to carve its way.
And when the pain breaks like the sea,
Hope crowns her womb with victory.
Her cries give birth to sweetest song,
A mother’s strength, eternal, strong.
UTERO HOLDER OF LIFE
Reddish brown hue
Holder of life
So easy to view
Beautiful
Mother’s hold held, life spoil
She stands tall, fertile
Legs sequoia
Woman mother of man
Releasing’s life’s blood
Eggs embryos
Down her limbs
Nurturer, mother of world
Red river life flows through
The womb monthly flows
Utero holder of life
9/3/25
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2025©
"from LIFE DISCERN Anthology "
Life is eternal
Destination unknown
Comes into physical form
Is dormant
Becomes active
Interacts with all of creation
Has an impact on evolution
Leaves physical form
Life is eternal
Destinations unknown
A possible reincarnation
Comes into physical form
Etc …
Infants begin
with closed fists—
white and red,
like the sun
about to rise.
They grow,
thumb resting in their mouth,
fingers curling around
the saree’s edge of the mother,
the sacred thread of the father—
building a small,
secure world.
A few months later,
with tiny movements,
gentle manners,
they reach for toys—
holding them close,
day and night,
whispering in their own language,
never alone.
A soft toy becomes a world.
Sometimes it is a spoon,
a cup,
a tumbler—
clutched for years
as a secret friend.
Sometimes a locket,
a ring,
a bracelet—
shining with unseen magic.
And now,
Doraemon walks beside them,
on TV,
on mobiles,
everywhere they go.
These bonds,
woven with innocence,
give strength,
bring laughter,
carry a quiet promise—
that joy will stay,
and life will be kind.
The revolutionary
The revolution germinated in my womb,
The tenderness and care never negotiated.
The external pressures never an obstacle,
The birth of the world’s most beautiful era bloomed.
Came the dawn of surprises after a storm,
The ship swayed hither to thither.
The fight and insurrection had already begun,
The world’s most beautiful and the strongest life was born.
The trunk was burned and she just witnessed,
Holding the hands of the needy and the swayed.
Detached yet focused, marching to the goal,
With slogans and spirits high she bore in her heart.
Sheltered was she, but the discontent seeped out,
In an urge to reach the pinnacle of the dream,
Reminders and warnings kept she to herself,
To be the spectator and observer of her own play.
Sandhya T.P.
Degenerate house filled with ancestry
one short hand stretches from statues to shame
pervading loose boundedness within the same
or toward less classical geometry
on this continuous interplay to show
how apotheosis may interchange the crow
this desire between rough designs, I try
to withstand its whirlwind and real rephaim
into flexible modules overclaim
terrain through the abundant baptistery
we have dispersed vital functions for coe
by distinctive architectural doe
we provide few clues from dictionary
this situation contracts markedly beldame
*
/ \
/ \
sliced
and whole
a cleaved life
in flux cast dice
state of non being
potential in between
eternity's randomness
flip a coin up into the air
unpredictability flies there
alternate reality hints upon
•>•
parallel universes going on
realistically just one path
life’s inevitable no math
untangled observation
spit out my creation
god particle sown
new baby grown
chop the cord
use sword
spliced
\ /
\ /
*
By
David Kavanagh
HMS
A baby is born—
wrapped in soft white,
breathing gently,
half-asleep,
a trace of a cry still lingering in the air.
The sister carries this tiny bundle
from the stillness of the ward
to the waiting arms of the mother.
The father stands close,
eyes fixed,
heart rushing ahead of time,
as if he too is being born again.
The mother,
her body weary from the long storm of pain,
rests, breathes,
waits—
and then at last,
the weight of the child settles in her arms.
She studies the face,
the skin, the fragile fingers,
searching for traces of God
in every curve and color.
In that moment,
time halts.
Tears fall freely—
of gratitude, of surrender,
of love that has no language.
No sound, no word is needed.
The world begins anew
with a silent kiss.
the weight of a life
between a feather and a soul
the weight of life
two lithium batteries
920 grams
carve it out of me
lay me down gently and open me up
the pouring blood
the burning skin
what a sweet relief
bury your hands in my chest
hunt it
seize it
eradicate
at last purified
I can walk this earth in a sacred body
how did it feel to taste rebirth Lazarus?
it’s death
You're never too old
to be young
at heart
even Freud was Jung
from the very start
altho' childbirth
is a labour of love
it's all in the swing
of things
and to about-face
child discipline
is strictly a case
of heir conditioning
birth me a sunrise
yellow rays that bring new hope~
banish grief and gloom
Empty Guinness bottles
reminders of what
I am trying to forget.
Litter my family room table
like cockroaches
that are not afraid of the light.
Specific Types of Birth Poems
Read wonderful birth poetry on the following sub-topics:
boy, child, daughter, death, girl, jesus, labor, motherhood, newborn, son
and more.
Definition | What is Birth in Poetry?
Poems Related to Birth
bearing, beginning, birthday, birthing, childbearing, childbirth, creation, dawn, delivery, emergence, labor, nativity, opening, origin