Best Uterine Poems
Wanna make a baby?
Here's how it goes....
The ***** enters the vagina.
Then out comes a flow.
Meanwhile from the ovary,
down the fallopian tube.
A tiny egg is swimmimg
and plops into the uterine lube.
After a fierce battle
the fastest sperm wins.
Brakes through the egg's shell.
Then multiplication in ovum begins.
Oxygen and nutrients flow
through the umbilical cord.
From after birth on uterine wall.
Or placenta as it's sometimes called.
A little baby is growing fast.
Nine months to be exact.
The womb then contracts.
These are the facts.
Out pops a baby...
Simple as that!
Inside scrapings of darkness
how restless and doomed,
the bellow crashing in like
an agonized moon;
the tunnel hears blood whooshing
in pits full of rain,
hurling damn imaginings
of her fetus’ pain,
wails rip through the stained window
and grinds near right lung,
heart reeks for a babe frozen
knowing breath is gone;
if I could pluck her memories
from uterine wall,
to touch sun’s glint christening
new eyes on dawn’s call.
-----------
*Sadly,research estimates that approximately 1 in 4
pregnancies end in miscarriage; and most women
experience a grief period during such occurrences.
For Susan's If These Walls Could Talk Contest
In the womb my golden days,
warm with twin and thump of
mother’s heart, give a kick
Now and then, good for friends
and family ahh!
not hungry ever: want for nothing
Here with twin: we have a little dance
amniotic, you might say, and often
acrobatic, give us a twirl and I’ll
Be your partner in our chromosomal
twisting, umbilical, fluid-trance; Ahh!
so many words, images, thoughts, but
No language yet, to put a name to our
uterine caper; so I think in images:
ha ha!...clever or what? But he, the
Other one, in our mischief made,
just floats around; yes floats!
I kid you not:
(how long can this last?)
Einstein Rolls the Dice
the paparazzi were all over Einstein
after he said make sure where the rope leads
before you kick over the chair
he wrote his own scripts now
Further Adventures in Archaeo-astronomy
tonight the constellation Vertigo
a place of no equilibrium
a hell of uterine contractions
even though his head was elfin
a little bone crushing ceremony
and you are out on bail
in an adorable subjective objective ruse
the beginning of a tale of envy and betrayal
you think science is pretty don't you
I didn't mean to hurt anyone went the 911 call
they finally brought him down with magnets
the meters were going purple
only minutes away from a fatal lap dance
that could blacken the portals of infinity
wizard artists awakened from a long sleep
out of the closet for the thousandth time
an army of derelict stockbrokers tried to stop them
but the obsidian blade plunged like a fang
and 73 virgin inflatable sex dolls
made obnoxious leaking air sounds
until all that was left was a talking skull
divulging sacrilege and anathema
flip the law of averages
and you are in the citadel
paradise being a system of payoffs
if existence has a face we're it
on the other side of the lens
the light is tricky in there
images fall feebly on the screen
but you can't have art without surprise
Al's life was now a gravitational anomaly
no plot no narrative no story
he was ready to sack a city
his Igor hissed let's asteroid the planet
but the mouse pad Ouija opened a channel
to the vortex of utter charm
and he stamped and splashed singing
through the sewers of humiliation
wearing his going to hell pants
with only a mother's love for protection
and thanks to the exponential growth rate
of his informative deformities
managed to lose all his pencils
somewhere between hand and ledger
unleashing pandemonium in all its ardor
being that his hands were missing fingers
most of them actually
lost in a departmental budget cut
left him all thumbs
it was a close shave but Earth was saved
From "Engine of Didactic Beauty" available on Amazon
Artist Portfolio: http://walteralter.byethost32.com/
If you stick your neck out for a friend, you’re likely to lose your head.
A friend is a potential enemy in disguise as a loving wife just before vowing ties.
Friends are of all kinds but the kind you want them to be.
A friend you use is a friend you abuse and who has no use of you.
The friend you call upon in need is always in greater need.
If you give a friend an helping-hand, make sure you take it back as soon as you can.
If you trust your friend with your girl, you’re the biggest dope in the world.
When friends meet, they always talk about beating meat.
If you take a friend to dine, make sure he leaves his horse behind.
The friend with daughters is the kind you wished sported blinkers.
A friend who works in banks, we always drop in - in person - to say thanks.
The friend’s wife even if she’s a bad cook is no chinook to hook.
If friends go on vacation with their wives, they always know who connives.
Friends who live close-up always end-up in the lock-up.
A friend with an axe to grind always uses it on some friend’s uterine.
A friendly father is one who takes a lasting interest in his daughter’s girl friends.
A friend who loans you some dough is always knocking on your door.
Only a friend who walks his dog picks the hour your wife goes out for a jog.
A friend at your beck and call must be wondering why you don’t him enthrall.
A friend by any other name is a still a friend you can put to shame.
A friend is someone you can entrust your shame with, but never your fame.
Keep your distance from the friend who shouts in your face for it’s a downright disgrace he spits in your face.
Friends who work for rival companies tend to share daily work memories.
Friends who work in different embassies are thick as thieves.
The greatest friends are those married couples with very large families who realize far too late they are/were really homo-sexuals.
Friends who give one another too many presents ought to look for friends who only give presents.
The best friends are those who need no psycho-analysts for they can see each other without waiting for appointments.
Childhood friends always end-up wishing their friends on other friends.
A friend of a friend always turns up for a spend or a lend.
Long lost friends who meet to go out for the night leave behind wives happy, whallop-py and tight.
© T. Wignesan – Paris, 2016
From some week
Nauseous I feel
Last month my period also ceased
I'd gone to Doctor
"You are preggy"
She congratulated me.
A sweet smile ran through my lips
Oh! I was tickled pink
But wait..
Is it any pleasantary?
I'm preggy? So funny it is.
I'm just seventeen
Having no boyfriend
Or any such relationship
Again, she checked
But this time, she was amazed
She ascertained my virginity
Also assured my pregnancy
Spiralled up from blank theory
She culminated "Miracle in my uterine cavity "
I went to the library
turned the pages of biology
Found the term Parthenogenesis
A process in which
Female egg converted into offspring
Without fertilizing it
But this was never seen in human
Maybe I'm the first one -I fathomed
It means I lost virginity in my brain
Which induces the secretion of hormone
& thus all other events made
But with whom? When? & Where?
Suddenly I saw my dreammachine
& everything got clear
That I purchased from the science fair
In which I uploaded, pics of shri Krishn
With whom I spent, my all nights in the Dream
Biologists regarded this
As Super parthenogenesis
After some months or more
I gave birth to a demigod
& my virtual husband is my lord
15March 2018
Poetry contest "Science Fiction"
Sponsored by "Deborah Guenther Beachboard"
Raging, fierce winds of Mars
marched across Earth’s skyscape,
in the season of the decline of Man
Fall of the God-chosen specie,
autumn of impending extinction
Twas an apocalyptic mushroom noon
when the radioactive rains descended
upon the cities of carnage
War-torn topography uterine shelters were closing,
as phallic missiles were radar target trace fire opening
Bomb pockmarks
marring the beautiful faces
of the cosmopolitan ladies
Uranium continental premature blood splatter
brings a copious end
to the foreplay disaster chatter
Civilization shamefully undressing
their disfigured body of technology
in the warped climax throes of gamma-ray grief
Nuclear twilight offer enticing mutated midnight promises;
cobra kisses of cobalt breath,
instant non-gratification death
delivered on a decaying silk bed of roses
Black widow drone infertility moans
poisons the stratosphere acidic harshly
See the silhouetted pain reflecting
from the montero-shaped mirror
Oh ... how the grim night glows darkly!
Hear the military pawns of Mars,
grunt boots on the ground dying
Civilians combat the fear of pandemic infection,
as the Venus flytrap mouth of human aggression
is ravenously opening wider and wider
Man’s morbid love fixation on death
will make him try to extinguish the light of life
Thus his fatal end, he cannot blindly see
When come the nuclear twilight,
the winter night will glow so ever darkly!
(Please read part 1 first or this will make no sense)
To the scientist’s dismay, pressing the cancel button was ineffective. The plunge into his past continued inexorably. It, however, was not without its benefits. Henry’s skin became supple and his muscles bulged as in his youth. His hair returned to the light brown that he hadn’t seen in decades. For the first time in decades, Henry felt, not just okay, but good and joyous in his renewed youth. He decided to stop his slide into the past at about age twenty when he would have his degrees and could live his career over again. If his “other self” was there, Henry would assume a new identity and make a whole different life for himself. It was an unprecedented opportunity and he meant to make the most of it.
Near his birthday in the year 1970, Henry hopefully pressed the cancel button and was rewarded with a loud click. But instead of gliding to a stop, the time machine accelerated in its journey into the past. Henry experienced the hormonal rush of puberty and felt adolescent acne break out on his face. Within minutes, a reverse growth spurt cut his height by several inches. Soon, he was a young child at play, oblivious to the danger of his situation. The year 1950 saw a tot and then a cooing baby. When August 8th passed, the infant suddenly had an umbilical cord attached to a nonfunctioning placenta. Its two umbilical arteries throbbed desperately, but the return blood through the umbilical vein was not oxygenated, nor did it contain essential nutrients.
Membranes enveloped the devolving Henry who now had the “old man” appearance of a fetus. Then he became a blastocyst, ready for implantation in a nonexistent uterine endometrium. Within seconds he regressed to gastrula, blastula and then the berry-like ball of cells called morula. Like some weird countdown, he became 64, 32, 16, 8, 4, 2 cells and then a zygote.
The paternal half of Henry’s chromosomes disappeared next, leaving only an ovum ready for fertilization. Even that became an oocyte needing to complete meiosis before it vanished entirely in the immature ovary of Henry’s infant mother.
Henry Higgins, born August 8, 1950 and died November 8, 1949, physicist and time traveler is missing forever.
November 13th 2017
Happy 83rd birthday to thy cremated mom
Harriet Harris fought tooth and nail
Mother succumbed
to terminal illness without fail
Ovarian/ Uterine Cancer to no avail
hosted by death feasted fancy
at Oyster Bay metastasized inducing this male
the sol son to grapple as psyche didst ail.
*************************************
Major organs compromized grim reaper and
carried corpse into dead zone as a keeper brand
donned as one Canarsie flashy dame grand
ball room dancer didst skittered in right hand
side o' me noggin, the idea flit ta left land
of gray matter thru me mined task didst ex panned
foregoing bidding on e-bay, ruminate how trite
online shenanagins, never asking nor knowing spite
most likely raged within yar being,
which lack of filial duty haint right
to be near where psyche flails quite
understandably, but no matter matthew scott
never did ask, how emotions most clear aflame
with anger writhing asper your terminal plight
vis a vis injustice to snatch desire with shroud of night
arising each morning to brilliant light
ye, thy lover of life becoming ashen gray
with recurring incomplete bucket list that may
already, a dozen plus years ago - neigh
aye methinks, so much deprived of grandchildren ply
their oars thru the time stream, how whiz sigh
to partake whence thee drew final breath thy
avoid seeing thee stiffen with rigor mortis, why...
did unlucky dice throw of fate
rob and steal unattained goals ye strove with grate
fully before out bidden by dead souls, who hate
mortals to complete, thus truncate a lifelong mate
to papa, whom recouped severe loss, though his pate
undoubtedly flits with remembrance
of thee one he did highly rate
despite occasions, where spats hood did vitiate
this son feels he did not booster morale at all
If six years ago
had been today
...
would I be
the survivor or
the accused?
...
in Alabama state
...
technically
the baby had made
it to eight weeks
...
there had been
a heartbeat
...
if six years ago
had been today
...
after my partner
assaulted me and
the placenta detached
from my uterine wall and
my body wouldn’t give up
on the life dying inside it
...
in Alabama state
...
would there be a trial?
...
would I have to prove
...
it wasn’t my fault
...
he came after me
...
it wasn’t something I wanted
...
as he slammed my belly
against the deck
the table
the couch
...
the window ledge
...
if six years ago
had been today
...
would they
...
take into account
that I screamed
and I fought
as he didn’t stop
...
believe that I
did my best as he
pressed and he
pressed
...
in Alabama state
...
would it matter
that three and a half
weeks later when I
went in to hear it
for the first time
...
I left with my own
ripped in two
...
my breasts still full
senses on high
my entire world still built
on there being a
YOU AND I
...
if six years ago
had been today
...
would they intervene
when I try to deny
...
insist I get the procedure
to preserve my own life
...
in Alabama state
...
would I be given
the help
...
the hope
...
to make it to
six years from today?
My grandfather Hymie
spent his entire life at sea
his thick calloused hands
and ruddy complexion re
enforced non verbal body language
voluminous tomes as testimony
to countless years
(spilling into decades)
exposed to salty spittled
spumed raw elements que
sin art finest artisanal blended, crafted,
dredged by mother nature pre
pared within each trough and crest only
for thy fiercely weatherbeaten nee,
tough as rawhide, leathery,
chafed skin to me
not surprising, since
this mariner born, bred and near lee
schooled within
briny deep ever since knee
high (or so he claimed truth
to swirling rumor), jovialy
pleased that his purportedly
learnin' myth writ tik ne'r included
NEVER settn' foot in formal classroom,
his knowledge icy
anecdotes aced, surpassed,
and trounced that of what he
referred to as grenadier landlubbers
green behind the ears – glee
fully jabbing with his
unsheathed scabbard play flea
actually downplaying any exploits,
that didst educate him, prith ee
teaching him survival skills asper
getn' taut via eddy fied tests frequently de
siding a life or death outcome,
yet our Dickensian mutual friend
shared exploits while
he dressed not in tatters,
but self made clothes from cree
chores comfortable furs, and though
a striking appearance cut, ne'r
did this ole codger (fit as a fiddle
with tall slender build),
said middle aged man appeared quite be
coming. An aura, charisma, dogma
amazingly graced stalwart, gestalt,
deportment aie
found added an air of charming debonair,
esteeming flair, genteel heir
which tasked guessing years old,
aye presumed him to exit the uterine lair
at least a few score tours round oblate sphere
as aspect of youthfulness played across his eyes
one colored green like a spring day in the country,
the other jetblue sans burnin'
four pearl jam oyster cult year.
ah...them tha many decades past
since the merchant
from Neptune to mast
to nether world, though his parting seems
like it hapt last
year, noot nay twas scores o' full moons ago,
that grim reaper came swift and fast.
A cupola shin, prickly dick creed, hoary
testes tossed, master baiting ova all eel trades
crossed the fecund Rubicon and ejaculated
olly olly oxen yawping, in utero seminal raids
with phallic coup d’etat that buck came vasocongested spades
lit torch, where hello kitty Ernst lee screeched
amidst Grafenberg tit parades
bumping uglies during four nuke key eight ting game
where pinkish puckered two lips viz biological
Russian roulette played – birth control relegated as desuetude
hotly contested fee conned, caved heat seminal blitzkrieg overlaid
bilging swamped,
whence olds eye goat ruff fused exiting nightshade
shy ham mull in, and gave way to blast ta cyst
vis a visa viz biological fertilization qua two plump milkmaids
from inchoate seeds juiced beginning
to compress bladder re: lemonades
per diem mother via umbilical cord fueling gestation,
where sonogram shows faint genetic threnody skein
perchance manifold jades
nope – no fallacy when peppy thrust with sucks esse full feint
after thwarting objection against skin flute charmed thence invades
which begot conception from chromosomal traits stitched
via jean S, and her faction of trumpeting handmaids
whose fecund ditty began to feel swell as biological reproduction
showed no uterine back grades
as Tabula rasa In utero endured fusillades per what mother tubby ingested
sustenance promulgated noticeable womb dar full expansion fusillades
of nutriments ordaining future health of progeny
riddling endless questions within the gallimaufry
discombobulated mental, physical fatigue enfilades
and spiritual state of momma me ya in tha family way, whereby baby blueprint an outcome as nano sized atomic bombshells scoured decades
to determine the ontological makeup from when the fluid dynamics
spelling impregnation since time immemorial and into the future cascades
artfully concatenating eminent grise immaculate kindred laminated with waxy substance i.e. vernix, though smooth
doth serve analogous to microscopic switch-blades.
Germ of essence.
Human blob.
Shattered eggshell to the chicklet hatched.
Interlocking family of a kingdom.
Beget or begone? Antigone!
Pouch bearing mammal with no issue for her milk a plenty.
Enlightened species on
a zodiac sign.
Propagating genus wild and free yet stillborn.
Wet nurse in a pregnant phase but still a child at hearth or so it seems.
Meadow grazing Macropod fazes antipodean observer all the while.
New arrival signage whose laboured footprint chills on every impact.
Courier from catacombs, fateful torch aloft, flambeau at a glance where toddlers cheer, sonnet form heraldry ablaze with kindling verse.
Human destination thread that spins a hopeful tale.
Cave of legends halting site persevered by household zeal.
Stalagmite, stalactite, granite grey day gulag’s natal spasm.
Troglodyte who once did tramp upon a uterine tunnel trading in survival for relief.
Embryonic creeper stuck on dry wall canvas.
Border crossing cradle cordons off a check point, never mind the cost or inconvenience.
Acorn random toss, mighty oak seed trap between a leaf and fallen log.
Flower pollen stigma,
never seen as shameful to the fertile mind.
Tree of life penumbra casts a limelight shade.
Concepts pulse the mind like nascent parabolic kites that stymie outcome.
Genesis of brainwave.....
nurtured by insightful minds and marble carver tomes.
Olympic status offspring, budding Einstein player on the ball.
Thought, the inner urchin magnet probing deep inside magenta labyrinths.
Wheel of fortune‘s mumsy shadow
ova.
Masterful philosophy storing foetal logic on some growth cell’s wellspring fountain.
Infant augur embers fan their winter flame regardless.
Birthright , birthstone,
birth pang, the reproductive organs of infinity whose algebraic series has no final chapter scheduled.
I have played thief. I
have gone a-viking, and
I have stolen the encapsulated equivalents of uterine
linings.
(from various species of fowl)
I at this very moment delight in the taste of the
unfertilized gamete, and may I just say that these lifeless
cholesterol bombs go very well with fried tubers and zesty
strips of fatty swine.
life, my siblings.
Life is beautiful, and
the true colors of nature are shades and hues of sanguine blood.
red/after oxygen
blue/before.
(scoured from dregs of me muss held head)
I shore up a vignette to free
my ("FAKE") grandfather Hymie,
whose scrunched countenanced
evinced beetle that of browed monkey
he spent his entire life at sea
his thick calloused hands
and ruddy complexion re
enforced non verbal body language
voluminous tomes smoothed
nick holed money
to countless years (spilling into decades)
exposed to salty spittle nee
where watery terrain spumed
raw elements piscine
art finest artisanal blended, crafted, nein
mean feet resources dredged reluctantly
relinguished by mother nature mean
craftily pared within each trough and crest
found thee old man with privateer mein
whose skin fiercely weatherbeaten
leathery and lean,
epidermis tanned tough
as rawhide, reptilian, prithee
chafed skin to me
not surprising, since
this mariner born, bred and near lee
schooled within briny deep ever since knee
high (or so he claimed truth
to swirling rumor), jovialy
pleased that his purportedly
learnin' myth writ tik ne'r included
NEVER settn' foot in formal classroom,
his knowledge icy
anecdotes aced, surpassed,
and trounced that of what he
referred to as grenadier landlubbers
green behind the ears – glee
fully jabbing with his
unsheathed scabbard play flea
actually downplaying any exploits,
that didst educate him, 'ee
got taut learn'n survival skills asper
pre ponder hunt via eddy fied tests frequently dee
siding a life or death outcome,
yet our Dickensian
mutually bonding friendship
via shared exploits while
he dressed not in tatters,
but self made clothes from cree
chores comfortable furs, and though
a striking appearance cut, ne'r
did this ole codger (fit as a fiddle
with tall slender build),
said middle aged man
appeared quite becoming.
An aura, charisma, dogma
amazingly graced stalwart, gestalt,
deportment aie
found added an air of charming debonair,
esteeming flair, genteel heir
which tasked guessing years old,
aye presumed him to exit the uterine lair
at least a few score tours round oblate sphere
as aspect of youthfulness played across his eyes
one colored green like a spring day in the country,
the other jetblue sans burnin'
four pearl jam oyster cult year.