Best Womb Poems
Oh baby!
Everyone speaks of a mother's prenatal travails
that make you a part of this earth's tales.
But,
No one talks about what hassle you undergo
In your 9-month-long journey when you're all solo.
I understand what you are going through inside your mom, my lollipop.
I can make out if you're tired or doing a hip-hop.
I know that there's darkness around you
I know that you're floating in a limited space
I know that you're all alone in a strange place
I know that you're listening but cannot respond
You reach your mom's womb without an escort
You feed yourself, you water yourself, you sleep by yourself
You turn yourself away from frightening impulses.
You guide yourself to your position of comfort
You suffer heat when your mom munches on spicy grills
You choke for oxygen if your mom neglects fluids.
You shiver in fear when thunder-like noises bang your mom's ears
You cry in silence and your mom never knows that.
While your mom gets help to attune to her changing body,
You grow by yourself learning to adjust and adapt.
While a bunch of people help your mom in delivering you out,
you unravel your own ways to emerge out of life's narrow channel.
What an enchanting little learner you are!
What a great selfstanding human you are!
You stand as a lone warrior for nine months
And deserve huge respect and applause
I, your mother, promise to tap into your implicit language
Above all, I salute you for your unwavering courage.
Womb Tomb
The baby loved the heart music of her mother to be!
She heard the water running
all over Mommy’s body and
breast,
As she listened so ever so intently!
“One day I will see Mother’s lovely, happy face.
It is getting way too small in
here!”
She heard the sound of soft,
rhythmic purrs.
In her tiny dreams,she wished
those sounds might one day
would be hers!
Baby Migdalia, just dreamt
thoughts of hope and joy.
A Daddy near of only such
dreams, she knew of no such
things as murder or fear.
Then, Mommy and Daddy,
In voices got very angy!
Daddy shouted at Mommy
“We have no money to raise
a child!
Woman have you gone mad?”
I became frightened and so utterly sad!
Can any of you, anyone, help me?
Have the courage to please
Tell them, to let me be born?
I am God’s present to them.
Not a beast of burden.
But myself and others, we need all of you
to speak for us.
For we are the precious future.
We are your sons and lovely daughters,
Yet to be!
Twenty-three thousand of us a day, in the USA meet this fate.
Lives ended and sent back to God’sHoly Gate.
Help us, won’t you please?
With love and deepest hope.
Baby Migdalia and all the unborn!
dawn's pregnant womb opens -
grasses dew-pearl strung
Copyright, November 28, 2014
Faye Lanham Gibson
Life giving womb, silent and sacred
mystical, blood red embryo connected
cords from umbilicus, abstract limbo
unborn life, undiscovered, now growing.
Enclosed in the confines of limited space
haven from the world, as yet unknown
unborn life, feeding moment by moment
living lines and altering shapes, ever reliant.
Cover the little child, unborn, in love
keep it protected, now undisturbed
freedom in birth, to live and to breathe
hope for the future, this new life, to live.
Written on 5/20/2015
The Darkness of Cold Oceans Dwelling Deepest
Into the utter darkness of cold oceans dwelling deepest,
there is far beyond any glimmer of hope an outer limit
that defines a dark realm of the true supernatural reality
existing beyond any iota of human understanding on Earth.
In this dark realm lies a catacombic-womb of dead souls
bled white from the inside-out-turning of sand-blasted
nightmares of pure evil that envelope into a desert storm,
whereby living-dead apparitions appear in the shadows.
In this Procrustean bed there lies these horribly-tortured souls
who are like fossils of a past strife-torn life—a past without
any mercy since the unloved ghosts who exist there sense a
palpable pain erupting deep within every second of eternity!
This achingly slow-death falls into a sentence as forgiveness
now is impossible and a weathered-weakness of bowels spiced
from this seabed's loving memory appear as a bright-white pearl,
and the golden sun rises and sets as rats spread the Black Death!
Gary Bateman and Liam McDaid, A Collaborated Poem
Copyright © All Rights Reserved – August 15, 2018
(Quatrain)
We’re breeding filth to teach them how to further destroy ourselves. Oroboros screaming louder than any Pentecostal. Penetrating deeper than any Catholic priest. We consume to further this consummation of decay. The brood awakens so we may teach them how to destroy themselves. Curse the son of weakness, cast aside. Damn the father’s eyes, a coward’s failure to rise as lord. No tears are shed for fallen false prophets. Only whispers from the furious dead. Master, Deceiver. Torn apart to feed the youth. Perish so many may flourish. Clawing through the womb. A septic vessel, rotting tomb. Never again will we awaken in the belly of lies. Forced fed chaos of the mind. I cut the cord and bleed the bit*h dry.
Quiz Contest question
define God in a word
"Mom" won first prize
If Mom equals God
why nowhere temples for Mom?
"Womb" is her temple
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
By Hitendra Mehta
April 2011
For Soup Contest
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Earlier : 7th Place in Members Contest - Senryu for Mom by Francine Robert
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The tragedy of a Miracle started today
Our Lord’s brutalized body passed away
Of all the tragedies in the history of man
This is one I try to grasp, but never can
For some reason I find it impossible to see
We crucified the greatest man in our history
Through all of the gain and all of the loss
It was a predestined coin man had to toss
I wonder how Pilot must have felt that day
He washed cowards hands in a cowardly way
Beaten and tortured, his skin ripped to shreds
As a thorny crown dug holes into Jesus’ head
While nailed to the cross he had one final goal
Through the mercy of love he saved another soul
He saved that soul and then our Lord Jesus died
Can you imagine the countless tears that were cried?
As we all know Jesus' body was placed into a tomb
To my minds eye it was no less than a spiritual womb
And from inside that womb salvation was born
For the tomb was found empty come Sunday morn
This is not how the story ends it is only how it starts
The Lord now lives up inside each one of our hearts
Even those lost in Prison, the ones like I used to be
Can turn to the Lord and then they will be set free
Freedom is a thing that I think we all strive to find
It is etched in our heart and engraved in our mind
I was locked up in a cell nestled tightly away
Facing several years that I would have to pay
Up inside of that cell I made my own decree
A true miracle was taking place inside of me
I was a very evil man and I was so proud to show it
In the wink of an eye I was transformed into a Poet
I learned there is only one way to truly be free
Ask of the Lord, “ Jesus please come unto me”
And just as the Lord Jesus Christ rose up out of his tomb
We can all live with-in the comfort of his spiritual womb
Catch the Clouds
As they drift by
The moist mist kissed
In dream blue high
Catch the clouds in
The sweet salt snare of
A woman’s womb
A cozy room
Catch the clouds
If you care
Catch the moist seed
Plant it deep
Bring the moist need
From its
Dreamy sleep
Bury me not to rot deep in the bowels of earth,
all alone in the cold, silent, dank wetness of dirt.
For the very first day I awoke before birth
I was floating in the warm sea of the womb, so alert
to my mother's warm body fluid, soothing and supporting.
Bobbing and rocking, caressed by her comforting
touching of me, and her soft muffled words and lullabies,
I was carried in her womb until my birth's surprise and cries.
At my demise, burn my body, scatter my ashes far out to sea
so they can bob and rock, floating in sheer delight and glee
at being back in a womb, back in the sea, where I want to be.
It's a new month
November 1st
My sister's birthday
Ofejiro Joy Obaroyeregbe
To be specific
A new era, another level.
She's so amiable
Amicable communicator
She does for me what no one does
Very determined and courageous
She's absolutely gorgeous.
I'm wishing you longevity
I pray God bless you
Beyond the imagination of humans
From my heart to you
A masterpiece I writ
In regards of your special day
Happy womb escape day kiddo.
Winter’s Womb 1-18-24 45 Syllables
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Winter’s Womb
In the temple of winter’s womb pearls of crystal plant snowflowers
Swaddled in thick quilts of snow in sacred silence nature swells
Frosty plumes birth from wild whirlwinds, in crystalline rhythmic rimes.
Womb of existence
Drum of God, cosmic current,
vibration omnipresent
manifests prismatic hues,
flowing until desire glues.
Stagnation thus is the cause
that puts flow of life on pause.
Free will once boon, is now bane,
ignorance, cause of our pain.
In the womb of existence,
ego offers resistance,
which is but our own thought form
and we suffer in this storm.
True purpose of life is play,
to soul’s rhythm, gently sway,
radiating love and light
of God essence, shining bright.
Let our childlike innocence
draw in love by resonance,
for we are all one soul group,
a part of the same God’s troupe.
02-September-2022
Woman, discarded remnant of Adam?
Fe-male, not to be given her own name;
her own identity, other than, a part?
Receptacles, empty bowls, hollow holes,
to be filled only with necessary roles?
Necessary for man.
Primero uno, cock of the walk,
strutting, scratching, with his third leg dangling.
Womb man, so they, the male God’s called her.
Earth Mother, heroine, holder of hearts and hands,
no man, nomad, nurturer of new life;
from the warm, wet, darkness to the Light.
Woman.
Sentinels were gathered upon the pond
dressed in their best green beau monde'
Waiting to herald the birth of first bloom
as twins were whelped from Lily's womb