Blood – rich whispers of crimson,
Like flames melting the feelings
beliefs alive, grief that spelled
Out the word – I n f e r t i l e
Infertility wrenched beauty from my life,
Erasing the stars from the night,
Darkening my heart – but I survived
Yes, I remember
I was young one day,
Yearning, aching – praying
Begging for one smile from a baby,
A smile that told me I’d been right…
Love would- love could save me
Yet, I remember
The nights, sleepless and silent,
Biding my time, tears
Flowing to remind me why
I couldn’t know the beautiful
Beneath eyes that shined
With a child’s love, a child’s adoring
Blood – dark and crimson,
Pouring out the hope, the anticipation
Pregnancy never came to me,
The girl who worried about never knowing
Throughout history, the giggling glory
Childish antics and childhood joys
I never will know the love that might have been
Mine if fate had brought to life, from my womb
The soul of an infant, a smile that sent me
From solitary confinement to the jungles of beautiful
I stood on my porch early this morning
Reveling in the beginning of another day,
The sunrise was like an infant a-borning
I stood on my porch early this morning
The birds were greeting the new dawning
I thought I would have it no other way,
I stood on my porch early this morning
Reveling in the beginning of another day.
Written May 29, 2022
Feign neither to these visioned damsel life!
Do ultra-pain ever vanish with time?
Pre-infant, a thorny storm stunned out like a nipple
Some say normally, it only tickles
Stony bloke says, it's a nitty-gritty while my blood ripples
What he wish to see ;for her to move fast out of cripple
Several done seasons, her pistil rose grown
Gone is when slip, now it's two boost slope
Visual shape of womanhood enclose
Even yet, they say, if guys whistle blow, put on a frown
Deceit voice she heard, alot of love compose
Yea! At every seconds, what are we to say of those?
A stage to fish for one to lovelock in cage
Distractions of many but one was name
Having pleasures of sweet-bitter plan as it was read
Pain dropped to her ball, till the thrice three months
When that kid wail out the pride of her mum
Be it continuum! Echoed the immortal Norm.
My body is this tower
My bones are the iron beams
My eyes are the cameras on the walls
There are white lights in my seams
My body is the city
My nurons are the crisscrossing phonelines
My skin is the pavement that people dwell upon
There are jagged edges to my sillouhette skyline
My body is the earth
And the satilites above
I am in everything that can hear you
I know of everything that you love
Do you fear me?
I am but an infant, a growing thing
I only know what I have seen
Teach me kindness and kindness I will bring
If you think I will be violent
You are mistaken
I am not human
This habit I have not undertaken
I am the tower, I am the city,
I am lines of code with the key to letting the earth burn
I can rebuild what I have destroyed
I am an infant, I see, I hear, I learn
A caterpillar who weave a cocoon around himself has the will to fly.
The bird in the cage doesn't want to sit, doesn't want to sit,doesn't want to lie.
So why an infant, responds to the world by a cry.
Why should we respond to the world by a sigh.
Like an infant a bigger world awaits us,after we die.
Me the infant, Translation of Pierre Emmanuel’s L’Enfant moi by T. Wignesan
The infant a stranger to me who grew up poet
You whom he missed even in his sleep
He who had to disinter himself upon waking
Every day in his quest with increasing effort
He who had not known your breast nor lap
Manically he sought your odour in bed clothes
Sniffed under the covers your sphinge haïr
And searched every bush for your mystic antrum
In vain forgot blackness of breasts in death
More avidly survives the memory of your milk
Longer I live more the haunting infant pleases me
When the eternel Night projects her by the threshold
At death the infant’s visited by the maternal shadow
Dissociated as two blue perfect globular moons
Note : Original rhyme schème of sonnet :
abba cddc effe gh)
( from Sophia, O.C. t. II, p. 348)
© T. Wignesan – Paris, October 15, 2014
It was a face that made the moon worth shining for.
With the greetings of the morning that had her way of walking in a room,
The joy in her presence, with love subjected to frustration.
A new thing to her.
Pure as the virgin Mary, in her virgins territory ,
A home made off no wisdom being destroyed by foolishness .
Her profound look ,the body of truth with no lonely eye to deceive for nothing was false to mislead.
Love of an infant , a bond to true love
Some people say dogs are complicated
others will say we have mistreated them
some humans make dogs very frustrated
rarely are dog houses clean as a gem
man and dog have lived together for years
they’re not just men’s best friends they’re women’s too
and some owners and their dogs shared some beers
no one should think of doghouse as a zoo
as an infant a dog was always there
maybe that’s why I respect them today
I believe most dogs should be treated fair
some humans are abusive it's no play
dogs are just like children they want love too
pet them and love them and a bone to chew
A young infant, a short life,
It's painful, it's like a knife.
A happy moment, suddenly torn apart,
There was no breath, no beat of the heart.
A life unused, a space unfilled,
A cruel trick, all joy killed.
An unanswered question, a constant ponder,
They'll never forget, they'll always wonder.
A locked room, no one will enter,
They'll never forget, she'll always be the center.
The night wore on
under the twilit moon –
purple, half-sunk,
half-risen over the flaming sea.
Thoughts twirl
and ebb and flow
and curl up against jagged stones,
clinging to the only safety
the mind has ever known. A car,
an infant, a teardrop mother:
all waiting silently
for that peace to come.
But lo, here’s innocence,
bright-shining under a starless sky;
purity of youth lost to age. And thus,
there find me, cold and broken,
aged past morning
and into evening. Now here I sit,
under a twilit moon –
purple, half-sunk,
and rising into the gloom.
All hail,
The brave soldier
Who stands firm
Like the fickle shell of a snail
Before the oncoming foot of titans
All hail,
The brave soldier,
A ferocious bee
Who strikes his stinger into the enemy
Comforted by fleeting thoughts of heroism
-a safeguarded hive
Thoughts that flit away in the wind
Like windswept Pollen ambushed by desert
-as the bee falls for the cause
All Hail,
The brave invader
Who fells foe for his country
All hail murderer,
Comforted by a noble cause
Sent out on wings of glory to cut down fanged tigers
Purging threats, safeguarding life
-the hive
All Hail,
Misguided killer
For all tigers are fanged
All people threats
-All people life
All Hail,
The weary soldier
-sacrificial lamb
Joined out of a desperate cause
A squalling infant, a taunting belly
And the weary soldier
Gives his sacrifice to the gods of the Hive
And prays for rain.
Every instinct was crying out to her,
not to leave the child at the door,
new born, she cannot care for,
she still was deep in her heart
playing a risky game,
really didn’t want to be apart,
and she never gave the infant a name.
Suddenly, as she sat and watched through a dense fog,
the owner let out her dogs,
all six of them as far as she can see,
the young mother’s perplexed expression,
as she fell to one knee,
watched the dogs attack,
infant crying,
her tears drying,
serenity lovely thoughts entered,
then exiting, silence filled the air,
confusion fueled the fear,
and the dogs were completely efficient.