Autumn gone, now winter frost,
Reflections return, times long lost.
Words, pictures plucked from air,
Those I know are always there.
Sixty years ago and more,
When life and love could only soar.
My world consumed by you and lust,
Our future set, and robust.
Abrupt and sudden, torn in two,
Scattered leaves, no more glue.
Whistling wind, and desert rain,
Drowned my pleas, all in vain.
Remember me, you almost married,
Then sudden shift, and love miscarried.
Among your dreams, perchance,
Are those years when we did dance.
Holy Love in Glenda-Sue, deep root of Love
Will challenge you ' And me and all who think
We know? In what directions our lives should
Go'
No reason beyond..Just one (that was love')
She broke out, due to much push and shove!
Carrying a child concived by men against her
Choice way back when.'
A mental age of 'just eleven' not much help or money
Was she given..She birthed her son in a box of
Card' then placed him in care, my God this was
Hard.'
The boy got fostered he grew, and loved gained
A wife, together they faced hard stuff, twice she sadly
Miscarried within their time , so he sought his Mom
Of birth, while in this bind.'
His thoughts of decades.. His guesses why.? That
Kept him grim company, we're soon to die' his Mom
He was to find, in a care home now, still at age 11
In her mind'
But wow.' He sang her a line of amazing grace, then
Broke down; tears covering his face' she finished those
Words.' Like she finished before' when she deliverd her
Son who now serves the Lord.'
You had brought me into this world
when you were only twenty three years old
you must of had the word "mine"
in your thoughts when you named me "Mia"
You had trained me from an infant
on curbing the challenges of life no matter the size
even after I have blossomed into a matured woman
you never stopped training me
I have always been your most safeguarded child
because of my hidden birth defect
unlike my teachers and many others
who had failed me on a daily basis
you could have aborted me, miscarried me
forsaken me in the maternity ward or even born sleeping
but you never gave up on me
you were tenacious enough to overcome it
I knew you have missed out
on receiving legitimate parental support
when you were growing up as a child
but that did not precluded you from becoming a stern
but encouraging mother to my sister and I
The love and affection we may recieve from
our friends, teachers and significant others
would always blow hot and cold thoughout our lives
but your love and care for us would never drop out of sight
On a dark, dark night
two emotional vampires met
their teeth were pearly white.
She was suffering,
he was recovering,
he however kept his wounds
tucked within a left kidney
where they festered
and leaked.
She knew he was her savior, just knew it.
He backed off while moving forwards,
they clutched
they fed off each other.
She told and retold him
of betrayals, her abuse,
her medicated madness.
He listened
dripping a sweet venom
which he called love.
Of course
the relationship was a huge success.
She dug a suicide hole in his chest
and he carried her around
until he they both miscarried.
tears carved vacant craters of faceless grin
fake smile wrestled with mute hollow mark
masked terror scorched a defenceless skin
soiled canvass shed masked terror in the dark
breathless submerged by cascades of sorrow
she lived charades of miscarried contempt
past smeared foul water with no tomorrow
yet the wind whispered one final attempt
she bowed to the rain and slippery grounds
took of her veil and braved the naked truth
opened floodgates to inner voice’s sounds
they had abused her and stolen her youth
she embraced assaults and gathered raw pain
harvested anger reaped rage braved her fear
wondered whether she would live once again
would ever find ways to hold herself dear
the cliff edge stood firm for one faithful move
spread overdue wings of hope trust and dreams
vowed on impact there was nothing to prove
except crushed horror and oppressor’s screams
16th November 2020
those worlds are lost to me now,
once achingly close,
like yesterday's rain,
but, will I see you then,
in this egg of memory,
cracked open with a sigh,
fleeing like smoke,
with a faint smile on a face,
ghosting in kodachrome?
ah, but our arrow of time,
affliction of our race,
trails ashes behind,
piercing forward, forward,
pitiless unrelents,
passing present past,
I, me, the stranger who waits,
one who was not so long ago,
to these, our familiar spectres,
longed for by we,
melting in moments,
our ageless affliction,
but future and promise,
ring hollow when grasped,
a love miscarried before,
blooms dankly below,
seed germinating on barren soil,
and I, alone in revolutions,
light dark then light again,
await that missle's last flight,
quiet now, like dust.
My little seed in its soft pod.
My little egg fertilised by love.
Splitting and dividing.
A little gift from up above.
My little silver blackberry of cells.
Floating like a balloon.
My body getting ready for you.
I'd hold you in a cocoon.
My little sprouting bean.
Little buddy arms and legs growing.
Little heart beating.
My love overflowing.
My little fish,
In your bubble of water.
I still couldn't feel you.
My sweet darling daughter.
My body kept you warm.
My body helped you grow.
Everything was wonderful.
Little did I know.
Something happened my baby girl.
At fourteen weeks I miscarried you.
My womb empty, baby gone.
I loved you.
Love you still.
Just wish you'd grew.
Casualties of war
Godlike? No. Human? Maybe.
Yet living above the bones of dead babies.
Who fell to their deaths from the top of the world,
The forgotten, the miscarried, the unfortunate boys and girls.
Now the babies lie with bullets,
Sanctity no longer exists.
Once upon a time, we were all for it,
Now we just wish this war would cease.
Fire! Called the Sergeant as the Gerry’s advanced.
Onward called the General, as the men became entrenched,
In the trenches and fell to their knees;
Some preyed to the lord above, others fell down silently.
Many days and many nights had come to pass
And still ol’ Blighty was under attack.
Churchill’s calls, spurred on a nation;
Whilst mothers and babies, were simply seeking salvation.
The babies cried, as the explosions filled the skies;
The poor boys tardiness, meant he had to find somewhere to hide
And pray he wasn’t killed by the bombs or the bullets.
Just hoping not to die in a watery grave.
For all that’s left in the bottom of your rivers,
Is babies bones and war souvenirs
(C)2013 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
Another dead statistic dawns today,
Contempt dissolved foundations love astray.
Malicious memories of miscarried mirth,
Repetitious resolving rends rebirth.
Too far, too strange, oh we have now become.
Decisions bleeding passions cold and numb.
My frozen frigid feelings fade to black
Behold the barracuda's bitter back.
Oblique sidewalks a house no longer home.
Neglect’s hand opened doors for needs to roam.
Bent and broken, beautiful bygone heart
Past promises play the party-line part.
Divided assets fighting custodies
New boxes cardboard tombs of memories.
Separations and somber songs subside
Choice-less children and contemptible chides.
Petitioned courts and mediation pleas
Sustaining into absolute decrees.
Formerly favored family so forlorn.
Forever festers feeble foolishness.
----------------------------------------------------
A collaboration with Catie Lindsey.
Iambic Pentameter & Alliteration.
I am inspired by a contest theme to write a poem
The muse becomes a secondary thing.
Even if the muse is inspired,
and I try to scribe something
on a theme of my choice,
the contest themes overrules my mind.
As a result, my mind tries to search on the themes
About to reach Denmark, I reach Norway.
and then; syllable counts, iambic meter
number of words per line, number of lines
and then the instructions of the sponsors;
I would specifically love this and that,
I am very strict about this and that
don’t write your name, write your name.
After spending hours for a poem
If I forget to comply to any of the rules
my love’s labor is partially lost
but certainly not miscarried.
As I feel dejected and rejected for a while
I feel happy, very happy thanks to the contest
that one more poem is added to my collection.
The same poem I use it for another contest.
Lo! The poem is a winner.
December 30, 2014
Form: Free Verse
I was growing there in you so eager to be born,
But God decided to take me to be with Him that morn.
Now I sit beside His throne with millions just like me;
Their mothers chose just to abort and not their baby see.
You were not like them at all, you waited for that day
When you would welcome me with love and not be in your way.
But God loves children very much regardless of their creed,
He said such were of kingdom there so I have met His need.
Though you are sad you never saw my smiling gentle face
There on the earth, you’ll see me here because of God’s great grace.
You’ll hold me for eternity in this land full of cheer,
So Mom, I just can hardly wait until I see you here!
This poem was written as comfort for my niece when she lost her second baby through miscarriage.
***Show your teeth the doctor said your diagnosis is complete you're half- dead half-alive you are suffering from Schrödinger equation syndrome.....
** Funny tales are funny because they tell our stories............
**My wife Sarah's nose is a pitchfork which lifts scents of my doing-nothings....
**Three orphan kittens call the moon their mother and tell her to come down to make their beds........
**You kiss your squid wife at sea-food platter .................
**He kicked on other people's scuttle-butt..........
**Scuzzy little imp stole cats out of the bag............
** He washed his tired ass at sea........
**My wife's crummiest cake took a bathing naked like a porpoise......
**Anna miscarried justice John. He put on much weight ...........
**His sperms are miscounted by a desk lady of immigration department......
**He was punished three moons, four butterflies, five flowers and one thousand kisses by a Poetic Justice........
** They were three sisters--scud-eyed, skid-eyed, and squid-eyed......
** He could not do foreplay because he didn't make the first act of the play........
**He was served automobile soup, aristocratic juice, and autocratic nuts......
IT'S BEEN A LONG TIME
WE WERE LIKE PARTNERS IN CRIME
IT'S BEEN A WHILE SINCE SHE DIED
SHE'S OUT OF MY SIGHT
BUT THE MEMORIES OF HER STILL PLAYS ON MY MIND
HEAR THE SOUND OF CHIMES
FLIES A MAGPIE IN THE DEEP BLUE SKIES
I DON'T HEAR SILENCE
I SPEAK OF THE EXPERIENCE LIKE SHE WAS STILL MY ACQUAINTENCE
OUR LOVE FOR EACH OTHER WAS CLOSE BY
NEITHER OF US NEVER WENT OUT OF LINE
YEAH THAT'S A SIGN
I SHED TEARS WHILST I CRY
WE HAD TOO MUCH OF ONE'S EFFECTION
THE LEAST I COULD SAY IS GOOD BYE
I MISS HER SOLEMNLY
NOW SHE'S WALKING UP THE STAIRS WITH THE HEAVENLY
ALL OUR LIVES
WE COULD'NT CONCEIVE NO CHILDREN
HER WOMB DECLINED
THOUGHTS OF ADOPTION CROSSED OUR MINDS
THEIR WOULD'NT BE BIOLOGICALLY MINE
SHE MISCARRIED
WE DID'NT WANT NO WED -LOCK
WE WOULD'NT BE ABLE TO FRAIN THE NEIGHBOURS FROM DARTING INSULTS AT US NON-STOP
Life is sometimes miscarried.
Mental tormenting?
Why this end?
© October 30, 2011
Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen
Written for Poetry Soup Member Contest: Quinzaine Again
Sponsored by: Dr.Ram Mehta
My love is a miscarried child,
a faceless evil aborted
before its heart could start beating,
before its eyes could grow in.
Of course I would hide it away!
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