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.
That moment arose when I wasn't feeling too good
Didn't get a monthly reminder as I normally would
I was unsure if I should tell you or wait for a sign
We're married so you can't say the baby isn't mine
The night I told you your reaction made me uneasy
Wasn't sure if you had thoughts of leaving me
Hope you're not angry because we both did this
Anytime we decide to copulate we both take a risk
It's a false alarm because I thought I was pregnant
By your reaction our love would have been stagnant
Now I know where I stand if an accident happens
Where a baby starts is where our marriage ends
It's understandable if you were nervous or scared
My mom was as well when at sixteen I was bared
Always keep in mind that we're both in this together
Just another storm to what we've already weathered
PREGNANT MEMORIES
The love we shortly shared,
Was as the sunlight of life,
Fueling and energizing souls
With unimaginable pleasure:-
We met, touched, and loved,
In that moment, we were one.
But as time faded, we melted,
Flowing away from each other:-
Now, in the quiet of night,
In the castle of my heart,
And in the temple of my mind,
Thoughts penetrate the distance:-
Indeed, each time you grace my thoughts,
My heart dances to flowing rhythmic melodies,
Caressing my soul and fertilizing my spirit,
Serenading time with love's pregnant memories:-
'To Womb it may concern,'
tho' not quite the norm,
the gyno's form letter read,
'I am pleased to inform
you are not about to have a baby,
but instead,
in brief,
double your pleasure
double your fun,
it may be a relief,
so with no further ado,
not keeping mum
nor holding you on needles and pins,
with two for the price of one,
Madame, you are expecting twins.'
Nature's womb is healed,
and birthing seeds have been sown;
renewed life coming:-
time passes, hands clasped,
afraid of what might happen,
clench tight on what's been.
eyes stare unblinking,
lest the sheer weight of mere thought,
reveals happenstance.
ears distracted dwell
on mantra seance murmurs
when will never end?
I courted a girl
Who turned out to be a whore.
She was hairy and had black eyes
What the pimps say
What does beauty mean
Well:
-Hairy woman with black eyes
Awesome woman.
She took me to an apartment
In Plaza Tirso de Molina
In Madrid capital.
She mounted me
I mounted her without a condom
And, a few days later, she told me:
-She was pregnant
Because I did it well.
Upset
And with no desire to be a father
I went to Casa de Campo
To go around four times
To ask the whores
Who traffic there
If they knew her
Because, maybe
That child conceived was not mine
But someone else's.
I told her it
And she got very angry with me.
She told me:
-You will be the father.
Wait for the child to come out
And you will see.
I told my mother it
Who was rambling
Almost finishing
And she answered me:
-Son, to what's done chest.
Don't be upset that you fell in love
With a whore.
All women are whores.
True whores are made
To enlighten men
And virgin and holy whores
To walk around in the dark.
Golden light shimmers, dust motes dance,
reflecting in my husband's gentle heart.
A still pond, calm and deep,
where childhood laughter plays a part.
He carries food, warm and bright,
hot idli's, crisp dosas, spicy chat.
Through streets of childhood, memories light,
her eyes, star-filled, like a child's glad hat.
Her belly, a tiny, budding world,
filled with hopes and dreams, so new.
He brings back tastes of days of old,
a carousel of joy, revived and true.
Each tiny dish, a whispered prayer,
to nurture a future, soft and strong.
His love, a constant, gentle care,
a symphony of righting all that's wrong.
Her pregnant glow, a moonlit scene,
by his devotion, beautifully shown.
Each offering, a loving, precious mean,
a heart of gold, forever known.
So, he came and dazzled you with his plume
And you simply succumbed to his grooming.
Pregnant, he’s gone, what have you got to do?
This may very well be your undoing.
5th Place
Bird-of-Paradise Poetry Writing Contest
Sponsored by Suzette Richards
A mind, a fertile field,
sown with seeds of wisdom old,
and Nai Talim's gentle fold.
Each classroom,
a blossoming tree,
roots deep in Dewey's decree,
branching out,
a vibrant spree.
Words, like raindrops,
fall and fill,
gaps of understanding still,
with Freire's hope,
a whispered thrill.
Montessori's quiet,
purposeful space,
a womb of learning,
time and grace,
where children build their embrace.
A symphony of voices rises,
a chorus of diverse surprises,
in Gardner's many hues,
they thrive.
The belly of education swells,
with solutions, tales, and spells,
for every student, every school,
where all philosophies,
make their cool,
unfolding, potent,
sweet and whole.
A pregnant hush,
a hopeful sigh,
the future whispered from the sky,
a poem written, to try.
For the first time mums you all said this .you know who you are.
A fumble in the dark is all it took to open the pages of someone’s life book.
Morning sickness I must be ill I can’t be pregnant I’m on the pill
Me pregnant you must be raving bloody hell now I’m craving.
Belly growing clothes are tight hot flushes and can’t sleep at night.
The months past so very fast the big day has come at last
I’m so afraid I want to run it’s to late now the pain has begun.
In the delivery room in so much pain I swear I’m not getting pregnant again.
It’s all over now and my is baby’s crying I am laughing and I’m
No longer dying.
I am given my baby to hold in my arms all my worries gone no more
False Alarms
All through the labour I screamed no more I’m never having another but that soon forgotten now I’m a mother.
The little linger, the wee wee wait-a-while,
says it all wordlessly, unwieldy:
"The momentary pause is pregnant!"
with distinct possibilities of a bow-out clause.
I can see and smell the stench of doubt
as you look away,
breaking our eye-to-eye contact.
That tiny delay is your way of saying it,
without saying it in words.
You, the soothsayer-in-silence bleats:
"The momentary pause is pregnant!"
Listen!
A silent world, a watery space,
Where shadows dance and light takes chase.
A soft, warm home, a cosy nest,
Where tiny limbs find gentle rest.
The world outside, a distant hum,
A muffled beat, a muffled drum.
But here, it's quiet, calm and deep,
A peaceful slumber, secrets to keep.
The baby floats a weightless dream,
In amniotic fluid, a silver stream.
No need for worries, no need for strife,
Just gentle rocking, a blissful life.
A tiny hand, a tiny foot,
Exploring space, a gentle loot.
The umbilical cord, a lifeline strong,
Connecting to the world, where it belongs.
The mother's heartbeat, a steady beat,
A lullaby, a comforting treat.
The baby listens, knows no fear,
Just love and warmth, oh so near.
The world outside is a distant call,
But here, it's safe, within this wall.
Awaiting the day, the time to come,
When the baby's journey has begun.
So, chill, little one, in your watery bliss,
Let the world outside, just kiss
Your dreams with whispers, soft and low,
For now, it's just you, and the gentle flow.
The air hangs heavy, thick and still,
A pregnant pause, the world held.
Then, whispers on the breeze begin,
A scent of earth, a cleansing din.
Petrichor, the scent of rain,
A primal joy, a sweet refrain.
Dry dust awakened, soil reborn,
A symphony of life, a hopeful morn.
The first drops fall, a gentle drum,
On thirsty leaves, a soft, wet hum.
Then sheets descend, a steady beat,
A rushing rhythm, strong and sweet.
The world transforms, a verdant hue,
The air is cleansed, the sky anew.
On the skin, it falls, a cool embrace,
A gentle touch, a fleeting grace.
The scent of rain, a memory deep,
Of childhood joys, a tranquil sleep.
A cleansing balm, a promise made,
Of life renewed, a world unafraid.
Hold each precious moment close, a whispered prayer, for in your heart, a tiny universe takes care. This is a time of magic, a dance with the unknown.
Embrace the wonder, let your spirit, like a seed, be sown.
The world slows, bathed in the soft glow of anticipation.
Let intuition be your guide, a compass leading you through this uncharted sea. May every gurgle and flutter be a melody of love, a crescendo of life's sweet symphony.
This is a time of transformation, a metamorphosis whispered on the wind.
Embrace the changes, daughter, for within you, a masterpiece is being shaped. You are a vessel of creation, a weaver of dreams, and in your hands, a tiny miracle begins.
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