Short Fetal Poems

cool winds blow through the streets sending chilled leaves to lay upon them curled in the fetal position

 - winters coming...

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Woman
In
Fetal
Position
Holding
Knees
Sad ?
Happy ?
Or
Anxious ?



Blue And Rose Period   1901-1906

Blue Nude     { 1903 }
Pablo Picasso...

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On lotus leaf
a frog sits meditating-
the parenthood.

Fetal coaxing,
was on trial. Will you
come to witness ?

A premature
death of a dream. Who 
was responsible ?...

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Alone I stand..steady and calm as my eyes wonder, Deep in depression my soul lays in its fetal position, Crying out for affection as I wanders alone through this purgatory we live in....

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pups splatter red
and ice flows collide
like fetal 

stars we rush
side to side 
with steady club 

song hearts burst
and arms race
as    the        snow            falls                quietly...

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Nightly she would pull her shades down low
curled up in a fetal position sleep was her goal
whisper a prayer in bed to let her troubles go
first morning light her eyes windows to her soul


6-11--18...

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Fusing closed
Secrete yourself away
In vermilion blossoms
Inside hushed anguish
Coiling up
In a fetal comfort
Beyond everything
Denying breath
Slowly fading
Within the confines
Of a blood red rose...

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Oh it is so sad I said in tears.
Not knowing she was deaf and blind.
In a fetal position for two years.
Clincher that she had lost her mind.
Alzheimer’s is one of my big fears.
A disease that is terribly unkind....

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Fetal footprints
Wading in watery wombs
Cocoons of creation
Kicking at life’s tomb
Expecting doctors
Reaching for tiny feet
Reading faint signs
Of hallowed heartbeats
Living lovers
Praying for the same
Paying for a procedure
To erase their baby’s name...

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Depression is days and nights curled fetal-like
in a dark room, with no interest in the world outside.
idly wondering if there are enough
pills in the bottle to kill you, 
then thinking it's not worth the effort
to find out  because you're dead inside already....

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Sighs
The fresh chill
Of November morn
The stare of icy eyes
While the sun is born
Fetal innocence
Unaware, the Fall demise
Young oak unconvinced
Not older braver trees.
Blow north wind
Unfettered
Against the shallow charms
And golden warmth, deterred
By fragile youth's alarms....

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I absolutely hate it when I write drivel
I’m thinking my brain is starting to shrivel,
And nothing coming out of it appears civil
Writer’s block is making my head swivel,
Perhaps I’ll take a fetal position and snivel,
Right now, I’m feeling incredibly superficial!

written December 24, 2021...

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In a faraway corner
my boredom
plays tricks with sanity
I hear every noise
see every shadow
the walls are like paper
crinkling
I watch the dust
slowly fall from the fan
in a circular motion
into extinction
I can hear my heart beat
the quietness overcomes me
with nothing to do
I snuggle into a fetal ball
and close my eyes...

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The boy sidles to the wall
Slides to the ground
Buries his head under his folded arms
Why are they doing this to him?
The laughter gets louder and louder.
He is now in the fetal position.
What is happening? Asks his mother.
The therapist has no idea.
He does not speak.
He is in a world of his own
Where everyone is laughing
At him...

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The second time I remember we meet. Looking at you upon my visit.
Rotted black encrusted feet. No longer lustrous and standing.
Nasal gastric tube in your nare. No running scheduled feedings.
Seeing you abandoned in the nursing home showed that the staff no longer had 
any cares.
Balled in a fetal position. Shocked that you were ravaged....

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Lazy clouds, dark and oozy,
Smother alpine views,
Wet with the residue of
Convection, as autumn
Scrapes the senses.

I love the dancing light,
Landscapes brought to life,
Skies blow by and
Nature yawns, fertile,
Ripe and exhausted.

The womb is full, fetal
Folklore foments us
With bounty, beauty,
Bird songs sung by all,
On the glorious path…...

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a footprint in the sand
wet, sticky green moss
on an old gray stone

naked, hand-less statues
with pupil-less eyes
frozen in a pose

of glory, ashen bodies
curled in fetal position
with leathery skin

bleached bones
baking in a desert
as vultures circle

pyramids pointing
to an invisible lion
stretching his paws

out in the night
sky, stars shine
over our heads...

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With your icy cold stare
You shout at me words that I cannot share
Your words like a fist hit hard
Leaving my heart forever scarred
In a fetal position I lay
Crying out to God please make this pain go away
Silence...My cries have fallen upon deaf ears
For the pain hasn't stopped, but has grown through the years


"The heart is forever inexperienced"    10/17/2013
Write with your heart...

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Here I am
Waiting patiently
Heart loudly crying
Here I am

Here I am
Waiting for you
To come take me
As the other half of you

Here I am
In need of love
Love that I've always longed for;
Love that I've always dreamed of

Here I am
Balled up
In fetal position
Awaiting for the girl to woman transition

Here I am
Time slowly passing
For you to come
And reach out to me...

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My eighteen yeared daughter
living and dreaming with Fetal Alcohol Syndrome,
As she grows up and out
hopes to become

"An old princess
with long purple hair
living in a GroupHome."

I'm not sure if this indicates
I did a shockingly good
or alarmingly bad
job as a thirteen-year dad
with positive therapeutic intent.

Until she smiles,
looks up at the blue-grey sky
with unimagined delight....

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Below zero in a refrigerator,
I sat in a fetal position,
Trembled like a wet wren,
Yearning to feel the blazing flame of summer.
Teeth chatting with those brain neurons,
Fist clenching, not able to move,
Hypothermia began to set in,
My cells were paralyzed by the monster.
My heart, a sleeping dove,
Silenced and tranquilized,
Each heart beat longed to dance
But the hideous snowflakes forbad it....

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Those Poems, That Fire

I stood in the alley, still
in pajamas, somebody’s shoes,
another man’s coat, my eyes
on the bronc of the hoses.
Squawed in the blankets of neighbors, 
my wife and three children sipped
chocolate, stood orange and still.
Of the hundred or more I had stored 
in a drawer, I could remember,
comma for comma, no more than four,
none of them final,
all of them fetal.

Donal Mahoney...

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Explain yourself
Justify your actions

She begins shutting down
She can hear her inside voices whimpering

I want an answer, you idiot.
What is wrong with you, you moron?

She is in a fetal position now.
Incapacitated and fearful.

All he sees is her silence 
He is disgusted by it.

When they met she was a light.
She had a joy.

She has lost all of that.
He is angry now.

What is wrong with her?...

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I speak my thoughts...you do not hear. I reach to touch...you are not near.
I matter not to you, nor to any other. I am invisible...you do not see me. 
I have no face; I have no substance. I try to speak, there are no words...you took my voice! So, now I huddle, fetal form. I strain to hear the dullness of my heart as its beat slows and fainter gets. Now even I can no longer see a speck, a shadow left of me. I am void....

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Mind in the fetal position contemplating
Rosicrucian Cosmo Conception-Theory
seen on the back of a crackerjacks box
with no prize inside.

all they offered was to arrange
a meeting of the minds
so i went, 
and you stayed back with Thomas.

So there i stood, lying down,
asleep, counting sheep,
that were wide awake.

Belly buttons of giants
full of lint-
traps snaring, finger prods
along the shores of the mind....

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