Real education
starts
when the university
fades
in your rearview mirror
Its nihilistic
narrative
disappearing
in the mist
Umbilically
the ties
are cut
as light
comes rushing in
The wax of
dead
banal professors
— melting in the past
(Dreamsleep: March, 2025)
Categories:
umbilically, freedom,
Form: Rhyme
2010 initiative N H S decide programme we see
On halving stillbiths; and injury, quite sensible it
Appears to me ' yet now 2023 has come to be
Its being shelved, what could we see? There must
Be a reason (just what might that be?) Some type
Of connection umbilically, of 2010 and 2023 ?
I wonder if to put it simply; there is so much better
Just come to be.? That theres a humbleness to avoid
The publicity? that such results and records would
Engender if seen specially experts (who would be keen)
To build on any progress, that whould improve the scene
Of natal care, what woult that mean? There must be a
Trail of better results? Over more than a decade so
Whats the shout.? I can't see why its been sidlined? as if
Its inception and work was almost, a heineous crime.!
Categories:
umbilically, abuse, baby, caregiving, health,
Form: Rhyme
She sent me a lol on wattsapp
Please pass the ketchup
Mothership gliding in silent space
Umbilically us padded in shiny foil
Her face deflected in a fish bowl
Leaves only guessing about her thoughts
Lets dock Lets talk
Little ingots and tiny orbs
Suspended in the fluid of my sight
Just us against the world
Through the crackling and the static noise
Wincing hard to hear her voice
Her words a soggy sandwich
Pleading as my waning battery
But my head wouldnt dock with my heart
And somehow we became unwed
She was my torment, I was her duty
Her virtue was the softer call
And that became her beauty
Ive become much softer now
But it doesnt work for me at all
A completed work a naughty boy
Indifferent now to watch me fall
Categories:
umbilically, betrayal, divorce,
Form: Free verse
I know who I am
I am at times confused bewildered
I am pondering wondering questioning
I am a grain of sand in a windswept desert
I am a mist obliterated by the morning sun
I am a wave in oceans deep
I am an atom amidst the constellations
I am in the greater universe invisible
Oh but God in his image was I formed
Just a little lower than the angels made he me
Out of dust shaped and from his very breath given life
I am man extension of his love
I know who I am where I’m going
I know how to get there
I am not static I am perpetual motion
I have purpose and direction
Oh but God my God finally I know who I am
Confusion relents and bows to revelation
I am strong umbilically connected
I am peace and joy unbridled
I am grace personified I am truth I am content
Categories:
umbilically, creation,
Form: ABC
HARVEST TIME - THE REDEMPTION
There are no roots to see, not with our eyes,
that stretch from earth, umbilically below;
not even to the sun, to realize,
but there must be a chord we do not know;
Are we not on a fruit, still ripening?
Perhaps we are the nectar from the tree,
Awaiting harvest time's great siphoning
When all are ripened; it's our time to be.
And we will be plucked from the path we're on
Around the sun, into a vat and pressed;
The vintage of Apopolictic Dawn,
Revealing vast unknowns, we've never guessed.
Then all our stuff of non-sense; all we thought,
Ferments into the past, already bought.
© ron wilson aka vee Bdosa the doylestown Poet©
Categories:
umbilically, abuse, garden, science,
Form: Sonnet
Unconscious spirit
I was left in the plain by my own body,
Spiritually I had no knowledge
Of astral projecting into thee unknown realms,
Mislead to believe everything my ears encounter,
I was just an empty soul with no reason,
Not even umbilically attached to my mere human body,
I left it with a ping of death and a summer of silence responded,
I was not even conscious of my own thoughts
But as soon as God found out I wasn’t in my body,
He sent a blade of lightning strikes through my spirit,
He never allowed me to taste nor visualize my illusion.
Categories:
umbilically, deep, self,
Form: I do not know?
HARVEST TIME
There are no roots to see, not with our eyes,
that stretch from earth, umbilically below;
not even to the sun, to realize,
but there must be a chord we do not know;
Are we not on a fruit, still ripening?
Perhaps we are the nectar from the tree,
Awaiting harvest time's great siphoning
When all are ripened; it's our time to be.
And we will be plucked from the path we're on
Around the sun, into a vat and pressed;
The vintage of Apopolictic Dawn,
Revealing vast unknowns, we've never guessed.
Then all our stuff of non-sense; all we thought,
Ferments into the past, already bought.
© Ron Wilson aka Vee Bdosa the Doylestown Poet
Categories:
umbilically, christian, destiny,
Form: Sonnet
MY SUNBEAM COLD
A poem (about birth)
Lionel Derbyshire
It is going to be a while
For me to stand on my
Own two little feet
For today I am newly
Born out of my mother
In all from God’s grace
Our naked hands are
Reaching out to each
And at the touch
She draws me nearer
We grab at each other
Still bonded umbilically
We keep tight and
Yield our first greeting
To each other.
Mom’s hands are
Coming nearer to me
And in the embrace
She sweeps my face
Right to my little head.
She keep’s me up and
My eyes are blinking
At my beautiful mom
I scent of new life
And lay in peaceful sleep
By her side.
Her skin is warm
She really feels
Like my own sunbeam.
And as she draws breath
Slow and slowly more
It becomes heavy..
And heavier more
My sunbeam is
Getting cold now
And colder more.
How could MOM
Leave me now..
And close
Her heart
After wiping my
New born face
Clean ..
My birthday
The last day
Mom held me in arms.
Will I ever say
" MOM "
Categories:
umbilically, baby, birth, child, emotions,
Form: ABC
HARVEST TIME
There are no roots to see, not with our eyes,
that stretch from earth, umbilically below;
not even to the sun, to realize,
but there must be a chord we do not know;
Are we not on a fruit, still ripening?
Perhaps we are the nectar from the tree,
Awaiting harvest time's great siphoning
When all are ripened; it's our time to be.
And we will be plucked from the path we're on
Around the sun, into a vat and pressed;
The vintage of Apopolictic Dawn,
Revealing vast unknowns, we've never guessed.
Then all our stuff of non-sense; all we thought,
Ferments into the past, already bought.
© Ron Wilson Arbuthnot
aka Vee Bdosa the Doylestown Poet
Categories:
umbilically, earth, food, fruit, space,
Form: Sonnet
Ahead of us lies the unknown
The flatline horizon betrays
The beating heart of the ocean
Each beat causing a swell
Each swell causing us to sway
Out in the open, enclosed in the womb
Umbilically linked to our mother
Daily we reminisce of the island we left behind
The families that will live without us
The paths we will never walk again
We try to keep our thoughts on new paths
On stepping in the footprints of our ancestors
But darkness falls and fear reigns over us
Shrouding hope in a veil of obscurity
Will we fall into non-existence
Will we wish our existence to end
Damnable transient emotions
Ever dispelling our confidence
In the gloom hangs a twinkle of hope
Our hearts mirrored by the sky
Opening and showing us the way
A timeless voyage into our island universe
Categories:
umbilically, adventure, courage, earth, hope,
Form: Free verse
Leave me alone in the womb of my Muse!
Don't tug and pry and pull me away!
This Muse is my soul-self from outré dimensions.
Don't wrench me from food that I crave!
When I am with Muse, I'm so like an
infant engorging with lusty abandon
to capture nutrition my Muse has to offer
which makes my endeavors so wholesome.
Many have tried to sever the cord
that binds me umbilically to Muse.
The hack marks are visible to those who can see,
ineffectual though they may be.
If I am away from my Muse for too long
I suffer in spirit and soul.
Don't drag me away and detain me afar
lest you lend to my early demise!
So I'm asking you, please, to leave me alone
while I feed in the womb of my Muse.
I promise that soon I will come up for air
and join in real time with YOU!
Categories:
umbilically, on writing and words,
Form: I do not know?