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Literature Text
I held an arm over my belly
trying to feel her tiny heart
beat
and sense that life that has become
my own;
wanting to cradle my baby girl
and sing her sweet lilting lullabies
The crib sat silently, waiting
already lined with blankets, sheets
and a colorful fish mobile.
We talked to each other, sometimes
since we shared the same wanting
He spread his fingers on my
belly
in the morning before the sun
rose
When the rain still pattered on the
rooftop at dawn
he held us,
me and our little girl;
kept us warm until day broke
The lights were too bright
and the room too cold
and I was screaming-
and,
and then crying.
Crying for her closed eyes
and blue face.
I held an arm over my
belly
trying to feel her heart
beat
wanted to cradle my baby
girl
to sleep
trying to feel her tiny heart
beat
and sense that life that has become
my own;
wanting to cradle my baby girl
and sing her sweet lilting lullabies
The crib sat silently, waiting
already lined with blankets, sheets
and a colorful fish mobile.
We talked to each other, sometimes
since we shared the same wanting
He spread his fingers on my
belly
in the morning before the sun
rose
When the rain still pattered on the
rooftop at dawn
he held us,
me and our little girl;
kept us warm until day broke
The lights were too bright
and the room too cold
and I was screaming-
and,
and then crying.
Crying for her closed eyes
and blue face.
I held an arm over my
belly
trying to feel her heart
beat
wanted to cradle my baby
girl
to sleep
Literature
Dawn
Behold the beauty of the sun
Reflected in the sea
The dawn's silent stretch across the sky
Is much more great than me
And how the water flashes back
A gleaming eye of verity
In which you can behold a glimpse
Of deep within and deep without this galaxy.
Literature
coming home
moments no longer
hang
delicately suspended
waiting
instead
deliriously happy
racing the storm
running down a street
thunder and sheets of rain
all around
wind curves around
pushes forcefully forward
leap
storm raging
pulls
up
Literature
Lampades
Forgotten.
Left in the dreg heap of time and history.
Spirits who wander as pale shades of light, in abysmal darkness.
Come, oh daughters of Hekate!
Sing, oh fruits of Nyx!
Rise, oh women of raw identity.
Lay hands upon the Forlorn and outcast.
Soothe the spirits of man burdened.
For as living men tell lies, the Dead tell no tales.
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I titled this "And a Colorful Fish Mobile" when I saved it, but thought I would try this title instead. They are both lines from the poem.
I can't imagine being a mother and losing your baby, before you even get to hold them. I can't imagine the immense devastation that must cause.
First poem in a while, hope it's alright.
I can't imagine being a mother and losing your baby, before you even get to hold them. I can't imagine the immense devastation that must cause.
First poem in a while, hope it's alright.
Comments28
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This is extremely well-written and very emotional. I can't imagine what it must be like for a mother to lose a child.