Learn more about other poetry terms
Beautiful Baby Rosy Cheeks Eyes Like The Ocean A Smile That Melts My Heart Curious Baby Eager to Learn Crawling and Exploring Each Day a New Adventure Loving Baby
BBW Belated Birthday Wishes goes out to Temi Otedola, Femi Otedola's daughter. "CHOSEN AND HEAVENLY ELECTED"
Driving down the road of Life. There is pleasure,there is strife. Walking through the trail of Years.There are hopes,there are fears. Floating in the sky of Dreams. There are whispers,there are screams.
It is formed THEN A dreadful storm It smells like corn Wiggling out of the shore I adore the sight, of someone being born
Moist Dark, the strangeness of becoming Not voluntary, more like a compulsion Just one more PUSH then in illumination dry cold SLAP all this mobility, from being From a first
I hark back prior to my birth. My words couldn't possibly illustrate this event because man's intelligence communication, moreover words didn't exist.
At birth I was spanked to ensure breathingLater poetry enhanced life's meaningThe first a violent actThe latter a peaceful factSpecial part of life that keeps me beaming . .
Right now, There is a child born, Opening its eyes for the first time, Taking in the light of a world it has not yet explored, Breathing in the air that encases it’s small and helpless body,
I think I paint because of fear of the abstract. I think I have fear, and there it is, Blossoming in my behaivor. Like a flower peddle swayed by the wind, I begin my life when many will end.
The first thing I saw was you, When I entered this world kicking and screaming. I held my father's finger, and heard his voice, As the doctors helped me to take my first shuddering breaths,
giver of birth and the reason of me you sacrificed your hunger so i could feed off of your breast you gave up sleep so i could have mine oh how i wish i could remember your face
On this day, you were born. From your mom, you were torn. We've waited so long to meet you. We've longed for your debut. At this time, 5:35 am, you have arrived. Another beautiful soul for mankind.
a poem – is a sickly, shuddering thing that sits heavily in the bottom of my gut; festering in my womb. it pulls at the back of my eyelids
It is not learned in pages of text Nor spoken from a Man's face It comes from the whispers of the soul From the howls of the wind From the chirp of a bird From the cry of a wave
My sight is now fading these last words I write To you my descendant Your birth will bring light For you are the crown that completes my quest Our name is not noble but now I can rest
Curse my luck Please curse the day My only sense of sanity was taken away With such little words And movements so slight
She is that bright array of sun-kissed color out in a field of green, orange and red and purple hues growing for no reason at all. She is
My mother is the strongest person I know. She has done everything she can to make my life the best one she can. My father is a conniving, sleazy, two-
Dear Now, I could start this out by saying "Hello," But I think we both know it would go a little bit more like (sigh) "Hello... again."
Dear Joshua, We left when it could still be night. My eyes still bore the evidence of sleep deprivation.
The big guy upstairs is what I like to call him.He has always had my back when I called him.He has always patient with me starting from birth Because I didn't understand who he was and what he was all about.Until I got older and realized he was th
From the beginning of our birth, The world sputters indecipherable wavering vibrations, To be engraved into every inch of our being, dissolving into the translucent inferring sphere of our minds,
There was a moment in time When all was right And everything rhymed The sun shone bright Cloud fluffs dotted a gradient blue sky While a child was born into her father’s hands
Breathing in And out As tears cascade down From eyes that have Not yet seen light Down her gentle Features until they Reach the cliff Of her face and Drop to the floor -splash.
The birth was a miracle The mother agrees it was the best day of her life Her lined face was glad to become a grandmother at last The birth was a painful event
What if all we are, Is the product of a dream? Some slumbering mind ranging far, Projecting us from the stream, Of thought and delight As it passes through the night?
This past year Alice died I cannot remember my last words to her But I do remember how my sister cried This past year Jackson was born
At night the same nightmare plays over and over. I tell myself that women shouldn’t think, not even alone at night, but the nightmare still prevails. I am sweaty and panting. My legs are sprawled open.
birth(Death) what is in be(Tears)ween girlboys like boygirls(Temporarily) jackandjill happycarefreemindless (Clueless) (i Pity, not envy)
I said to her By: Ryan Marks [A fictional account of one man’s story with his wife.]
Before I could detect it, the roe-underdeveloped-grew. Like a virus implanted within a safe home, Between swain and Lady lover late at night, it spreads so easily with the joint of intimacy. It is an it
I am from my past. I am from memories. I am from days faded, and from nights never ending. I am from food coloring, from basement swings; feet not grazing the ground.
There are times in your life, times you’re overwhelmed by joyous feelings, then there are times in your life, times you’re overwhelmed by deep, dark, hurtful feelings.
No birth after life New birth is after death The cleanser The self-kill Our natural calling Natural self-loathing
Dear Mama, the beauty of your soul is wonderment to my wondering self. When I was tender, I fall from walks. I stumbled in sickness and I cried, but you came around and said; "my child, my child! Don't cry, don't cry!
What death has become me? Concrete depths towards nothing. Consuming the delicious earth hallowed out by passege ways of metal and fire. Electricity Dirt and Trash.
Mother and Father gave me a kitten. When they knew they wanted one, It took a whole nine months for them to get it! My new kitten was Adorable, tiny, and fragile.
When in October the air was cold, Leaves were falling because they were getting old, Some trees still had color they were standing strong, Daylight was little the darkness was long,
I found my long lost twin in France. Hanging in an art museum. She is pale with long curly red hair. Like me. She is a goddess, born out of a shell from the sea. Not like me.
The gift of life is the most precious thing of all Two feet peak out from behind That will soon start to unwind And will make him stand very tall We all watch in awe The mother is patient
The bringer of life, god, all give respect. A cave of birth, a cave of delight, a cave of all. Vaginas are normal, part of everyday. Everything comes from them,
After being told I could not bare a child, by God's good grace I was blessed with a miracle. How could this tiny human being be growing inside of me? Oh, how do I wonder?
There is this moment,
Love or lust the line wears thin It slinks and curves its way beyond its medium Freedom! yells those tied by this thick bramble of vine like string Til lust and love becomes one
Your presenceis not the effect ofa lovers’ private quarrel,though medical professionalswill tell you so.With their shiny toolsand golden,framed certificatesthey wave clipboards around
There is an empty bitterness
The meaning of life, Who knows what it is, Is is finding a wife, Or the pursuit of riches. Is life finding the meaning of true love, Or finding a love for adventure, The many kisses you share,
A swishing, swallowing sea surrounds me. The soothing sways of motion- Rock my feeble body. My breath grows short- As muscles contract-
Thoughts running amuck.Growth is more than physical And the mind is new. Each year creates change, Development begins withA sensual feel. No more baby talkOnly, "I love you baby",Hormones befall us. A rumbling force,yet the day a calm Monday.Ther
Born Again, Die Again For whether it be the light of good or darkness of evil We go our own way down the path that we call life There is a time in our eras that we must make difficult decisions
Sorrow. The sight of a mother giving birth to a life that won’t live, ending. The wail that shattered the air. Beginning. The tears on her empty face drawn to a place that is hollow,
Expression is a lethal weapon, Locked in my own judgments, Don’t understand why I’ve been chosen to fill the shoes of an unholy person
I, the born, originated in an abyss, encased in vague darkness; inaudible; interminable.
No matter where I am or where I go...its always possible.
Just as natural as a tree growing tall, A life begins with its very first breath. Before it may walk, the newborn must crawl. But eventually runs into its death. Even though death ends a life down on Earth,
Standing atop the world, Feeling the wind whirl around me, I gaze into the distance. Gradually the darkness is banished, The stars fade to the glory of the golden globe That rises high above me.
Sometimes I wonder What happened On June nineteeth, 'ninety-five - The day before my birth. Before I opened my eyes Before I took my first breath of fresh air Before I touched the world with tiny fingers
A pure divine to life, beautiful as a lotus that blooms from the dripples of water, and the rays from the sun. From the soil a seed was planted, deep in the womb The anatomy wept from agony and painless fear