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babe stirs
safety a wild call
lost to night

blood ties shunned
explosions blurring
lines

diesel spillage
corrosive
chill

breaking walls
of sleeping
child

carnivorous plants
insects torn to
shreds

by those lost
removed from
breath

passing pause
brisk breeze
grants space

as dawn
stirs
sentience
organized abuse
of every kind
impacts generations
of innocent
children
until dawn
of awareness
arises
and one
manages
to break
free
Jon Thenes Aug 3
make mouths
pull on the muscles under the face
express self at the world we present to you
(straining it all in
through your finking eyes)

make return actions
and make us understand
that you are pleased
and that we are not just
madly flailing at this ‘parent’ business.
Philomena Aug 1
When I close my eyes I dream of you
Wrapped up tight in blue
Little darling I dream of you
Your soft pale skin
And eyes full of sky
Your voice like an angel
With anguish in your cry
So small yet so perfect in every way
Hold you close tomorrow and every day
Infant writer Jun 11
I love the silent hour of night,
For blissful dreams may then arise,
Revealing to my charmed sight
What may not bless my waking eyes!

And then a voice may meet my ear
That death has silenced long ago;
And hope and rapture may appear
Instead of solitude and woe.

Cold in grave for years has lain
The form it was my bliss to see,
And only dreams can bring again
The darling of my heart to me
She loved to swim in
Shallow seas but I dived in
The deep dry ocean
Infant writer May 11
With my inward eye
I saw the light
When darkness was
My only companion.
From behind my lashes
I stepped a little
With dreams to
Achieve.
Clothes humid
Like my mortal
Heart held me
When I was broken.
But people forget
The shattered mortals
Can be united not
The broken ones
With weights of all
Gone faiths, I walked.
Though I didn't reach
The summit yet
I saw the peak
Infant writer Apr 28
I sat by the window,
Opposite to trees.
My head was aching
For I had a sleepless night.
The sun shined,
On the broken windowpane.
The yellow leaves were shedding
Off their companions.
The cold breeze slipped through the broken windowpane
And whispered something in my ears.
It calmed my mind
And my pain vanished.
The door, in the room, opened
And she entered.
Everyone stood up, I didn't.
Infant writer Mar 20
Do this cry sound like rain?
With those fields of broken grains,
And the clouds with dark stains,
Does the ground feel all this pain?

Wake up to the sun tonight,
Maybe the moon doesn't light up right,
But the ocean will always fight,
For the peace, for the star's sight.

Let winds breathe from the trees,
This is how the flowers plea,
To look this beautiful to see,
And bring our eyes down to its knee.
run infantwoman
run as fast as you can in any direction that seems

AWAY

run till you threaten to drop dead

or

just drop


   skinned needs, skinned knees,
                    runs inyournewtights
                    heels of your palmsbleeding
fromwhere you      
s             k             i                     d                 along the unforgiving asphalt
that had been lying in wait for your stumble
hungry for your blood
hungry for your self

effacement to bring you
back to this place
               so well known

– when you – smart actualized near woman you –
go THERE
and stumble




the asphalt only wins
if
you continue to wear               that same pair of tights



(no matter how many times you stumble the thing that matters most is that you land softer)


                 run infantwoman
                © 2017 rochellefoles
we often are blind to our patterns.  when we tune in we may just find rerouting our path can be as simple as changing our tights if we do it consciously.
Z Jan 21
17
i was born yesterday
everything was new
i’d never heard my grandma cry
yet her face was fresh with dew

someone held me yesterday
i was an infant in her arms
her voice was milk and honey
as she whispered to be calm

i was born yesterday
the day another passed
his wife just couldn’t wake him
when she got home from mass
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