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Jordan Gee Oct 3
The pendulum is a bull shark.
The hour of the savior is a pregnant bride's swan dive into the water.
The mighty mile is a figure 8 in the scoot of
non slop socks across the bare linoleum.
Blood and bright are the redness of the blanket.
divine terror at one hart beat per hour.
Finger nails green and black against a back drop
of the brightest, bluest eyes you've ever seen;
deep pools of liquid light that will shine when least expected.
And the obligation isn't one at all,
for when i breath in,
you breath out.
And when I gave consent 1000 years ago times 10-
you performed the exorcism under the shroud of my amnesia
and the spotted light from a crystal disco ball.
Shards of light moved upon the face of all the space between the stars.
My heart was in the highlands but now its in your hands.
post equinox Sep 2020
I don’t know why I’m crying.
No really. I have no idea.
I’m sitting here, and I just start bawling.
There’s so many gifts and things for the baby in my belly. But, nothing for me.
I’m making a whole child and I get nothing.
I can’t sleep at night, I’m uncomfortable.
A body pillow would help, but I’m too focused on saving to buy one myself.
I feel fat and ugly, but my boyfriend says I’m just pregnant.
But like, it must be true? He didn’t deny it.
Just told me I was pregnant.
Not, you are beautiful and perfect. Just pregnant.
I’m so tired all the time. And my boyfriend hates that I sleep. But I can’t help it. I’m so exhausted.
I just want to be held. And he doesn’t even want to touch me.
Am I really so bad?
Is this all in my head?
Am I crazy?
No, I’m just pregnant.
That’s what everyone tells me.
Don’t forget to check out my book on Amazon!
Link in bio!
Poolza Aug 13
Dripping down the floor
My body goes limp and falls
My water be broke
Lyn-Purcell Aug 9

Prophecy foretold
When golden rain meets her womb,
a hero shall rise

New day, new haiku!
This one is for Danaë, the mother of Perseus, one of the greatest heroes of Greek Myth.

Long in short, her father, King Acrisius was visited the Oracle of Delphi due to not having any sons and wanted to know if it will change in the future. It was not to be as the Oracle prophecized that the King will die at the hands of his daughter's sons. Hoping to avoid this, he imprisisoned his beautiful daughter in a tower of brass [it was either that, a tower of bronze or chamber of bronze depending on the myth].

It was a prison of great fineries befitting her regal right, but a prison none the less. There were no windows or doors. Of course, Zeus saw her and desired her as she was a great beauty and through a tiny crack of the ceiling, became a shower of golden rain, impregnating her. When her father found out, she had already given birth to Perseus. And of course, he didnt believe the story behind his conception either. Furious by the child, and fearful of the prophecy [as well as stirring the god's wrath should he harm his own kin], he sealed his daughter and grandson in a wooden box and cast them into the turbulent sea. By Poseidon's hands, the chest eventually arrived safely to Seriphos, ruled by Polydectes. And the king's brother, Dictys, found them, took them in and raised him as his own. And well, the rest is history, I guess! ^-^
I've always liked Danaë and frankly, the story of her father can be condensed into a quote by Oogway, "One often meets his destiny on the road he takes to avoid it." This quote can apply to other myths too so it's really apt. I played around with the haiku with this quote in mind!

Anyway, thank you all for growing followers, I'm forever humbled and grateful for the support🙏🌹💜
Here's the link for the growing collection:
Be back tomorrow with another one!
Much love,
Lyn 💜
Giovanna Jul 24
Writing this piece was a trouble,
says the story of a lovely couple.
A dinky apartment of 2 BHK.
Each day as lively as a flower in a freshly made bouquet.
First light was marked with peck.
Followed with looking for specs on the head.
Before the office came a hug,
that was addictive as a drug.
Their love moved the machine,
and so was their routine.
Today was no different,
For the going to be parent.
The peck, the spec, the hug and lunch.
All love showered in a bunch.
An extra kiss for the bump.
Promised to be back before the moon came up.
Had to return early,
to take her to the hospital securely.
The staff started to prepare.
Sat reciting a prayer.
That happiness was no lie,
when heard his baby girl cry.
Their eyes were full,
when saw their daughter beautiful.
Did it remind you of your partner?
by Michael R. Burch

There, in that sunny arbor,
in the aureate light
filtering through the waxy leaves
of a stunted banana tree,

I felt the sudden monsoon of your wrath,
the clattery implosions
and copper-bright bursts
of the bottoms of pots and pans.

I saw your swollen goddess’s belly
wobble and heave
in pregnant indignation,
turned tail, and ran.

Published by Chrysanthemum, Poetry Super Highway, Barbitos and Poetry Life & Times. Keywords/Tags: pregnancy, pregnant, goddess, belly, wrath, anger, storm, monsoon, hormones, pots, pans
She awoke that morning, just a little bit *****.
Though coitus slept aside her, to awake for sure.
Connected deeply, they concocted within her.

They loved in waiting. Nurturing mating.

She broke down in mourning.
Just two months early, was an end surely.
Suddenly it’s over, he can’t see but sober.
Schism in grief, surely gave them no peace.

The only thing birthed, were fraternal twins of pain.
Both of the same origin, but fertilized within a different sane.

He can’t vicariously be her, his lack of expressed emotion erode for sure.
Blocked empathy, sat in store to mold.
Building within, and different but akin.
Grew a pain far to much to hold.

Losing someone for they share, and held endless care.
Made of her hair, and his eyes.
Lost to a stolen breath, for which the thief was not in ties.
Drove her into confusion, just another word for her delusion.
Randy Johnson Dec 2019
My Wife looks like she's pregnant but she's just fat.
People have been congratulating her and she hates that.
My father yelled "Woo Wee!" because he thought he was going to be a granddad.
But when he thought she was pregnant, she saw red because she was so mad.
She shaved his head bald and then she beat the crap out of him.
And when others congratulate her, she does the same to them.
Half of the people in my town are wearing bandages and they're bald.
She makes people pay because being pregnant isn't what she likes to be called.
People run because I'm living in a town that has been gripped by fear.
She did the same thing to a man that is done to a bull to make it a steer.
Please don't ask her if she's going to have a daughter or a son.
Because if you do, she'll get ****** and you will have to run.
Arthur Habsburg Apr 2019
I never called her by name
In fact,
the last time I said 'darling' to her face
was 10 nameless years ago
when I misused her
like a habit;
And now I can't even remember how
her ***** looked like,
although it was the centre of my concern,
and her ******* are now bereft
of that exclusive bounce,
as perfect as they were...
I just about recall her stomach,
I see it now as an inverted bathtub..
After three years of haughty pull-outs
I got pregnant
at a 5-star hotel in Turkey;
there wasn't much discussion,
the first adult decision that came my way
felt formal,
It did trouble me a little how dry
and ready
was her 'No.'
It felt like luck that I concurred;
And though I keep forgetting more and more
I can't forgive her
for not being delusional enough in my regard
the same way that I am now of her,
for she spoke like a fish
and she ****** like a log,
but still she clogs my veins
and reigns over my sleep.
pregnant First love
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