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Shevek Appleyard Mar 2021
Red, and it's my best colour
My favourite mood
Smooth with lust and passion
But remember to take time
Recluse and resign
In crimson divine
Rest your body
And your mind
Teach your soul new things

Retreat to your sweet tooth
With sister shades of beetroot
Magic promotions of your moon-tide
Emotion hurling joyride
Relax as your muscles un-hide
Find your knots and dots
And plot as you breathe the outside

Paint yourself in feelings of taboo
Slip sleepy into daydreams
Ego embrace as you create
A silhouette that forgets she is you
that time of the month
When I think of life,
I see an empty canvas ready to be painted upon,
or open blank pages that are waiting to be written on.
A baby is born, their first words in a book say;
"where am I?"
"what is this world"
"this is so cool"
or some babies have an anxiety
"bring me back into mothers womb?"
"I' am scared, what is this?"
But as you say, they do not know how to speak our language, maybe not by tongue but in their little cubicle minds...they have a language we once understood then only time could tell....
When I think of life,
I see empty pages and canvases waiting to be spilled onto,
but some art dusty and rusty, gone through 0-100 and have no space left but to die and leave it to the rest, because all those pages have been fulfilled.
Life carries on, into the next barrier of a woman's womb...and that is truly where the first page starts, or the first speck of paint draws...into the ****** of a fruitful woman most babies will call their mother.
Life and death
TomDoubty Apr 2021
Unmoved everything is leaden
My thoughts are dry
Striving like a ship in a bladderwrack sea
My vanity is death to creativity

Give me lonesome insanity
And the truth in delirium dreams

Give me  truth that hammers in torrents
At the warped deck

Give me truth that seeps and runs
To the lowest point

Truth that  opens clouds
Rolls back seas
Revealing slime-rock ****-whipped  me

Give me the humming in the womb
The beating in the drum
That settled in my ancestor’s ear

Distant sounds, drawing near
"CHOSEN AND HEAVENLY ELECTED"

Colorful balloons, chilly sunny sphere. Princess  lady Temi Otedola rebirth, ➕ 1⃣ today. She made it through the womb to a billionaire life. Chosen and heavenly elected. Happy Birthday Teddy mama, here are mine wishes to you. A salubrious happy filled life of peace. Happy Birthday mama Teddies.
#c9_fm
***
Belated Birthday Wishes

Goes out to Temi Otedola,
Femi Otedola's daughter.
neth jones Nov 2020
'tomb-tomb-tomb-tomb-tomb...'
Sound of the generator
Weak light leaves the bulb
Fed into the darkness
I calm my timid heart
; 'womb-womb—womb-—womb'
Coleen Mzarriz Sep 2020
I.
When I was born,
I was dead
In her womb I was bloodless.
It was Saturday,
and the moon is full.

II.
Summer nights
became a desert
the child in me
was a gatekeeper.
All that was left,
'til now I was dead.

III.
I grew apart
and my heart has swollen
'tis now I found I was fallen
oh, my heart bleeds for me
when will I not be forsaken?

IV.
Hymn.
It was tingling
the music of a bell
is my time here short?
The child in me grew apart.
All that was left,
gone by a swift of a wind.

V.
Tomorrow might be
the last breath I breathe
'til now I was dead
in the hearse I am alive.

By the striking of the moon, gone of me was the child in her womb.
Writing this makes my heart calm for a bit. Writing is such a healing place for all writers. I hope you write one today.
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