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Isabella Rossi Jun 2016
I wonder what the first thing you touched was

When you escaped the womb

Besides your mother and father

Any other family members

Doctors and other trinkets that assist

Or are given in the hospital



What was the first thing you laid your hands on with intent

Before me

A piece of a butterfly wing

Your new soft Teddy

Glow in the dark star

Newly found birth-mark



I wonder what you have seen

Before you saw me

That has made your heart, your eyes, your skeletal composition,

your tremendous amount of insides

Flutter

Go off balance



New toy that’s on the market

A train set

The cute girl in your first grade class

That you couldn’t talk to normally

So instead

You teased her



What have you heard

That harmonized with your soul

Your ghost, your physical form

Before your left ear

Caught a trickle of my sigh

Soon my voice that would follow



A gentle lullaby

Your mother used to sing to you at night

Your favorite song

I can no longer remember the name of

I just know it went

“You are my peach, you are my plum”



What have you smelt

That is your aroma therapy

Or was

Besides my conditioner

And shampoo

My old lady perfume



Was it your own soap

A pastry baking in the oven

Or was it something I find foul

Like mushrooms, maybe

A scented candle

An old Grand Piano



I wonder what you thought

When you found out you loved me

Did it bring attention to all five of your senses

Which one is your strongest

Obviously it is not your sense of taste

Otherwise you’d love me more than her saliva
Poetic T Jun 2016
mother earth does fertilize
womb of beginnings

abundantly fruitful life
Life birthed from mother earths womb..
Brother Jimmy Jun 2016



an entrancing sleepy red
my murky lovely lagoon
zygotic dreams of joy and bed
in rapture oxygenated and well fed
uploaded to this plane; this earth, this sky, and moon...

such comfort in these places
the nascent beings feel
toward the warmth they turn their faces
and their host has sweeping graces
as incipient ones grow, and bruise, and heal




Rudra Sharma May 2016
Neither there's a place i am willing to visit
Nor there's a world i would love to be in.
Honestly, I have found a mother's womb
The safest place to be live in.
In this cruel world a soul is safe in the mother's womb only.
La Mer May 2016
Your influence is unparalleled.
Your beauty is Divine.
Your scent is sacred.
Your voice is Spirit's love transformed into sound.
It is you who reminds us where we came from.
The infinite ... Where we shall return.
In your Womb, we are nourished and cared for.
In your arms, we are held and protected.
Strong, almighty, gentle (Womb)an.
Thank you, Goddess from before & NOW.
DIVINE GODDESS RISING
Reine Monroe Apr 2016
I ball my fist in anger,
As i think about those times where
I was treated bad...

I curse the room around me,
As i think about those times where,
I didn't say the things i should've said...

I punch the walls and the images of,
The face i should be hating and trying to get rid of...
From out of my mind and locked into the cellar of the past...
Away with all of my temporary emotions feelings, friendships, people....etc ....

Why do i freeze?
Why can't i cook the eggs that have broken. ....
Why can't i prepare my meal and swallow the scrambeled eggs from those broken memories and the yokes, filled with too much love or too much pain....

Why am i suffering?
An enjoyable pain,
With its smirk on its face...

Why am i loving it?
Is this a challenge....

As I'm drinking my pride,
I'm thinking about the being...
In my mind i'm going insane...
But why is my face and my cooking,
Still the same?

Why is that no matter how angry i get...
I always keep that extra egg.....
Like a little kid,
Thinking it will crack out of its shell on its own..it'll be breathing and come to me like its mother..so i baby it....
Wrapping and wrapping it around many warmfilling blankets by the stove...
Still its so cold....

Why do i still have a child-like notion...
I back up my reality with lies....
I back up my pain and my dried roses,
With its pride.....

I look back to the eggs...
I'm boiling....
*A bad egg, I'm holding...
Peter J Thomas Apr 2016
The stale smell of the waiting room,

Embraced by walls, a dying womb.
i've been washing myself
in John Baptiste's fury
more precipitation
of our seasons
saturated by the come'n'go
wait and see
the white swans before we die
crashing naked bodies
in a ***** L.A.
swimming pool
we succumbed
to their glamorous scartissues
carving our egoic existence
that time when you
soaked your hate in
the summer sun
died over and over
like a fish jelly scattered
on the hot sand
we still remembered
our mother's womb
the development of
the caterpillar
butterflies only lived
in our stomach
reproduced on rusted
trains towards
divergent universes
towards
the infinite self.
SassyJ Jan 2016
As she lay in her vulnerability
She remains open to the universe

As she surrender her nakedness
She radiates to the warmth

As she engulfs in the wild
She roams, serving curiosity

As she break in the swinging tides
She soaks in abundance

As she belches the aura of the past
She sums up brilliance

As she looks up to the waning moon
She strokes her mood in tunes

She is a woman, a beauty to be felt
As she smiles out to the shores

She is the womb, an unfurling fertility
As she carries others burdens

She is the ultimate female energy
As she balances the male synergy

She is to be nurtured and loved
As she bears the fruits of earth

She is stunning with her sparkles
As without her we won’t exist

She is a lover, a mother, a sister
As we hold her womanly nature

Note: Inspired by a painting I did of a naked woman lying in repose but -looking out to the shores. What is she? What might she be thinking? *Dedicated to all the women.... the feminine energy.
A woman beauty is superb. She engulfs the wind, the storm, the tides and dunes. Her strength sums up brilliance, its strokes as abundance. She balances the male synergy... she is your lover, our mother, our sister, our child... the womanly nature of the woman.
Alē Jan 2016
43 shots from a dead eye stare I catch death in a glare and watch the tear in your soul as he drags you through the holy stares cackling through bleeding eyes, nails in your teeth holes in your tongue all seem to scream the same thing, leave
So you go, ****** needles to use in the carousel of hate cracking your mind's eye
A Salem womb a dripping moon telling them to move
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