"ovaries" poems
Against the lavender of a Capricorn:
less chubby at age fourteen than at eighteen,
produced at the wrong time.
Her stars are their least private in December,
moths pick up ovaries and eggs
from below her dress
left behind from relationship number one.
A lesbian curse, no offspring
for her girlfriend was a Capricorn spirit too.
A nymph who took ten seconds to leave
though eight years to disappear:
nurses say, “it just hurts for a moment,”
but needles ruin your whole ******* week.
But out of two Capricorn women,
one is sure to get pregnant.
The first’s not heard of powdered milk,
nor would she have any,
calcium-deficient so others break her bones.
She has a cabinet of amber orbs
held with sickly insects, a million years old
and brown hair in like tiny ***** of yarn.
Some parts of a person can belong to another.
This was not their cornflower-eyes
but an ability to bear child from straight ***
female parts tangled like herbs and stars.
May 25, 2013
May 25, 2013 at 1:00 AM UTC
Albert had an ARTHRITIC knee
which gave him curry
The core of a BOIL is oft hard
to extract
Yesterday June experienced
a server stomach CRAMP
Too much dry weather
can cause the outer DERMAL layer to peel
Never read in a poorly lit room
for you'll have EYE strain
After eating spicy pickles
dad had bad FLATULENCE
Some twenty eight years ago
my friend Helen had her GALLBLADDER removed
They say that a glass of water
will stop HICCUPS
From end to end
our INTESTINAL tract is thirty foot long
On Sunday afternoon John
broke his JAW playing football
Some people have
very boney KNUCKLES
One of my work colleagues
is prone to getting LARYNGITIS
Colin suffers terribly
with MIGRAINE headaches
Sometimes people tend
to endlessly NAVAL gaze
A woman's OVARIES need to be checked
on a regular basis for any abnormalities
The PANCREAS secrets a hormone
known as insulin
QUININE once was extensively used
in the treatment of Malaria
Since my sister has put on weight
she cannot find her RIBS
The STIRRUP bone lies
within one's ear
Dan Aykroyd the famous comic star
has webbed TOES
Should you bump your ULNA bone
it may give you reason to groan
The VARICOSE VEINS is great aunt Ruby's legs
were very pronounced
Does anyone know of a good remedy
for unsightly WARTS
At our local hospital
we have an antiquated X-RAY machine
As tiredness and weariness sets in
one YAWNS quite a lot
****** ZOSTER can make
a person constantly itch
Oct 20, 2013
Oct 20, 2013 at 1:31 AM UTC
Redundant sexless girl
Unable to fulfill your biological purpose
The species will not continue
- Not from your *****
Your womb is dried up
The monthly cleanse broken
Interrupted
Your ovaries cry out-
*The rain does not come
The rain does not come
The rain does not come*
To wash away the old
Prepare for the
Coiling, growing, emerging
The innocence to be birthed
And spoiled by this world's evil.
Redundant sexless girl
Drained of life-giving blood
Drained of nurturing power
Drained of womanhood
Redundant sexless girl
Barren girl
What use have you?
What purpose?
What right have you to still walk this most fertile Earth?
Feb 27, 2015
Feb 27, 2015 at 12:12 AM UTC
There is nothing wrong with being attracted to beauty
it is a beautiful thing
magnetics and irony
amethyst and memories
black fist of power
proud ovaries breathe melanin magic
hearts of silk spun
resilience is narcissistic too
you know
revolution can declare martial law too
maybe it already did
you would not know yet
the coal used to be us
now we are diamonds
stolen from the earth because of our sheen
our glimmer stuns the most magnificent darkness
a teal sunset sparks the imagination
hallucinating smoking quartz
Jul 31, 2016
Jul 31, 2016 at 1:47 PM UTC
What came first the chicken or the egg
eggs bro, just ******* eggs
what comes out between a chickens legs
eggs bro, just ******* eggs
Eggs in ovaries
eggs in the ground
eggs in the open ocean
laid with no sound
Eggs at Easter
no embryos inside
just a little present
may within reside
So what came first
the chicken or the egg
well come on
it has to be the egg
By Christos Andreas Kourtis aka NeonSolaris
Nov 18, 2013
Nov 18, 2013 at 10:35 AM UTC
be my second chance at life,
be my sun,
get into my orbit,
crash into my atmosphere,
let me paint your teats on canvas,
let me be the hot water in your bath,
I don't care if the metaphor is broke,
just get the **** over here,
the distance is inhumane.
Dec 28, 2010
Dec 28, 2010 at 7:45 PM UTC
I am human.
I am one strip of skin stitched together holding active organs in line,
I am 206 bones.
I am one brain.
I am one overly active heart.
I am one lung and 2 ovaries.
I am the same as you.
but how dare you compare me to you.
I am independent thoughts,
I am autonomous actions
I am a story.
I am history and future.
I am human.
Nov 14, 2014
Nov 14, 2014 at 12:59 AM UTC
Keep the youth medicated & sedated, then wonder why the literacy rate is doomed to decline. Birth us on a pedestal, then wonder why we have no incentive to climb. Build us from a violent genocide, then wonder why we've got guns pressed under our tongues. Kneel us before the clergy. Strangle us with your rosaries. Brand psalms into our wrists & make laws to control her ovaries. Value groupthink over independent thought & induce aversion to curiosity. Hang us between your revolving doors & shoot nationalism into our veins... Then wonder why we're so addicted to drowning our insides.
Apr 3, 2013
Apr 3, 2013 at 10:52 AM UTC
I love
Our love
In a way
I don't love
Anything
It makes my
Toes wiggle
When you
Spontaneously kiss me
It makes my
Ovaries flutter
When you
Hold my waist
It makes my
Cheeks blush
When you
Nibble my ear
It makes my
Eyelashes bat
When you
Say you love me
It makes my
Palms pulse
When you
Peck my fingers
It makes my
Body weak
When you
Say I'm yours
Aug 28, 2018
Aug 28, 2018 at 3:17 AM UTC
(AP) Chicago vicinity hit hard yesterday by fierce bracing winds approximating unmanned chainsaws violently cutting across streets sidewalks heavy lakefront blizzard icy snow resembling slivers of broken glass slashing stinging skin news alert of return of dreaded snow worms attacking women and children technically known as Kinorhynchan Oligochaetes Nemertines these deadly transparent parasitic creatures slither slightly ticklish creep inside boots preferring hairless legs of children slimy vipers dig between toes devouring traces of toe jam then gnawing toenails until they reach foot bed where they fester in bitter dark brown green milky juices crippling little boys and girls in shaven women the elongated legless carnivorous ice worms disguised as mere icicle drippings climb up calf knee thigh ****** ****** ovaries feasting on female eggs their favorite food many northern women choose not to shave during winter season so as not to fall victim to the snow worms
Feb 2, 2011
Feb 2, 2011 at 9:16 AM UTC
Eureka
My thanks to the man who tasted
cyanide and voiced his last Eureka.
“Almonds”
To the man who saw dragons
to be slayed with pen and sword
in windmills.
To the Danish Prince who said
“What a piece of work is man.”
Well, man’s a piece of work alright.
Did you ever think about how
men wear their ovaries on the outside?
Or how you can always win arguments with yourself
in the shower?
My boyfriend traces the edge
of my chewed nails as he asks
me what I am thinking about.
I’m thinking about the consistency of jellyfish
and how it compares to human brains
and the taste of nectarines, overripened
drawing fruitflies to picnic tables.
Maybe I see colors differently
and will never know that my blues
are only a midnight shadow of what they
could be and if I’ve never truly seen the color red.
And how after nineteen years
I still can’t tell if I’m a good person
or just faking really well.
And if that Chinese Emperor
who strapped rockets to his thrown
to find dragons
ever found any.
Did the chicken getting crushed while crossing
the road get him to the other side.
If I died young, could I motivate people
to be nicer to each other?
When did my grandmother die
and when can I ask my mother without her
crying? There was a little girls skeleton
found next to her donkey in the ancient ruins
of an earthquake. There were several
different species of human alive at the same time
and my favorite color isn’t really blue
And I’m really glad I couldn’t ****
myself when I was 13 because I tasted
my first plum last week. AND FOR THE LOVE
OF GOD
WHAT
AM
I DOING
WITH
MY
LIFE.
My happy moments will always outweigh the bad
And are my ***** uneven because
when I look down—
What are you thinking about?
Almonds. They
taste like cyanide.
Jan 26, 2015
Jan 26, 2015 at 11:11 PM UTC
You start trouble, Ovaries. You usually cause:
“I just got my period,” or
“I haven’t gotten my period,” or
“ I have the worst cramps.”
But you’re complicated. We don’t really think about that.
I’m here to say, Ovaries, your trouble is of importance.
You’re part of our own big bang theory.
Some people think it’s a religious miracle,
Most just figure it’s pure science,
But in a way we most don’t understand
You mixed your matter with its male and made a
Completely unique planet.
Earth’s atmosphere could be all Carbon Dioxide,
And my sister could be blonde with a sweet disposition.
Matter can’t be wasted, just changed, and I don’t think
Your eggs are either. I estimate sixty eight of my oocites, my essence
(those are unfertilized eggs, like the ones sold in a store)
are floating in sewer systems through the US and Limoges France too.
Ovaries, there’s no need to worry: that’s sixty eight out of a million
In each of you! I couldn’t waste you if I tried.
Before the internet or on-demand TV or iPhone apps
You figured out how to sift through the most complex data in the world:
Millions of options of human DNA. How do you pick?
You’re the Netflix of humanity.
You’ve chosen people of all roles for us to watch, to love, to care about.
I waited for your faucet to switch on until I was thirteen, ovaries.
Now I wait, usually with dread, but sometimes with a little hope,
For the drop that’ll turn some water and flour into leavening dough.
May 9, 2014
May 9, 2014 at 6:25 PM UTC
I think my grandmother is convinced
that my ovaries will shrivel up
if I do not find a man by summer.
She was married by 19,
and has always wanted great grandchildren
she loves buying baby things, children's toys.
Kindergarten is the golden age of life.
I did not date in highschool,
but if she saw me looking at a boy,
she asked if he was single,
and told me to ask him over for dinner.
When I hit University,
I found a sweet, mad, mess of a boy
and she was quiet,
but we went our separate ways,
she started up again.
Scheming, the unwanted matchmaker.
Asking if the piano player at church was single,
(he's four years younger than I)
and trying to arrange play-dates for me
with unwitting high school acquaintances.
She means well, I know,
but despite the hopeless Romanticism I harbor
I know I need time, (there are still open wounds),
to fall back in love with myself,
before trying to fall for someone else.
Feb 12, 2014
Feb 12, 2014 at 9:42 AM UTC
ball bag of *****
ovaries beware
lust of the manhood
lies that he cares
over cooked passion
carelessly had
kiddies unwanted
some with no dad
Mar 4, 2010
Mar 4, 2010 at 12:22 PM UTC
Gripping dripping smearing love.
Over your eyes!!!
Over your ovaries, where babies, your clutch.
There's no time to nest,
Resist!
Resist
,
be the diode, resistor to heart plunge.
Plug up the sewer.
(more like a catacomb)
My heart's in the ****** cake.
The smell, Cytotoxic invades chemical response conformation.
We; bitten, by fangs of silicon,
the world takes us away from ivy
grown homes,
torn then seamed up jack o' lanterns always smiling orange.
Have you ever grown up from being 11?
It's the saddest thing you've seen.
You see a fledgling,
altricial,
awkward,
gawk/cock,
turn from a boy
to a lady.
Plump. Or . Musculate.
Slowly they regenerate their lady parts.
Regardless of gender.
Have you seen them bleed?
Some bleed white tears that burn the urethra.
Some, never grow up.
Transmogrified they call it.
Never to be beautiful again.
Angst entangles, ensues, makes doubt
pubescence is for flowers and hairs.
Namesake.
5th Grade.
Curious formation, curious nature
It's as if we are stalagmites of the future,
We decorate walls or cave ceilings to perform our correct action.
Too bad our self image is always garbled, confused by our refraction.
NEVER GRADUATE COLLEGE.
Mar 31, 2013
Mar 31, 2013 at 5:25 PM UTC
If tomorrow never comes,
To my family what must I say?
Must I ask for forgiveness
For the mistakes of yesterday?
If tomorrow never comes,
To my friends what must I tell?
Must I assure them that
Heaven is much better than hell?
If tomorrow never comes,
To my foes what must I offer?
Must I serve some droplets
Of love on their plates during supper?
If tomorrow never comes,
To my beloved what must I do?
Must I speak honestly that
“A pity I’ve never known you?”
If tomorrow never comes,
To my unborn babies what must I choose?
Must I be regretful for
My ovaries are never used?
If tomorrow never comes,
To my world what must I shout?
Must I open my heart and
Let my feelings be out?
If tomorrow never comes,
To my Christ what must I give?
Must I give my whole being and
Trust that in Him everything I received?
Nov 1, 2015
Nov 1, 2015 at 12:46 AM UTC
I was born with ovaries for a brain
And a cavity for thought
The predisposition
To put my hand down my pants
At the age of seven
But with a good berating
From my unconditionally loving mother
The putrid seed was recognized
Its stem ripped from my mind
Torn from my ********
Too late
Obviously
Too oblivious
To notice that the roots still tangled around me
Its vines growing up into my ******
The **** that encapsulated my mentality
So the birds and the bees were my friends
At the age of nine
And that cute boy across the playground
Was cuter when I envisioned him naked
Only a mere three years later
And my susceptibility
Ignited the sight of cybersex
The capital ***
Or more commonly known as ***********
But when my parents soon discovered
The poisonous vines of dependency
The toxic ivy of addiction
It was forced to an abrupt halt
Too late
Obviously
Too oblivious
To notice the compulsive ************
That kicked in with the involuntary lust
For a pillow to trust under my hips
Before the age of fourteen
Securing the hypersexuality
So that the hot girl in the hallway
Was hotter when I envisioned her naked
And hotter than the boy next to her
So the bisexuality
Tormented my already demented desires
By the age of sixteen
Simply because
I was born with ovaries for a brain
And a cavity for thought.
Jul 3, 2017
Jul 3, 2017 at 10:29 AM UTC
The symptoms of pcos are endless,
It causes many issues for the ovaries,
There's no cure for this but there need to be one,
It makes it harder for her to get pregnant,
It makes it harder for her Emotionally,
It makes it harder for her Mentally.
God has the last say in all of this,
Don't worry for those who suffer from this,
I know it's painful and draining,
Don't give up on having children,
It may be difficult but it's not impossible,
Never knew much about this,
But wanted to speak about it.
Many women are battling with this,
It can be easy but in due it will get easier,
Hang in there and keep the faith,
God has the last say not the doctors,
Anything is possible through the grace of God,
Miracles happen everyday.
The anxiety and depression can get the best of you,
Hold on to your faith,
Stay prayed up,
The symptoms will have you Emotional,
But there's nothing you can,
This is a test so just keep fighting,
God will see this through.
Dec 2, 2020
Dec 2, 2020 at 7:33 AM UTC
And he said that he knows for a fact:
Girls with freckles are happier.
And I told him I’ve heard
That one before,
But he said that he made it up on the spot,
In the bed we’ve made, our sheets less **** –
Creased and dimpled by our weighing bodies –
When I nagged on him to tell me what he loves
About me on the inside,
Where we’re taught what counts,
Where you’re not allowed to ask,
Where sometimes it’s just too good not to.
On the inside, he listed:
Lungs, liver, ovaries perhaps –
The parts that everyone has,
The parts that can be left unspoken.
And I told him he’s a ********
But on the outside, he touched my cheeks,
I love your freckles because they prove
You’ve lived
Felt the sun on your skin – it’s sunlight sprinkles, after all
Laughed so hard, as they are uneven and all around
That way maybe, every time, your laugh
Scattered them all.
Feb 9, 2021
Feb 9, 2021 at 1:19 PM UTC
Visions,
smoke rings and grocery lists,
ovaries to kicks;
prisons of genetic streaming.
Kings dream of thieves
and thieves dream of
learning shinier schemes.
Laugh when the moon
sings eternally.
Laugh when spoonfuls of sense
are lifted by my shaking hand.
Laugh when anyone spits into
the abyss forever at their feet.
Laugh when the prismatic facsimiles
of mastery are scattering in the winds of change.
Laugh like it's the last cadaver stacked.
No scavengers.
No glass to crack.
No Saturn's curse.
None of that.
So laugh.
Laugh like the mad ********
you act like only exist
in past saturdays spent
in the bastion that was your grandmother's backyard.
Laugh.
Please, for fuck's sake, laugh.
Aug 1, 2019
Aug 1, 2019 at 4:18 AM UTC
I'm a Feminist
But
My ovaries are in pain.
I'm a woman
But
I don't feel connected to my main vein.
I'm bleeding in places much deeper than my-
I'd say the word
But i'll refrain.
Instead of being taught to embrace,
I've learned to drown
In
The
Pain
Of
Being
A
woman.
Soft
Weak
Instead of
strong
And unique.
Instead of taking agency,
I'm treated like an antique.
Fragile,
Even though i've survived
Everything men told me...
(I'll leave you to ponder but
won't describe. )
I love being a woman,
But it's a love/hate relationship
I can't lie.
I take pride
But when my head hits the pillow,
I do cry.
In fact, I mourn.
I mourn the excitement society had for me when I was born.
Now i'm rejected,
Because of children i haven't ejected,
Penises i haven't erected,
a husband i haven't selected.
A pariah if you will,
But i have my own will.
Something women are shamed for because we feel,
Feel the need to take back our power
Because if we don't,
Someone else will,
Tell us
What to wear,
How to heal,
**** our souls until we cant feel,
Leaving us empty
Alone and afraid
Only to arrest us for a feminist parade.
I love being a woman
But my heart is in pain,
I find solace in the depths of a woman,
So I know i'll remain...
Aug 20, 2022
Aug 20, 2022 at 3:54 AM UTC
I keep dreaming of you in that strawberry patch
we had – my backyard, 2007.
The barn was already haunted so I planted my nightmares
in bushels of berries for others to ingest –
you know the old fairytale about watermelon seeds,
well, it also works with spores of sadness.
I wish you could have seen it,
but you must have some time or another. You picked
me from a lineup of a hundred black-haired
offenders, most with blue eyes the color of a package
of ramen noodles or Pepsi cola cans.
Suggestions that I vend my fruit, their ovaries,
were fortified between phone calls from state-over friends
I just did not have the ovaries to do so, no strength:
it would feel like the hair being pulled from my scalp
before I even knew you.
Present day, it is easy to understand why –
I keep dreaming of you in that old strawberry patch
choosing to taste and love my sorrow
over someone else’s happiness, as if it were beautiful.
May 28, 2013
May 28, 2013 at 2:16 AM UTC
Fingerpress folds of pain
Along the spine,
And a flare of agony
As she activates pituitary.
Ovaries are dull-achy
A pleasant, grit-teethy pain.
Keep on with your caterpillar walk, pretty lady,
Making me wince, but in a really good way.
Big toe bruisy feel,
Crunchy in the heel,
Colon is swollen,
Adrenals, as always,
Chronically inflamed.
The right foot
is happier than the left,
Why is that?
I don't discriminate
But leftie sulks, for some reason,
Hurtier than sprightly right.
Afterwards, drink lots of water,
Have a good cry, and go to bed.
Renew yourself, through sleep,
Just like she said.
Oct 10, 2013
Oct 10, 2013 at 4:57 PM UTC
There is thunder in my ******
from my ****** falls her monthly rain –
I like being a girl, but I hate being a woman.
This is what all of us say:
give me estrogen but not too much.
give me the babies but don’t make it hurt.
And all their milk is store-bought.
April 25th, 2006.
Judgment day, in white pants
I give orange pulp to everyone –
the Sixteenth Century has me by the ovaries.
Apr 17, 2013
Apr 17, 2013 at 6:22 PM UTC