"ultrasounds" poems
*** stick #1 says positive
#2 from the dollar stores says negative
but #3 from the grocery said positive
and #4 from the general was inconclusive
the #5 from ER was intrusive
#6 from the gas station didn't work
#7 from the immediate care center hurt
so the clinic tells me they don't know for sure
and ultrasounds aren't yet insured
I guess I can wait
If it isn't too late
I feel my belly
guess I'll see when I show
But here comes the blood
it just never will grow
May 6, 2014
May 6, 2014 at 11:28 AM UTC
“Haaa,” I sighed, releasing these stale tensions.
“I know it’s not so fair to be upset,”
But talks of ultrasounds and interventions,
Tinge everything that’s right with mild regret.
I sometimes ache for life as told by family photo albums,
And could-be love, as written in that diary,
Since everything once bright eventually succumbs
To inevitable joy-expiry.
Jan 12, 2012
Jan 12, 2012 at 4:35 PM UTC
I, like any normal human
keep a list of future names
I started it when I was young
then it was Landon and Ashlynn
kids I knew from school
written in gel glitter pen
in bright pink hues
my list is sorted alphabetically
genders separated as well
it’s followed me from Lisa Frank diaries
to pdfs files
sometimes I add to it often
other times I leave it alone
my list is heavily masculine
I'm not quite sure why
I like boys named Max and Marlon
I like Oskar and Gale too
I have a thing for Old English names
like Arthur and Holden
just to name a few
my boyfriend prefers Ash or Astrid
I like those as well
but, my favorite name is Olin
with one or two L's
I discovered this name on a lost blanket
draped over a fence post by the bay
I'd call him Ollie for fun
Ollie Ollie Oxen free! We’d play
he'd have red hair and freckles
I’d knit him many things
I'd sing him to sleep at night
I'd bake him lots of treats
when he cries I'd hold him tight
whisper that everything is alright
tests continue to be ordered
blood, ultrasounds, and more
results are coming forward
I refuse to see the score
It’s the very thing I’m dreading
I worry that it’s true
seems this list is fruitless
seems I am too
Apr 5, 2018
Apr 5, 2018 at 6:05 PM UTC
I almost slit my pulmonary artery
and I almost tasted bleak ** drops.
But I escaped the morticioner's needle
I refuse to have my eyes sewn closed
and my lips clasped tight.
Freedom only comes by the light of ultrasounds and x rays.
I can see now
better than before.
And it's all thanks to the gravediggers
who replaced the phlamalderhide
with breastmilk.
Aug 11, 2013
Aug 11, 2013 at 3:57 PM UTC
After Tarfia Faizullah’s Hidden Registers
She winces at taboo, the same way
she looks at empty ultrasounds.
The ache
inside the hollowed curve of her
womb, she imagines carrying color
to fill
translucent dreams. Her hand paints
spells onto her stomach, she wants
to believe again. That split
a girl finds between her legs,
the wonder
it first captured, she wants newborn pink
on her cheeks and unmoving lips.
The pout her ******** makes,
rises in swells under the moon,
to feel
that luminous glow. She holds
out, the palms of her hands,
for alms. Comets ricochet into her,
until her breath slows to sleep. She is still,
the woman
inside her is quiet, laying in wait.
They dream of seeds and sunrises.
A. T. Bockholdt
Jul 29, 2018
Jul 29, 2018 at 9:23 PM UTC