The growing boy


Took ages to be born
Twelve hours and I popped out
So begins the big wide world
the infant is hurled , no longer curled
head on
slime covered from mothers cupboard
Of the womb
six months ill have hair to groom but for now
I prefer smooth skin
The mid wife welcomes
Man shuns at umbilical ties
Not to mention
this pair of scissors begins the demise
The unwanted release from mother
i never wanted to be born
better curled up
In your womb bed warm
The red coloured lawn
Such a comforting place
Silent
For the heartbeat
But growing large the tiny feet
Yes they kick
But only against the inevitable
Waters breaking
Exterior beings celebrating
Echoes of the outside
Penetrate
This canal seems to encapsulate me
And reaching in a turning hand
Alien
From the midwife
Unknown to me
Her hands are alien
And arresting
I don’t want to be born
I am not frog-spawn
Not a number
You don’t need me
You will feed me to fishes and sharks
You will show me the outside is stark
Compared to this
You leave my fleshy lair alone!
Mothers soon to cease the groan
I don’t want to kill her

this massive place
it’s a wide open sky
Big on blue
my babies eye
Others say its peppered in grey
And choking fumes path the way
For a rapid decline
She was always mine
My mother
And fathers often run
Weddings so often shotgun
Never rings out for long
The pretty choirs and the church songs
False statements for babies to be born
1969 my birth year and staring
the fish what’s yours public?
PUBLIC WHAT IS YOURS YOU BASTARDS
where you a baby in my bed?
the maternity ward is constantly fed
with swollen tums
the pregnant mums
are ready
you better make sure fathers there
don’t accept working fares
for excuses
look what the canal produces
amazing!
a living thing
your responsibility
don’t deny
don’t forget to contribute
concentrate and resolute
you hold down the job

I’m gonna have to build another shell
now the womb has gone
now I killed mother
another shell
another home
I recall the groan from maternity
The screaming mums on the ward
They are with me
In agreement
That this world produces screams
Seems life is one long scream
From emerging babies heads
To the dying funeral scene
One big long fucking scream
And fornicating
I heard her scream
And was frightened it was not pleasure
I hit her harder as she asked me to
And I replied
Theres enough in the world
Are you mad?
“No, but the world is” she replied
Part of mE died
As I could never sustain this
Flaccid fleeting fuck feeling
All they give you is trouble
You owe me a living
Not!
You raided my cot
The wooden cage
Replaced by the rage
Of the schoolyard
The bully hard pigs
And my soft like the fleshy fig
And sweet
A retreat into myself
And the best plans from mother
Quickly on a dusty shelf
I am withdrawn
I am fabric torn
I pulled her dress, I recall, but she just yawned and said
Grow up
And so I did
I grew up huge
But useless in emotion
And you barren in emotion
Rich in the driven trapping and poking
For gold to replace
The fold of her arms
It never will
And rags are just riches
As carbon the diamond
Black ash is calling
As casket is performing
A burning feat
The last thing we saw
his smouldering feet of life.

Hi Peter,
this poem is lovely, it's very sad - I like the idea of the boy not wanting to be born and desperately trying to withdraw and cocoon himself in his artificial womb, it's very powerful.


xxxx

Yes. Nice one Pete. Interesting to reflect on birth.

I have posted my own version of such thoughts separately.

Hi everyone,

thanks, there are some parts to be romved, it needs to be a little tighter, ill work on it.


thanks though

off to read all the new poets posts poems