the poetry knook, the poetry of stephen m. james

Poems with the tag ‘birth’

My tiny body (D&E)

I’ll never be half a football field of nerves,
just a cell for a season’s-”“in a cell,
a miniature galaxy pregnant with possibility,
an alien with big black eyes watching
for the vacuum, of space taking is not my home.
I, being of sound mind and not much say, leave my few feeble cells to
my mother: my last testament to fight off disease for decades.

Flushed at this funeral, a little red-faced and now wasted:
somatic septic cells in fetal position rowing, then wading through fecal
mix in matters (too private to halt) with dioxins to incinerate lungs of pets and
pets that are children and yes, even, children, but that wouldn’t be green.
Pieces: umbilical, ambivalent, paraxial, personal, particles,
a gorey inconvenient truth, a choice warming in an all too earthen oven,
too full for responsibility to try ‘n muster the strength to alter a sound to see
my tiny body.

In the case of the life of the mother

“I guarantee! or your friendship back”
he promises
lay down your problems and back IN my paper tray,
I’ll journal, write now
and male them OUT next Wednesday’s
child is full of Roe, love is murder?
choosing some
aborting hundreds of little verses
and I consented to everyone, every time,
“Did it hurt when you fell from Heaven?” Trying to pick up
the paper whispers in my ear
that my pen is running up and down the page–
just like men, no commit,
my uterus expands for another and
halts its periodic ink
for my beautiful child.

Your dream girl

shits and pisses and bleeds and winces–
especially during the miracle of life.
She is not some smooth plastic object or mechanized road machine.
She is a living organism breathing and trying to find her way through life,
weak and strong, brimmed with success and tragedy–
the solemn and the sullen, the giggle and the hiccup.
She is fluid and fickle, steadfast and solid–
awaiting your coming, yet venturing forth without you.

She is your dream girl but never was a dream.

© 1993-2024 by Stephen M. James.