The Umbilical Connect
the umbilical chord's
severed to let me be
to know my 'self'
and ever since
i continue to struggle
but even while it's intact
you knew your 'self'
for you're blessed with
the wisdom to unravel
the ever intriguing
birth and death
while the chord nurtured you...
what blessed soul must have
descended to bless my womb
is that all i owed you
nurturing you within
the confines
of my womb...
blessed is my womb
to have sheltered
you on this earth
to deliver you back
to the realms unknown
no, no...
i don't pull you to
the earth bound travails
but
at times i wonder
what you, whom i called
naciketa looked like...
you showed me the way
that in birth, is contained death
30oct2009
15.54hrs
poem by Indira Babbellapati
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Related quotes
Womb to womb to tomb
I am born unto this womb
To be born again unto another womb
Before I take birth once again unto another womb
Then as mark of respect
A tomb shall man place on that womb
To remind the world
That this day a man
Was, born unto this womb.
Before another birth I seek
To live another life in another womb
In the seas of life I shall swim
Before I am once again ready
To take birth unto this womb
To be born again unto another womb
Before, I take birth once again to be entombed.
©cyclopseven. All rights reserved 290108.
poem by cyclopseven Ram
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The Still Borns Of Africa
we are still in the womb
swimming in the filthy fluid of corruption
we are still in the womb
battling to cut the umbilical cord of pollution
we are still in the womb
preying on the reminant of deprived relation
we are still in the womb
drowning in the congest world of deprivation
we are still in the womb
protesting against divisional segregation
we are still in the womb
exsalting the strength of voices calling for attention
we are still in the womb
reaching the spheres through screw faces and traumatic expression
we are still in the womb
paddling our ways through neglect and isolation
we are still in the womb
stirring gently towards the end of our active function
we are still in the womb of africa
waiting to be called the still borns of our mother
poem by Kemurl Fofanah
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Blessed be His Children
Blessed be a child of God
Who upon birth looked wide eyed
Who looked at his creation
And are humbled and amazed
Blessed be the children
Innocent and pure
For they know nothing of race
Religion
Sex
Class
Or nation
For they view each thing as a new miracle
O pity the children
Who left the womb
Who entered the world that feeds off sin
That teaches hate
That limps as it slowly dies
O pity the children
For they will not be pure for long
poem by Michael Silver
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Be Very Patient
Be very patient,
The potter's clay;
Be very wise,
The writer's pen;
Be very useful,
Of the muse of life with a living hope;
Let your yes be yes and your no be no.
Life is like the patience of Iyyob,
So abstain from fleshly lust;
Like the days of our visitations on this earth.
Sarah obeyed Abraham,
Like the sea and the seashore;
So established are the two witnesses.
Oh womb, womb, womb!
Oh bomb, bomb, bpomb! !
Oh tomb, tomb, tomb! ! !
Be very patient in this life.
Womb. bomb, tomb;
The womb is opened.
Womb, bomb, tomb;
The earth is defiled.
Womb, bomb, tomb;
The time of trouble on this earth with our muses.
Our bombs will shake the heavens,
And our sins will led us to our tombs;
As it is written in the Book Of Life like,
A child born today from the womb.
We came out of the womb and,
Many of us will be killed by the bombs! !
Which will finally send us into the tombs.
Read about the facts,
Learn about the truth,
Our days of darkness from the womb!
We came out of the womb and,
Are destroying the world with our bombs;
Soon, we will be buried in the tombs!
Womb, bomb, tomb;
Be very patient on this earth without hatred.
Lets be each others keeper,
Lets learn for the truth of all things;
Our days on this earth is still very short.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Miracle Of The Rosary
(words & music by l. deanson)
Oh blessed mother we pray to thee
Thanks for the miracle of your rosary
Only you can hold back
Your holy sons hand
Long enough for the whole world to understand
Hail, mary full of grace
The lord is with thee
Blessed are thou among women
And blessed is the fruit of thy womb, jesus
Oh holy mary dear mother of god
Please pray for us sinners
Now and at the hour of our death
And give thanks once again
For the miracle of your rosary
song performed by by Elvis Presley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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How Blessed Am I
How blessed am I for being born
Of parents good and God-fearing!
How blessed am I for siblings nine
Who made my childhood truly great!
How blessed am I for being made
Handsome and healthy, fair and hale!
How blessed am I for gaining ken
And virtues, wisdom, fortitude!
How blessed am I for being reared
So well by parents dutiful!
How blessed am I for achievements
Quite praiseworthy in life on earth!
How blessed am I for having fared
So well in life in every field!
How blessed am I for talents, gifts
That most men cannot dream to have!
How blessed am I for miracles
That gave my life a newer lease!
How blessed am I for finding time
To thank and praise the Almighty!
How blessed am I for grace of God
That goads me on in heaven’s road!
How blessed am I for everything
God gave me amply in His time!
How blessed am I for love of God
That chose me to be Christian!
How blessed am I for hope and faith
That help me follow Jesus’ steps!
How blessed am I for poesy
That made my life stress-free, worthwhile!
How blessed am I for God’s with me
And I’m with Him in earthly life!
poem by John Celes
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Death Is Death, Dissolution Of All
All over this mammoth Earth,
There is nothing like death;
All over this mammoth Earth,
Nothing escapes death
Except that strange death itself.
What is this death,
Perchance, death itself knows not;
Whence it springs,
Where are its wings,
Fancied none in these million years.
It’s the live black hole
In dance along the time’s scale;
Nothing escapes its rapacious field
And nothing ever breaks out of its shield,
Death is death, dissolution of all.
Is death a beginning, none ever ever knows,
No mysteries as mysterious as death ever is;
No light or shade nor talent prised it,
No voyages ever came back out of its womb,
Nor light-years ever scaled the depth of death.
Death brings down all to the Nature’s womb,
To the Natures pristine pure form;
No rise or fall nor glory or shame,
‘Neath the mysterious death, all are same;
Indeed, the supreme equalizer is death.
Death is true peace, death is ultimate pain,
Death is finding peace in the folds of pain;
Death robs light and spreads dark night
And numbs soul to the inevitable truth, that
Born out of night, but we are part of that night.
poem by Praveen Kumar
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Daughter of my womb
Daughter of my womb
You've stabbed my heart so bad
You've killed the bearer of your life
Daughter of my womb am dying
My smile is but a frown
I have no idea whom I will crown
As the daughter of your womb
For you've sent them all to the tomb
My wrinkled hands needed a tender one
My closing eye libs needed to see before they are gone
The seed of the seed of my womb are no more
Daughter of my womb, you've killed the daughters of your womb
The medicine man in his robes
Administered the wrong root for a drug
Your womb is empty I have nothing to wait for
Why didn't you tell me of your planned atrocities before?
Daughter of my womb
Daughter of my womb
You've stabbed my heart so bad
You've killed the bearer of your womb
You've sent your seed to the tomb
You've dragged the generation of your womb
Daughter of my womb, you've killed us.
poem by Robert Abok
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The South Wind: A Fisherman's Blessing
O blessed drums of Aldershot!
O blessed South-west train!
O blessed, blessed Speaker's clock,
All prophesying rain!
O blessed yaffil, laughing loud!
O blessed falling glass!
O blessed fan of cold gray cloud!
O blessed smelling grass!
O bless'd South wind that toots his horn
Through every hole and crack!
I'm off at eight to-morrow morn,
To bring
such
fishes back!
Eversley, April 1, 1856.
poem by Charles Kingsley
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Trinity Of Carnatic Music 2-Muthuswamy Dhikshitar
Blessed Yogi when blessed
Blessed was your cognizant mastery
To be blessed from the sacred depths
Devi Ganga to treasure you with Rama-Veena
Blessed later when the Lord of Tiruttani
Blessed was 'you' with your vibhakti kritis
To be blessed from the heavenly treasury
'GuruGuha' to treasure you in bouffant compendium
Blessed your sanskrit lexicon when blessed
Blessed Navavarna kritis blossomed in stacks
To be blessed then planetary nine in seven talas
Extended seventy two Kartas issuing varieties aplenty
Blessed your peripatetic journey when blessed
Blessed Amrithavarshini pattered driving drought
To be blessed you then to sing to Madurai Meenakshi
'Meenalochani Pasamochani'to board you of Her abode
Blessed scholar with blessed knowledge
Blessed verbarian, blessed musician
To be blessed is we O'Guru, by your soul
Devis and deities from your resort of music
poem by Indira Renganathan
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A Blessed Land
A blessed land
Yields Abundance from its soil,
It mountains hand
Its people, Harvest for their toil.
A faithful womb
That births forth much Provision,
She's one from whom
We sow our bountiful nutrition.
Our blessed land
We pray God keep Her so!
And that we stand
United, together make Her grow.
God bless Her with Peace
His Truth upon Her, shine-
May the Grace that is His
Bless this lovely land of mine!
'May the favor of the LORD rest upon us,
establish the work of our hands for us...
Psalm 90: 17
poem by Cynthia Buhain-Baello
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Earthly Laws and ‘in utero’ Baby Rights!
Womb’s environs must be made conducive
For growth of every seed God-implanted;
The birth-canal is road to every life
That seeks a state of separate existence!
Man ought to help the life within the womb
To grow and get nourishment that’s timely;
Let none convert the sacred womb to tomb,
Enacting laws to curb birth ruthlessly!
Why muffle throats that yearn to raise ‘first cry’,
And see their parents’ faces and God’s sky!
The laws on earth shouldn’t make life worse in womb,
Curtailing growth of human progeny!
‘Unwanted child’ is no excuse to kill!
God heals some unborn, unhealthy and ill!
A few jurors can’t decide mankind’s fate,
And tilt the balance against life each time!
All forms of life get innate rights from God,
Including growth, birth, earthly existence;
No king or leader shall undo these rights
Of life, God-made or hinder their free birth!
If those already born have rights plenty,
If birth alone can give a person rights,
Why can’t such rights be given to the child,
By making way for birth in the first place?
There is no reason good enough to kill
The life allowed by God within the womb;
The laws in sacred womb are Nature-made!
No earthly law should permeate the womb.
Give freedom to be born to the unborn!
No God of life can watch with patience more,
When man can destroy millions unborn lives!
No tomb can ever yield a single birth!
When save you want a life that’s ebbing fast,
Why hinder lives that yearn to see the light?
He/she who kills within the womb will kill
By habit anyone already born!
The soul without the grace of God could do
More heinous crimes upon the planet earth;
A homicide is taking others’ lives –
Within the womb or without are both crimes!
God spare the lives of millions denied birth!
How can such murders foul give someone mirth?
The unseen tears of unborn kids brings curse;
Their unheard pleas to man will make lives worse!
If man can kill his child before ‘first cry’,
When man can torture children while in womb,
And bring about their death and destruction,
His heart has turned all cold and loveless too!
Denying freedom of God-destined births?
The woman’s womb belongs to her, sans seed!
Once seeded, it belongs to her seed now!
Eugenics is still far-fetched than real!
Life’s values cannot change in womb/ ex womb!
Abortion on demand can’t give the right
To kill a baby that can thrive on own!
Each baby has the right to live like all.
The days are not far-off when world demands
All invalids and elderly to die!
The theories Eugenics speaks are not true
Or proved beyond a doubt or time-tested!
No doctor can afford to use his ken
To abet crimes of sinful men, women!
Most ‘statistics’ are some-how error-prone;
No man can judge the worthiness of life!
The laws outside the womb can’t stifle life
That grows within the womb, awaiting birth!
Allow the unborn child to be born, man;
No man can add an hour to his life-span!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 3-26-2009
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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God, Bless the Womb and Home
Empty not the womb!
Empty not your home;
God fills the womb;
Cradle the unborn too!
A child is love
From God above;
Love all children;
Miss not heaven.
Rock the unborn,
Night and morn;
Say ‘No’ to porn!
Avoid God’s scorn.
Murder in the womb
Empties such a home;
Every child, welcome;
Each Child is love of God
made flesh! .
Let the womb
Remain the home
For humankind,
Not tomb!
God fills your womb;
Joy fills your home!
God, bless each womb;
God bless that home.
Copyright by Dr John Celes 9/11/10
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Abortion is Evil
Baby, are you gonna kill
Your baby in the womb, again?
Baby, can you stay happy,
Walking in this sinful lane?
Your choice, you wanna exercise
Means murder cold-blooded of child;
The guilt, ill-effects of this vice
Can haunt all life and are not mild.
Each child that’s formed is by God’s grace –
A priceless wealth that He bestows;
The womb is made to keep the race,
In proper number, in due course.
Good parenting begins in womb;
Abortion can’t give you mind’s peace;
The sacred womb that turns a tomb,
Can’t help you live your days in ease.
You knew what sex can sometimes bring –
The unborn child’s no life-less mass!
The death-knell for the child you ring –
A curse could befall you, Alas!
So, baby, do not abort, please;
You cannot go against God’s plan;
Accept the unborn child with peace
And God will add your earth’s life-span!
Mothers, must you kill again?
Fathers, must you abet crime?
Don’t hold your unborn with disdain;
Each child brings joy and blessings prime!
God gifts parents, children by lease,
And forms them without big disease;
Take heart and deliver them, please;
God will bless you and give you peace!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 9-21-2009
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Second Birth
Through faith, to God we show true worth
His Lamp then leads to second birth
But not a birth as most presume
We need no more a mother’s womb
The Lord Himself will dwell within
His Holy Flame convicts of sin
The eyes of God compute each thought
In all who trust His true report
With peace and joy He comes from high
The answers to what, to where and why
Power; through grace that none should boast
God’s Guiding Lamp His Holy Ghost
This second chance to live, is free
The price was paid on Calvary
In truth; Christ came to die on earth
That man may live through second birth
Upon the tree Christ bore all shame
That man may bear a brand new name
God’s blood seeped neath the cursed ground
So guilt in man may not be found
In Jesus’ death is Heaven’s door
God opened wide when curtains tore
His precious blood cleans spot and stain
So God may hear from man again
When Christ man laid within the tomb
It served God’s purpose as a womb
When Christ arose from neath the earth
He stood as first with second birth
In Jesus Christ, the same we’ll share
When all life’s cares to Him we bear
When humble hearts see Heaven’s Door
We’ll enter through and die no more...
poem by Michael P. Johnson
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Bible Stories: Job (Chapter III)
And after this, Job cursed his day!
Oh, fie the day I was born live!
I curse the day I turned a boy.
May dark prevail on my birthday!
May never light illumine it!
May gloom afill first day I breathed!
May frightening blackness affright it!
Let obscure be my day of birth;
Let it from year-days be effaced;
Let it from all months disappear;
Let barren be the night I’as born;
Let not a joyful cry greet it!
Let them who curse the sea, curse it
May twilight stars remain all dark!
May daylight never dawn upon,
Because the doors of womb weren’t shut,
To shield my eyes from earth’s troubles!
Why did I not expire in womb?
Why did I not perish at birth?
Why did I ever see the light?
Why was my birth so untimely?
Why was I suckled at the breasts?
Why did my knees help me to stand?
Had I in tranquil state then slept,
I could have rested and not wept,
With mighty beings of the earth,
And ones lucred, right from their birth:
Where weary souls are laid to rest,
And wicked cease to be a pest!
Where all are same- the great and small;
Where freed is servant from master.
Why labored see the endless light?
Why bitter hearts get extra life?
They welcome death but it comes not;
They seek death like hidden treasures,
And exult on finding at last,
And reach the grave, glad in their hearts!
I sigh far easier than my food;
My groans come forth akin water;
What fear I had has come on me;
My troubles seize me so freely;
I have no peace nor ease nor rest.
poem by John Celes
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Mothers Day - To The Mother Of My Three Girls.
They were conceived inside your womb
kept safe within that cosy room.
You held them firm in your embrace
when in this world they showed their face.
They felt so loved and very blessed
when suckled there upon your breast.
You carried them upon your shoulder
and nurtured them as they grew older
laughed their laughter and cried their tears
felt their hurts and kissed away their fears.
Today is your special day
and I would like to say
Thanks for being their mum
and Happy Mothers' day.
From Spirit to Spirit
1
'There are no mistakes. The events we bring upon ourselves, no matter how unpleasant, are necessary in order to learn what we need to learn; whatever steps we take, they're necessary to reach the places we've chosen to go. '
Richard Bach
***************************************** ************************************************* ***
Absolutely correct
Ya wanna know why?
I'll tell ya
Because Earth is a School
Little spirit of mine
Listen now, as I explain
before you leave on your journey
For when you arrive it will be dark
and warm in the womb
of your soon to be Mummy
Your lessons have to be taken
and your graduation too
There are many things you have to experience
to see this school time through
It's going to be a hard course
but with benefits you are blessed
so go now, down to the waiting womb
and do your very best
The more you have to cope with
the stronger you will become
It's all been planned as you know
sing your song as it should be sung
Keep on praising our father
Keep on thanking him for this day
You are going down to earth School
Wipe your tears away
We'll see you soon dear spirit
for now we must wave goodbye
For when you do return to us
you'll have your wings
so you can fly
poem by Janice M Pickett
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God Has Blessed America
God has blessed America
with the ability to choose.
And we lean to our own understanding;
not asking him what to do.
God has blessed America
with landscape’s that will take your breath away.
And we dig-up and cut-down,
and litter everyday.
When God made the earth
He said, “It is good.”
And we’re not taking care of it;
like we know we really should.
God has blessed America
more than we deserve;
With his love and compassion,
His mercies new each day.
God has blessed America
With the babies that he give;
and we abuse and neglect them,
and kill them daily still.
God has Blessed America
Oh how he blessed us so.
We have freedom in our country;
More than other countries will know.
God has blessed America
with oceans blue as the sky;
and we pollute them, killing sea life,
not caring that they die.
God has blessed America
we have freedom of speech;
and we destroy; killing spirits
with the poison that we speak.
God has blessed America
The land we say we love;
But we continue to destroy it,
The land we’re unworthy of.
Copyright © 2010 by-Phyllis Strong
poem by Phyllis Strong
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The Child in the Womb…
The child in the womb longs
To leave the darkness ’round,
And see the light of the world,
Created by God.
The child in the womb yearns
To breathe the lovely air
Of independent life,
Made by God.
The child in the womb wants
To move about with ease,
On planet earth’s terrain,
Meant for it.
The child in the womb waits
To show its cry of life,
And feel its mother’s warmth,
And parents’ love.
The child in the womb loves
To show its beauteous form,
That love of God gave it,
Free of cost!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 2-15-2008
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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