A Life Pops Out
A life pops out
When the mother is giving birth
Today
And at the same time she is feeling the pain of giving birth
Birth doesn't come without pain
Because pain is the part of giving birth
poem by Aldo Kraas
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Related quotes
A Life Pops Out Song
A life pops out
When the mother is giving birth
Today
And at the same time she is feeling the pain of giving birth
Birth doesn't come without pain
Because pain is the part of giving birth
poem by Aldo Kraas
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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He Was Born In Ussr
He was born in USSR
At the hospital there
At 5: 30 am
And that was the time that his mother gave birth to him
But I remember that she said that giving birth was very hard
And I can say to that
Thanks God that men don't give birth
Because I don't think they would want to go through with it
Knowing that there is pain in giving birth to a baby
But when he was 13 he moved from USSR to United States
So that he could get a god education
And a good job in his life
poem by Aldo Kraas
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Watching the Clouds
Watching the clouds go by
Finally understanding that I don't need to
Everything that makes sense
Doesn't
Anything that is wrong
Is right
With every death
Their is birth
With responsibility
Their is blame
In this world is pain
The one who doesn't know pain
Does not know true love
Happiness
Joy
Sadness
Birth
D eath
Greatness
poem by Sarah matthews
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The Birth of Death
When the grave yard spins
and the demons awaken
you better watch out
your parents dont belive you but you swear you saw a face in the mirror
The devil sets out giving Birth to Death
And names the baby SIN
The smell of stale blood is in the air
Giving Birth To Death
poem by Izzy Barnwell
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Giving In (feat. Adema)
This song is by Linkin Park & Adema
Will you, walk me
To the edge again
Shaking, lonely, and I am drinking again
Woke up tonight and no one's here with me
I'm giving in to you
Take me under
I'm giving in to you
I'm dying tonight
I'm giving in to you
Watch me crumble
I'm giving in to you
I'm crying tonight
I'm giving in to you
Caught up, in life
Losing all my friends
Family has tried, to heal all my addictions
Tragic it seems, to be alone again
I'm giving in ... to you
Take me under
I'm giving in to you
I'm dying tonight
I'm giving in to you
Watch me crumble
I'm giving in to you
I'm crying tonight
I'm giving in to you
I look forward, to dying tonight
Drink till i'm myself, life's harder every day
The stress has got me
I'm giving in
Giving in
Giving in now!
Take me under
(I'm killing all the pain)
I'm dying tonight
(I'm sick of all this faith)
Watch me crumble
(I'm killing all the pain)
I'm crying tonight
I'm giving in to you
Take me under
I'm giving in to you
I'm dying tonight
I'm giving in to you
Take me under
I'm giving in to you
I'm dying tonight
I'm giving in to you
song performed by by Linkin Park
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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It's All About The Feeling Giving
Go get that hot coco cup,
And fill it up to sit and sip...
Since,
It's all about the feeling giving.
As the seasons seem to slip,
To come and go quickly to dip.
It's all about the feeling giving.
To give a 'thanks' is an investment,
To receive and benefit.
'Cause...
It's all about the feeling giving.
Getting gifts to reminisce,
Is only part of it that fits...
'Cause,
It's all about the feeling giving.
Come what may,
Everyday that's over-rated...
It's,
All about the feeling giving.
Those holidays we love to celebrate,
Don't come to stay...
'Cause...
It's all about the feeling giving.
We hope with a faith and pray,
Dedicated...
To give a feeling someone's getting,
Come what may...
It's all about the feeling giving.
Come what may,
It's all about the feeling giving.
Go get that hot coco cup,
And fill it up to sit and sip...
Since,
It's all about the feeling giving.
Sit and sip to reminisce,
Since...
It's all about the feeling giving.
Everyday,
It's all about the feeling giving.
Come what may,
It's all about the feeling giving.
Come what may,
It's all about the feeling giving.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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speaking Of Re-birth!
** SPEAKING OF RE-BIRTH!
Many a time it has been said, that despite my
prayers and fond wishes,
The soul must go through several re-births,
To absolve itself from all debts on this earth!
And those who committed acts of violence,
Must take re-birth to meet such an end!
It is indeed a reassuring and comforting thought,
That crime never goes unpunished in the eyes of
God!
Now what happens to all our courts of laws,
With hanging and life imprisonments galore? !
For the same offence you cannot punish a man
twice!
Do the advocates of ‘re-birth’ listen to such
advice?
Despite whatever has been said in re-birth’s
defense,
I have always prayed for Moksha without giving
offence!
My the Gods make my soul truly free, -
And if the soul must suffer re-birth, -
Well, let it not be me!
-Raj Nandy
03 Jun 09
New Delhi
(Though written in a lighter vein, many a true word
is spoken in a jest!)
My Water Just Broke
Im poetically pregnant, like i keep opening my mouth, giving birth to rhymes, giving birth to metaphors like 'children, who is your daddy? '
i remember making love to OpenMike, a few weeks later, i fell hard for QBase.
One of these two impregnated me.
Love of my life: BassGuitar fully supports my newborn words.
Motherhood couldnt be this better.
#i gotta run, my water just broke.
poem by Opelo Boingotlo Letshwiti
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Take The Pain Away! (january 22 2011)
i sit here away feeling the pain
the pain of losing you
the pain of being alone.
the pain of my heart breaking
the pain of longing for you.
the pain that my pasted has made for me
the pain the razor makes when it slides across my arm to make me get away from the pain inside.
the pain has taken over my life never giving me a min to be happy
please won't you take the pain away please!
poem by juggalette Tiffany ann
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The Hindus' Karma Theory
Soul had no pain without body.
Body has no pain without soul.
Soul, liberated has no pain.
Body, dead, lost senses for pain.
Engine with oil runs the car.
Without oil, the car won't move.
The credit goes to the engine.
Burdon of the fruit goes with soul.
The soul finds an entrance in a birth.
With it come the fruit of the past.
As long as the sin carried over,
The soul enters birth after birth.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Ultimate Sacrifice
A woman giving birth
Replenishes Mother Earth
Mother Nature’s humanity and myriad mirth
Destruction of Life by bombs and war
The universe will always abhor
Annihilation, war’s consummate whore
The stars cry innocent blood galore
Bodies of blood from shore to shore
The death of Life by bombs and war
A woman birthing Life
The Ultimate Sacrifice
Nothin man-made can suffice
The female impetus-the incomprehensible birth-rite
The Ultimate Sacrifice
A Woman giving Life
poem by Josephine DixonBanks
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Eternal Creation
The Parent’s job just doesn’t end at giving birth to the child; but to irrefutably ensure that the infant was nourished with their breath and blood till the time it could unflinchingly fend for its symbiotic survival; was what the Almighty Creator had eternally created them for,
The Sun’s job just doesn’t end at giving birth to light; but to irrefutably ensure that the rays optimistically enlightened even the most infinitesimally lugubrious cranny of remorsefully cloistered earth; was what the Almighty Creator had eternally created it for,
The Rose’s job just doesn’t end at giving birth to fragrance; but to irrefutably ensure that the majestic resplendence ebulliently blossomed into the lives of countless haplessly beleaguered and bereaved; was what the Almighty Creator had eternally created it for,
The Peak’s job just doesn’t end at giving birth to victory; but to irrefutably ensure that the royal triumph peerlessly massacred even the most ethereal iota of devilishness form this Universe; was what the Almighty Creator had eternally created it for,
Nature’s job just doesn’t end at giving birth to newness; but to irrefutably ensure that the evolution metamorphosed every bit of egregiously stagnating ghoulishness into a sky of rhapsodic freshness; was what the Almighty Creator had eternally created it for,
The Cloud’s job just doesn’t end at giving birth to rain; but to irrefutably ensure that the water stupendously ignited vivaciously iridescent life in every ingredient of hopelessly dying soil; was what the Almighty Creator had eternally created it for,
The Conscience’s job just doesn’t end at giving birth to truth; but to irrefutably ensure that the righteousness insuperably conquered every trace of diabolical lies on earth and the atmosphere; was what the Almighty Creator had eternally created it for,
The Ocean’s job just doesn’t end at giving birth to salt; but to irrefutably ensure that the tanginess wonderfully illuminated every treacherously spiceles and deliriously lackadaisical moment of life; was what the Almighty Creator had eternally created it for,
The Poet’s job just doesn’t end at giving birth to fantasy; but to irrefutably ensure that the dream spellbindingly impregnates the winds of Omnipotent romance into monotonously monstrous robots; was what the Almighty Creator had eternally created him for,
The Lip’s job just doesn’t end at giving birth to smiles; but to irrefutably ensure that the happiness altruistically perpetually perpetuates into every dwelling incarcerated in chains of murderous gloom; was what the Almighty Creator had eternally created it for,
The Rainbow’s job just doesn’t end at giving birth to vividness; but to irrefutably ensure that the color timelessly enshrouded every gruesomely befriended orphan; miserably deteriorating on the globe; was what the Almighty Creator had eternally created it for,
The Shadow’s job just doesn’t end at giving birth to tranquility; but to irrefutably ensure that the peacefulness granted celestial reprieve to every bizarrely estranged soul squandering on this Universe; was what the Almighty Creator had eternally created it for,
The philanthropist’s job just doesn’t end at giving birth to unity; but to irrefutably ensure that the oneness miraculously coalesced every spuriously staggering and cold-bloodedly fighting caste; creed and tribe into the unassailable religion of humanity; was what the Almighty Creator had eternally created him for,
The wind’s job just doesn’t end at giving birth to freedom; but to irrefutably ensure that the liberation unequivocally freed every element of torturously enslaved earth till times immemorial; was what the Almighty Creator had created it for,
The night’s job just doesn’t end at giving birth to sensuality; but to irrefutably ensure that the passion brilliantly transformed every speck of infertility into the chapters of everlastingly Omniscient procreation; was what the Almighty Creator had created it for,
The eyelash’s job just doesn’t end at giving birth to flirtation; but to irrefutably ensure that the mischief serenely catapulted every fretfully frenetic organism into realms of impeccable childhood; was what the Almighty Creator had created it for,
The soldiers job just doesn’t end at giving birth to martyrdom; but to irrefutably ensure that the valor to timelessly serve the mothersoil; throbbed fearlessly in every chest; even centuries after his veritable death; was what the Almighty Creator had created him for,
The breath’s job just doesn’t end at giving birth to life; but to irrefutably ensure that the exultation inexhaustibly transcended over; even the most inane anecdote of baseless corruption and demeaning death; was what the Almighty Creator had created it for,
And the heart’s job just doesn’t end at giving birth to Love; but to irrefutably ensure that the compassionate togetherness tirelessly bonded the entire planet into a paradise of Omnipresently unshakable strength; was what the Almighty Creator had created it for…
©copyright-2004, by nikhil parekh. All rights reserved.
poem by Nikhil Parekh
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Dark Cloud
All the pain rains down on me
Like a summer shower
I can't seem to rid this dark cloud
That hangs over me
I guess all the pain was meant for me
Just when I thought the showers had stopped
And I was pain free
More pain just poured down on me
Feels like the dark cloud I will forever have
Pain is just a part of me and I can't rid it
No matter how many times I try
Pain is just strong and I'm just too weak to fight it
All the pain pours down on me
And I still wonder why
I still ask God why
Everything I do doesn't seem like its good enough
I'm so tired of trying when it does no good
Pain was just a part of me at birth
And forever and always I guess I will have it
I just wonder when will be the end
Will I drown in the pain or will I survive
March 3.2009
poem by Espn Chick
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Evolution
A cow generates milk for its calf.
A cowherd milks it for other than calves.
Sexual pleasure is for giving birth.
Sex is now promoted for no child birth.
28.02.2010
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Ode to Rebirth - Cross Century Surgery Operation
voila! if rebirth is a fact and
time travel is mastered
you can always request
at the cross century
surgery theatre, your first human birth
eyes, second birth eyebrows
fifth birth nose, cheeks,
eighth birth shoulder blade, and
the fusion of fifth and eight birth sexes
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Part Of Life, That is
Few get to sit in the midst of it.
Part of life that is.
With the giving of opinion and the giving of lip.
Part of life that is.
Few get to sit in the midst of it.
Part of life that is.
With the giving of opinion and the giving of lip.
Part of life that is.
Stuck with sticking emotions felt in my gut...
Unable to abandon them.
Or give them up...
Had been a place I'd been,
Back then.
With no one but myself...
And faith,
To help me slowly break away...
Of a hold I had on them to mend.
Few get to sit in the midst of it.
Part of life that is.
With the giving of opinion and the giving of lip.
Part of life that is.
I have learned to feel grief deeply,
Where it is felt.
Let it visit.
And then from it to leave!
Not to forget the process...
But to breathe!
Remembering...
With an agony upon my letting go,
Knowing what I felt was painful...
It was also,
Part of life!
A part of life,
That is!
Few get to sit in the midst of it.
Part of life that is.
With the giving of opinion and the giving of lip.
Part of life that is.
Few get to sit in the midst of it.
Part of life that is.
With the giving of opinion and the giving of lip.
Part of life that is.
Few get to sit in the midst of it.
Part of life that is.
With the giving of opinion and the giving of lip.
Part of life that is.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Birth Energy
I am opening
I am opening up
Birth energy
Be my teacher
Birth energy
Heal my fears
Teach me trust
Teach me compassion
Walk me into the darkness
And into your light
Birth energy
You are woman
Birth energy
Within the man
Ever constant
Ever changing
Let your winds blow
Rock me in your storm
Let the bough break
Let me fall
Into your arms
It is you I trust
When I say
Im trusting love
Invocation:
I stand among the sisters of the moon
I am held by the creator of the world
I am opening
I am unbounded
I am luminous
I am powerful
I surrender to this power
Life and newness are continued and
Renewed through me
You are the ocean
I ride upon your waves
I am opening
I am blown apart by your caress
I surrender to you
I embrace you
I am ready now to sing the moon
To be her voice
I am the singer
And life is her song
I sing creation
I sing joy and pain
Beginning and ending
Giving and taking
Existence
Goddess
I embrace you
I am opening
I am opening up
song performed by by Kenny Loggins
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Unravelled
I miscarry a lust for life
a passion for the unknown
a will to experience and observe the most sublime and horrid of things
I miscarry another world
I cannot give birth to in this prison I was locked up in.
I miscarry a pain for the human
difficult to bear, hard to confess
the pain of a child born in poverty
the pain of a man working overnight
the pain of a woman blocked inside her routine.
I miscarry the most delicate of pains
I cannot give birth to because they sound so absurd.
I miscarry a ravishing artist
all outraged and covered in blood and feathers
that pours herself on a blank piece of paper
trying to translate complicated and alluring thoughts
into heartfelt and pointless words
I miscarry an infected sensivity
I cannot give birth to in a atrocious reality.
poem by Eva Grotesque
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Macho Mans Dog
Macho man once had a dog.
A very nice dog.
That dog found another dog.
That dog got pregnant.
It was a horrible day
That dog gave birth to ten unborn puppies.
That dog died while giving birth.
Macho man got arrested for having sex with a dog in a dog costume.
poem by Richmoo Silverstein
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Women And Poems
With as much pain as a human being becomes a woman,
That much pain makes a woman a poet.
A word takes a long year to be made,
a poem an entire life.
When woman becomes a poet, she is totally a woman.
Then she is mature enough to give birth from her suffering heart,
Then she knows how to care for a word.
You have to be a woman first if you want to give birth to a poem.
A word without any pain is fragile, breaks when touched.
Who knows more than a woman all the lanes and alleys of pain!
poem by Taslima Nasrin
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