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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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
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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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My Mom, The One Who Never Gave Up!
Anybody can give birth but it takes someone with as much integrity and hope, someone with as caring a heart and the amount of strength in which you have shown through out your life to be a real awsome and good enough mother to bring up beautiful girls of which you gave birth to and many other children in which you did not give birth! we thank you soooooooooo much mom and i gauruntee you that god smiles when he turns pages in the book of life and sees only you on one of the pages this page being titled 'The One mother who never gave up! '
poem by Sarah Stetler
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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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Life passes through, not being born.
The flowers think they gave birth to seeds,
The shoots, they gave birth to the flowers,
And the plants, they gave birth to the shoots,
So do the seeds they gave birth to plants.
You think you gave birth to the child.
None thinks they are only entrances
For the life force that passes through.
A life is not born, it passes through.
04.01.2003
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Life passes........
The flowers think they gave birth to seeds,
The shoots, they gave birth to the flowers,
And the plants, they gave birth to the shoots,
So do the seeds they gave birth to plants.
You think you gave birth to the child.
None thinks they are only entrances
For the life force that passes through.
A life is not born, it passes through.
poem by Anees Akbar
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Death and Birth
Death leads to birth rather than birth, to death.
Birth is close to death and not vice versa.
Every birth is at the result of a death.
Death to birth, not birth to death, is the path.
The death of clay is the birth of a pot;
The death of the pot is the birth of clay.
Ice melts to water and water forms ice.
In each conversion, occur death and birth.
The death of a night is the birth of a day;
The death of a day is the birth of a night.
New Year means the death of the old year too.
In each transition, takes place death and birth.
The death of a seed is the birth of a plant;
The death of gametes is the birth of an embryo.
Salts die to form cells; cells die to form salts.
In each growth, form death and birth of matter.
The so called death and birth is nothing but
Deaths and births of forms made of matter.
The matter itself does not die to be born
But is converted to different forms.
Elements disappear to form plants.
Plants as food add to the animals’ flesh.
Plants and animals on death liberate
As elements, serving through worms and germs.
When a child is born, there’s no birth of life.
The embryo transforms into a child.
When a man dies, there is no death of life.
The body disintegrates to salts.
Matter, energy and life have no death
They have got one birth since when they’ve been.
They interact and come different stages
In which the pattern is death and birth.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Born Knowing
a rare few
are born
knowing
knowing
pre-birth
meeting
memories
of before
birth born
life spent
remembering
knowledge
reality
purpose
pre-birth
life line live
remembering
purpose timing
poem by Terence George Craddock
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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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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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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!)
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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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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Born Under A Star
Do you remember the story, of the Bethlehem Star
There in that land long ago, and so very far
I know it is hard for us to see
To fathom or even believe
But do you remember, that day, there at Gethsemane
There at that place, for you and even me
Oh...Ohoo... And then, there again, at Calvary
There his life, for me and even thee
Now can we understand about that shining bright light
That glorious birth, for us to remember, for ever that night
Now you know why, His birth under a star
Our Saviour sacrificed, gave us everything, from that land afar
The Prince of Peace, taught how to love
Remember, to forgive, and how to pray, to Father above
His promised love
Has broken the chains, that surround our hearts
Love and tears and then floods, began to start
Washing, burning relif, for our souls
His promised love, made us completely whole
His promised love, has carried us just so far
Giving us love, and everything, even yet
Born in a manger, under that star
poem by Clyde Bryson
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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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Born On Earth
How many have you given birth,
Mother earth, Mother earth?
Bore them here to drink your rain,
bore them here to feel your pain?
You cannot count them though you try,
not until you feel them die.
One by one they came to you
and one by one they left your view.
They plowed your fields and reaped your seed
and ate of you to fill their need.
Some were kind and pure of heart,
some foolhardy from the start.
How many came and breathed your air
and offered thanks and gave you prayer?
Did you keep a record of each brave soul
or just use yourself to cover the hole
that waits and observes their destiny
and accepts their bodies with sympathy?
How many more will you give birth
to stake their claim upon your earth?
Too many, too many I'm afraid
and for most a terrible price will be paid.
How many have you given birth
Mother earth, Mother earth?
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Fighting Death
Death follows birth; does birth follow birth?
Birth to death, journeys have ups and down.
What is the status between death and birth?
Why must you fight death if no-rebirth is bliss?
(15.03.2011)
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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On Pedigree. From Epicharmus
My mother! if thou love me, name no more
My noble birth! Sounding at every breath
My noble birth, thou kill'st me. Thither fly,
As to their only refuge, all from whom
Nature withholds all good besides; they boast
Their noble birth, conduct us to the tombs
Of their forefathers, and, from age to age
Ascending, trumpet their illustrious race:
But whom hast thou beheld, or canst thou name,
Derived from no forefathers? Such a man
Lives not; for how could such be born at all?
And, if it chance that, native of a land
Far distant, or in infancy deprived
Of all his kindred, one, who cannot trace
His origin, exist, why deem him sprung
From baser ancestry than theirs who can?
My mother! he whom nature at his birth
Endow'd with virtuous qualities, although
An Æthiop and a slave, is nobly born.
poem by William Cowper
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Happy b day
Happy birthday Triauna
Today is a great day
The day my girl was born
Monumental occasion
Sound the horn
New born child cute as a button
Dem other babies culdnt say nuffin Literally the truth is all I say
Throughout the years
You made each and every day
Thats just who you are and how you roll Always warm heart never cold
As you open your gifts
Just remember this
Your birth day only comes once a year Every day feel like my birth day because I know you here
The gift you give is priceless
Yet every day the value increases
Second most important born right after Jesus
Brings me back to my thesis
Happy birth day Triauna
poem by Martin McCollugh
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Back In The Ussr
Flew in from miami beach b.o.a.c., didnt get to bed last night
On the way the paper bag was on my knee, man I had a dreadful flight
Im back in the ussr, you dont know how lucky you are boy
Back in the ussr
Been away so long I hardly new the place, gee its good to be back home
Leave it til tomorrow to unpack my case, honey disconnect the phone
Im back in the ussr, you dont know how lucky you are boy
Back in us, back in the us, back in the ussr
Well, the ukraine girls really knock me out, they leave the west behind
And moscow girls make me sing and shout
That georgias always on my mi-mi-mi-mi-mind
(solo)
Im back in the ussr, you dont know how lucky you are boy
Back in us, back in the us, back in the ussr
Well, the ukraine girls really knock me out, they leave the west behind
And moscow girls make me sing and shout
That georgias always on my mi-mi-mi-mi-mind
Show me round your snow peaked mountains way down south
Take me to your daddys car
Let me hear your balalaikas ringing out, come and keep your comrade warm
Im back in the ussr, you dont know how lucky you are boy
Back in the ussr
song performed by by Paul McCartney
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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