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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Related quotes
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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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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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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
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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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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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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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O Infant Just Out Of Womb..!
O infant just out of womb
What are your thoughts
Of this world?
Who makes you to smile?
What your plans are for today
Or for morrows?
Why this cry at birth?
Did not like to exit cosy comfort of
Mother's womb?
Ever faulty are our guesses
Of your cries and smiles.
O god grant me
The power to read
The language of infants!
poem by Sundaram Chandrakalaadhar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Room For The Life
Hey there, you lady in tears,
Do you think that they care if theyre real, woman?
They just take it as part of the deal.
Lost in your men and the games you play.
Trying to prove that youre better, woman.
But you neednt get heavy with them.
Like it or not, we were built tough,
Because were woman.
No, we never die for long,
While weve got that little life
To live for, where its hid inside.
No, we never die for long,
Oh! woman, two in one,
Theres room for a life in your womb, woman,
Inside of you can be two, woman,
Theres room for a life in your womb, woman,
Mama woman, aha!
Night after night in the quiet house,
Plaiting her hair by the fire, woman,
With no lover to free her desire,
How long do you think she can stick it out?
How long do you think before shell go out, woman?
Hey! get up on your feet and go get it, now.
Like it or not, we keep bouncing back,
Because were woman.
No, we never die for long,
While weve got that little life
To live for, where its hid inside.
Oh! woman, two in one,
Theres room for a life in your womb, woman,
Inside of you can be two, woman,
Theres room for a life in your womb, woman,
Mama woman, aha!
A-mama-woma-mama-woman-aha!
A-mama-woma-mama-woman-aha!
Oh, mama-woman, two-in-a-one, aha!
Oh, two in one, aha!
Oh, woman! woman! woman! woman!
Theres room for a life in your womb!
Theres room for a life in your womb!
Two in one, aha!
Two in one! two in one! two in one!
Room for a life in your womb.
song performed by by Kate Bush
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Abortion- Heaven gone amiss?
God gave women a pelvic bag,
‘The uterus’ or Womb!
And tethered it well, not to sag-
To rear children aplomb;
The growth of fetus should not lag,
And turn the womb, its tomb!
And neither should one abort it,
Thinking it is unfit!
The God of life gave some creatures,
The uterus or womb;
He gives the ‘seed’ life, and nurtures,
Some make the womb, a tomb!
No God of life can accept fault
Of a sinful human soul;
Most babies ought to pass the vault:
To be born- their one goal.
Some bring the babe out by ‘Caesar, ’
-a cut in uterus:
On dates and times, in their leisure,
Sans labor-pains or fuss!
Some others kill the unborn child,
Because they don’t want it;
Will rod of God for them be mild,
Or will it be ‘Fire-pit’?
‘Abortion is sure murder foul’-
No one dare deny this;
All god-believers surely scowl
For, Heaven’s gone amiss?
Can not the modern man, woman
Just understand this truth?
None can escape the Maker’s pan:
‘He’ll take a tooth for tooth! ’
Copyright by Dr John Celes 4-9-2008
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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To Unborn Son And Daughter
Love not the son less
But he loved the son
Not to be born and burned
In the turbulence
And pathos and chaos
Of the barren earthly bond.
He loved to sleep
With his unborn son
He loved to talk and play
With the yet not born son
As none could enslave
As none could persecute
As none could chain
His yet to be born son!
She loved her daughter
To be in the womb
And not to advance
From embryo to fetus
As she never longed
Her daughter to fly
Like a butterfly
Loitering the flowery garden!
She talked to her daughter
Whose tickling heart
In the womb stuttered
And yearned for a lullaby
To sleep in dreams!
Her humming of lullaby
Was like a wailing
That made her daughter
Lose the sleep and the balm!
She faced the vultures
With shocking flutter of wings
That hook her daughter
In its sharp nails!
She talked to her
Not born daughter
Not to take birth
As birth is burden
And an unending ordeal!
He and she decided
To perish the love flowering
And to part to embrace
The pain of love broken
For not to father a son!
For not to mother a daughter!
poem by Vadakkumpurath Ramesan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Abortion
If mother kills her child in womb,
And this is not a sin or crime,
Why shouldn’t one kill others by bomb,
Or murder innocents each time?
The ‘seed’ implant in utero,
Is precious life, allowed by God,
And has all rights to live, be born
And see the world that God has made!
When homicide per se is crime,
Attracting punishment on earth,
How much more is infanticide
And abortion of unborn child?
What mother is she who would kill
Her unborn child, while still in womb-
An act against Almighty’s Will,
And turn the place of birth, a tomb?
No God of love will allow this
Great sin by modern Adams, Eves;
For, God is fair to all creatures-
Beast or man, big or small, with soul!
You shall not kill a human being
For, murder is a mortal sin,
Inviting mighty wrath of God-
Eternal Damnation, the rod!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 1-11-2008
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Just listening to my beats
She hadn’t given me birth from her womb; but could
still irrefutably gauge the profound sadness
enshrouding my countenance; by just ethereally
glimpsing at my shielding eyelashes,
She hadn’t given me birth from her womb; but could
still irrefutably prognosticate the hunger in my
stomach; by just sighting me restlessly gnawing at my
bohemian nails,
She hadn’t given me birth from her womb; but could
still irrefutably sense the maniacal desperation in my
trembling visage; by just the infinitesimally changed
tone; in the nimble cadence of my voice,
She hadn’t given me birth from her womb; but could
still irrefutably comprehend the wave of bizarre
mortification enveloping my soul; by just the
capricious tinge of poignant scarlet; on my
impoverished cheeks,
She hadn’t given me birth from her womb; but could
still irrefutably narrate the experiences of my day;
by just feeling the transiently cringed lines; on my
diminutively frazzled forehead,
She hadn’t given me birth from her womb; but could
still irrefutably guess the thunderbolts of tumultuous
anger encapsulating my blood; by just witnessing that
inconspicuous iota of frantic vacillation in my
dwindling stride,
She hadn’t given me birth from her womb; but could
still irrefutably feel the insatiably nostalgic child
in me; by just gently caressing my innocuously
vivacious lips,
She hadn’t given me birth from her womb; but could
still irrefutably soliloquize the first day of my
birth; by just kissing my rampantly fluttering and
daintily gorgeous eyelashes,
She hadn’t given me birth from her womb; but could
still irrefutably understand the diabolically
obsessive agony in my life; by just sighting the
augmented redness in the interiors of my palm; and
withering body skin,
She hadn’t give me birth from her womb; but could
still irrefutably analyze the state of intriguingly
inexplicable mind; by just staring for mock seconds;
at the ludicrously staggering curvature of my spine,
She hadn’t given me birth from her womb; but could
still irrefutably construe the vibrant philosopher
entrenching my senses from all sides; by just inhaling
the scent that drifted; from my profusely wandering
countenance,
She hadn’t given me birth from her womb; but could
still irrefutably conceive the insurmountable
reservoir of fantasy circulating in my blood; by just
kneading my pulse a minuscule trifle,
She hadn’t given me birth from her womb; but could
still irrefutably perceive the tumultuous electricity
in my compassionate visage; by just the poignant
magnetism that radiated on every step that I gently
tread,
She hadn’t given me birth from her womb; but could
still irrefutably apprehend the unfathomable carpet of
dreams in my eyes; by just witnessing the
resplendently shimmering twinkle that lay; therein,
She hadn’t given me birth from her womb; but could
still irrefutably assimilate the unrelenting euphoria
in each element of my persona; by just tracing the
tiny globules of sweat; that ran down my chest,
She hadn’t given me birth from her womb; but could
still irrefutably discern the ardent believer in my
body; by just witnessing the resiliently unflinching
contours of my chin,
She hadn’t given me birth from her womb; but could
still irrefutably grasp the artist fulminating
inexorably in my ecstatic veins; by just feeling the
astronomical propensity in my fireballs of passionate
breath,
She hadn’t given me birth from her womb; but could
still irrefutably realize my uncontrollably escalating
desire; by just cuddling the fantastically zealous
moistness; which engulfed every trajectory of my
flesh,
And she hadn’t given me birth from her womb; but could
still irrefutably define my immortal love for her
divinely grace; by just listening to the marvelously
impregnable beats of my small; but perpetually craving
heart…..
poem by Nikhil Parekh
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Hideaway
i dream back of the past, where the womb i stay, is nothing
but a place where i can be in a day.......
moving out is not but a dream that everybody is busy, looking
something that everybody couldn't see......
my thought is humble to think that, in the shelves i use to play is
but a womb's mother i usually think that it is easy to be free....
i always ask even if it takes lust, all the memory is gone, only
the bad things is fun....
all it seems, it is fine and everything is with me, knowing i made
it for that day, wandering for every joy would leads me to make
me happy.....
i have stand on my own, i know where i go, believing that i am a
little god, great as it could be, never i hold to the womb iam
fold.....
innocent as a child, all day long i wait to the mother breast i suck,
to the milk iam glad, leaving behind the pain i my hands
let the hideaway may come in my dreams i stand, may you always be
in my mother womb i stay..... for only in my mother's womb.... i
could be free
poem by Antonio Liao
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Don’t Take My Life, My Dear Mother!
Don’t take my life,
My dear mother!
For heaven’s sake,
Please let me live!
Don’t take my life;
Give me a chance;
I’ve life like you;
I want to live.
Don’t take my life;
God’s love made me;
God talks to me,
And calls my name!
Don’t take my life;
The womb’s my home;
God feeds me well
And helps me grow.
Don’t take my life;
I yearn to live,
And see the world
That God has made.
Don’t take my life;
Do charity;
I’ll repay back
Your act of love.
Don’t take my life,
I want some love
From my parents;
So, spare me please!
Don’t take my life;
Do spare my frame;
The clay is baked;
It’s time for birth!
Don’t take my life
God has allowed;
I want to see
His lovely world.
Don’t take my life;
I’ll pay you well,
When I grow big,
And you turn old!
Don’t take my life,
My dear mother;
God will bless you
And too, father!
Don’t take my life,
Dear dad and mum;
Don’t turn the womb
Into my tomb!
Don’t take my life,
For God’s sake please;
My dear parents,
‘LET ME BE BORN! ’
Copyright by Dr John Celes 5-9-2009
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Rethink on Abortions
The time has come for all to think-
A babe in womb is also life;
No one with conscience would dare kill,
Nor dismember a life with skill.
Do we all eat to vomit food?
Do we all drink to bring it out?
Why let a ‘seed’ grow in the womb,
And pare the ‘seedling’ fully grown?
O noble souls that heal all wounds!
You took your oath to save all lives;
Let conscience dictate all your ways;
Let not your hand cut string of life!
Life is most sacred when human;
You should not kill for merely fun;
When you can’t make one human part,
Why kill a human babe with art?
Should mankind turn a killer-race?
Should doctors serve, abetting crime?
No law can suppress one’s conscience,
That tells you what is right or wrong.
The unborn baby in the womb
Is also life, like me and you;
Why make its place of birth, a tomb?
The God of life won’t forgive you.
Copyright by Dr John Celes 4-24-2008
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Some Claim We Were Born Alone
some claim we were born alone
but was there not a heartbeat heard
as we grew within a mother’s womb
a placenta provided oxygen food
nourishment fed through umbilical cord
shadow post birth after us expelled
a hand took us cleaned us cut cord
totally dependent helpless we received
a heart fed us loved us meet our need
we were cared for we grew lived
to prosper all life is time given nourished
all life that endured love received
there was a time when we were not alone
each moment of growth was a heartbeat heard
those who give foster love in a world womb
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Embryonic Homicide
Life is same, no matter young or old;
Life is precious, more than silver, gold;
Life isn’t commodity that is sold;
Life’s from God, not from this nasty world!
Alike is life in children and adults;
Alike is life ‘in utero’, ‘ex womb’;
Alike is life of born and that unborn;
All human lives are equal before God.
All human beings are in God’s semblance;
Each body gets a soul that everlasts;
The love of God is shown to all creatures;
The Life-Giver alone can take back life!
The Embryo has life that’s God-destined;
The Embryo was formed by love of God;
The Embryo must grow by divine Word;
The Embryo has soul like anyone!
Why kill the embryo for its small parts?
Why destroy one life to save another?
Why treat the embryo with great disdain?
Why murder lives in womb for sake of born?
The embryo is healthy, not diseased;
The embryo is living, not deceased;
The embryo is child, awaiting birth;
The embryo is human too and worth!
No beast kills babies that are still unborn;
The world demands kindness to animals;
Why not protect the human lives unborn?
Preserve the dignity of life in womb!
Could God watch human lives desecrated?
Would God spare merciless human beings?
The embryonic life is life as well;
All ruthless murderers shall land in hell!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 3-9-2009
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Lust less is listless
Lust is born with the embryo
With-in the mother’s womb,
To grow with it as basic instincts.
Conscience is born with the birth of psycho
With-out the mother’s womb,
To grow as many-fold ethics.
Lust strives to quench the thirst
For food, water and, most the sex,
Never ending till the last.
Conscience strides to uphold Ego,
With search for love, name and safety,
Often putting down the Lust.
When fed, Lust brings cheer.
When fed, Ethic quells fear.
Who dares, gets cheer.
Too much under the sway of Ethic
One ends up one’s life sans cheer;
Suppressed is the Lust.
Lust, when maimed or chopped,
Its root is never cut, nor dead.
Rather it deranges or spearheads.
Which is why Lust sneaks out its head,
When thwarted, to get fed
And breeds cheers behind the door.
Erotic pleasure has no equals.
Forgo it not, by being ethical.
22.05.99
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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