teachings of a womb
in the womb
I remember being cross-eyed
and claustrophobic
as milk formed
in the breasts I would never call mine.
but look upon this
as a gift,
a carnation without color
to do with as you please.
will I be
the fruitful moon or the potato
deep within the earth,
it was not up to me
but the great mind of Picasso
acting as god
to how I would form
and to whom
I would belong.
like a great circus
with swans and pigeons alike
which set of wings
will cover me
when I am but minutes old
and passed along
as a secret
or the genetic predisposition
of cancer.
in the womb
I called upon the tiny eggs
to splice my soul,
to take my place
as a centerpiece of the body
yet none were willing;
at the time
seeming so selfish.
so I grew
into a shoebox
eventually to be filled
with bits of ribbon and crinkled photographs,
turning each and every way
wrapping the cord
around my neck
to avoid little poisons
the bitch would adorn
beneath her tongue.
nine months
in the womb
born with four minutes to spare
I breathed the air
of anesthetics, my head wobbling
like a fat egg standing on end.
then I tried to pry
my eyelids open
as if they were buckets of paint
but
like the beginning of all
I was oblivious.
maybe it was the blood
that made the room
so warm,
maybe it was the secret
shared between two mysteries
that peered through
the glass
each sobbing
for that day I became
their baby boy,
their Michael, their Jacob
rid of the death witch
whose stomach once loomed
like a bulb
with no light.
now I bathe in satisfaction and fortune,
thanking the bell
that rang in my frequency;
today I drink the wine
in their honor
knowing I will carry this name
like a birthmark
to my irrevocable grave
Author notes
t h e a t l a n t i c
adoption, i know all i need to know.
A contest entry
- make the most of all the sadness. by aanika.
6000 points, ended September 27, 12 entries
Gold trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
critiques are always nice
Comments
1 - 28 of 28
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holy shit.
you deserve your gold.
this is the best thing i have ever read on allpoetry. ever.
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this is incredible. i love your voice and the unusual topic subject.
i'd like you to know that i read everything you write and the only reason i never comment is because i'm too intimidated to try to express my awe at your talent.
thank you so much for entering.
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oh, i meant to mention these lines because i think they are extraordinary:
"then I tried to pry
my eyelids open
as if they were buckets of paint" -
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i do not know how the fuck you contiue to do this.
i feel like i haven't read poetry in a long time and you just showed me why i should continue to do so.
the second verse was my favourite, filled with perfect lines and perfect imagery. i liked how raw the third verse was, such vivid images.
i don't really think i can anything else.
well done you <3
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you are wonderful
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no you are wonderful!
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whoa. that was intense. and what a killer ending! (ironic word choice i suppose...lol)
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thanks tyler how are things?
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I agree with the comment hereunder. I am hoping that telling you I've read this five times might suffice? I feel like a dick head though - because writing of your quality deserves endless praise and some sort of ritual dance and a few shots of something hard.
Seriously, thank fuck you're back *breathes a sigh of relief*
This is amazing. ALL OF IT. Encorrrrrre
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babe you are tooooo kind
i'm glad to be back and happy to see that you're still here! beautiful as ever
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i have been sitting here for three minutes trying to figure out what the fuck i'm going to say.
fucking thank you. i had almost forgotten why i love poetry, i think.
personally though, i would've expanded on your ideas in the last stanza to give it a little more closure.
but oh my fucking god.
i feel like even giving this a compliment would be belittling to what you've created.
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this is of the highest compliments, i am e-blushing
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i second what he says.
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I always hate commenting on your work, because I always turn into a rambling idiot whenever I try... so I'm just going to say:
"but look upon this
as a gift,
a carnation without color
to do with as you please."
That is probably one of the greatest things I've read on this site. Reminds me very much of Chuck Palahniuk for some reason.
This deserves a trophy.
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eeeeeeeeee thanks you thank you, and you never sound like a rambling idiot to me. i ppreciate all the feedback, i really do
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this is incredible, but i don't expect any less from you.
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spanks boo
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born with four minutes to spare
-that should be remembered.
you should, i don't know, gather the earth and throw it into that line.
incredible poem.
fucking incredible.
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thank you boobop, how are you?
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Flucking brilliant! Never have I read a poem about a subject I could not relate to, and felt every damn word. Never. Until now. I wouldn't change anything. You are so unique, and I am always assured a great read.
I have an aunt that I only met a few years ago. She would have been my Grandmother's 7th out of 9. She gave her up for adoption, because back then, that is what you did when you got pregnant out of wedlock. My aunt is a great lady, but try as I might I will never understand how she feels. The hardest part for her is knowing that after she was given away, my Grandma had two more kids, and kept them.
My Grandma raised me, even. I could never understand the woman they all make her out to have been while they were growing up. That isn't the woman I knew. She recently passed, on August 12. The whole family made my 'adopted' aunt feel so foriegn, and left out. I thought it was terrible. I have called her many times since, just to let her vent. The only woman who had the answers she has always wanted is gone, and she will not ever have her answers. I feel she has a right to grieve just like the rest of us. She didn't ask for the cards she was dealt.
I think it is great that you know all you need to know, and are comfortable with that. I think you are with the parents you are destined to be with. That is partly because I do not believe in coincidence. Not at all. Perhaps, you have a job to fulfill in your lifetime, and you needed to be where you are to do so.
Sorry to ramble. Your stuff just always seems to strike a cord with me.
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honestly i couldn't have put it better myself, i am complacent. and i really feel for you aunt; it's amazing that you are so open to her and her feelings. i'm sure she appreciates it immensely. such a sweet thing, honestly. and yes, i do believe things are fated. it's why i wouldn't choose to be anywhere else
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"I remember being cross-eyed
and claustrophobic"
Oh man. Those are cool adjectives in such close proximity ... are fetuses just unattractive OR WHAT. You are unique ... just, when you choose which words you want to write in your head, the thoughts you're expressing ... it probably resembles a rocking chair ON ACID. Not like an ordinary plebeian struggling not to be cliché, which you never are.
"it was not up to me"
I just praised you using "do not" instead of "don't" over Facebook, but I think in this instance, "it wasn't up to me" would sound better in contracted form.
This is when you know you have to face-palm me for inconsistency, but it's just my preference.
"or the genetic predisposition
of cancer."
GAH.
SO GOOD HERE.
It sounds ominous, foreboding, and just plain damn good.
Stanzas that end with 'cancer' are just awesome (er, the unhealthy kind of awesome).
Great use of 'oblivious', fo shooo.
Only you could've written those last 2 lines. They REEK of JP (in a good way)
;
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cherry cobbler anyone?
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You never cease to amaze me.
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thank you how are you m'love
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Oh wow! So brilliant and powerful! This is poetry that MOVES the reader.
It was really quite scathing in tone and remarkable in imagery. I have never read anything so descriptive about birth, and it was fascinating to read. It was as if I were experiencing it as I read it. For the first time in my life I felt sad that I could not remember the moments of my birth - how it felt to be expelled form the warm world of the womb into the cold reality of life.
Truly intense and interesting write. I thoroughly enjoyed it.
I had a boyfriend once who was adopted. We were eighteen years old and his birth mother was trying to start contact with him. She sent him letters explaining how she'd given him up because she was a drug addict and wanted a better life for him. He was glad she had, because he had such loving adoptive parents and a good life. However, the truth isn't that she just wanted to give him a better life. The truth is that she didnt' want to give up her lifestyle for him.
She did drugs while she was pregnant too and it caused him to have issues with his lungs and be severely underweight.
So he refused to have contact with her and I was proud of his decision.
I'm proud of you for standing up for yourself, too. Do what feels right for you.
Great write!
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thank you so much! i was in a very very similar situation to the one that your former boyfriend was in, so i can empathize. just makes me realize everyday that things happen for a reason, even if we may not know what that reason is in the moment.
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