Baby Poems
Christmas Is Really For The Children
by Steve Turner
Christmas is really
for the children.
Especially for children
who like animals, stables,
stars and babies wrapped
in swaddling clothes.
Then there are wise men,
kings in fine robes,
humble shepherds and a
hint of rich perfume.
......
Go Down, Death
by James Weldon Johnson
Weep not, weep not,
She is not dead;
She's resting in the bosom of Jesus.
Heart-broken husband--weep no more;
Grief-stricken son--weep no more;
Left-lonesome daughter --weep no more;
She only just gone home.
Day before yesterday morning,
God was looking down from his great, high heaven,
......
Nature Trail
by Benjamin Zephaniah
At the bottom of my garden
There's a hedgehog and a frog
And a lot of creepy-crawlies
Living underneath a log,
There's a baby daddy long legs
And an easy-going snail
And a family of woodlice,
All are on my nature trail.
There are caterpillars waiting
......
Let It Enfold You
by Charles Bukowski
Either peace or happiness,
let it enfold you
when I was a young man
I felt these things were
dumb, unsophisticated.
I had bad blood, a twisted
mind, a precarious
upbringing.
......
A Library Of Skulls
by Thomas LuxShelves and stacks and shelves of skulls, a Dewey Decimal number inked on each unfurrowed forehead. Here's a skull who, before he lost his fleshy parts and lower bones, once walked beside a river (we're in the poetry section now) his head full of love and loneliness; and this smaller skull, in the sociology stacks, smiling (they're all smiling)it's been empty a hundred years. That slot across the temple? An ax blow that fractured her here. Look at this one from the children's shelves, a baby, his fontanel a screaming mouth and this time no teeth, no smile. Here's a few (history)a murderer, and this onesee how close their eye sockets!a thief, and here's a rack of torturers' skulls beneath which a longer row of the tortured, and look: generals' row, their epaulets on the shelves to each side of them. Shelves and shelves, stacks stacked on top of stacks, floor above floor, this towering high-rise library of skulls, not another bone in the place and just now the squeak of a wheel on a cart piled high with skulls on their way back to shelves while in the next aisle a cart filling with those about to be loaned to the tall, broken-hearted man waiting at the desk, his library card face down before him.
Continue readingChristmas Poems by Michael R. Burch
by Michael R. Burch
These are Christmas poems by Michael R. Burch. Some are darker Christmas poems and heretical Christmas poems.
The First Christmas
by Michael R. Burch
’Twas in a land so long ago . . .
the lambs lay blanketed in snow
and little children everywhere
sat and watched warm embers glow
and dreamed (of what, we do not know).
......
Change of Scenery
by Frangipani Rhett
Note: This one is sad for me... Anyways. Let me know if you like it. Thanks.
Why are you going?
His little voice said
I didn't know how to answer
The question I so dread
I don't know why I'm going
I don't want to leave
Told my little boy it was time
......
Alo*
by Nkwachukwu Ogbuagu
I was born on Afo†, just any other naked day,
At the time the moon had increased the effulgence of
Her supreme light.
And from thence, I have owned only one property.
It is so old and delicate; subtle.
Smells like birth, so soft and fresh,
Though I am yet to set my eyes on it.
It’s long lost . . .
It blinks at sunrise from beneath the earth
And relegates the winds to the backyard of storms.
......
Postnatal Depression
by Ganiu Talabi
Postnatal depression is real
And this is how I feel
Sad, lonely, depressed, withdrawn,
No enjoyment and emotionally worn
I have no bond with my baby, none at all,
My emotions bounce about like a ping-pong ball.
My maternal instincts are very fleeting
A now-you-see-it, now-you-don’t type of thing.
But surprisingly the pregnancy gave me joy
More so when the sonographer said “It’s a boy!”
......
New little brother
by Author Reinvented
Mother's there, her eyes are bright,
Papa's beaming by her side,
And in her arms, a bright delight
Baby brother, little bro.
A picture hanging on the wall
Band-Aids plastered after a fall,
Mother's there to cure it all,
And baby brother, little bro
......
