I am pregnant with a pink petite Poem
pulsating in my mind’s womb.
After months of creepy cramps,
countless kicks and
sharp labour pangs of painful paternity
Now the time has come to deliver …
My outstanding offspring!
Should I welcome you?
into this world of atrocities and hatred,
where love is just a four-lettered foul word,
emotions have distorted into frenzied outbursts,
and sweet dreams have turned into creepy nightmares …
I’m not a heartless poet to choke you
to an instant painless death!
No, I can’t strangle my potent poethood
to a genderless abortion…
Soon, you will be pushed out of my bulging belly,
while sweat gathers on my tense brow and
my wet upper lip gleams like a silvery moustache
and you will be born…
your tender pink foot-soles will be slapped,
till your first new born cry echoes in my excited ears!
Oh my precious prized poetry,
Cling to my milk-less hairy breast and
suckle the nectar of love
from the fountain of my fatherly affection,
while I sing a loving lullaby for you!
Though, our unique bond of umbilical cord is severed,
your advent renders a new connotation
to my forlorn lonely life.
So come on, Let’s celebrate!
the birth of my poem…
Copyright ©2008 Bharat B. Trivedi
Greetings and well wishes to your babe sir. Sure he will do wonders.Thanks for sharing
I think every writer thinks of their poems as their children. You sound like a very proud father and quite rightly so. Good use of alliteration and imagery. I particularly enjoyed the opening lines. S :)
When world is ugly it is time you bring out your beautiful baby blessing him to be the eleventh incarnation of the Almighty sathya narayana
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
An exceptional view......'Birth of my poem'......for the poem is indeed a living....breathing....spiritual creation!