That Time Before

The dream is green
and I am fetus
clinging to your emerald bones
clovered to you

in that time, that time before.

The last free place:
verdant, rich.
the shining pelvis bone
to which I cling.

I flare at your waist,
unwilling to live outside:

My first bit of real intelligence.

A forceped birth
In the year of our weariness
taking the tongs

How the scene now stubbornly
asserts itself again and again.
The patient etherized:



Poetry by Ashe The PoetBay support member heart!
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Written on 2016-01-03 at 22:13

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Tha places you visit and write about...amazing experience of the journey

Jamsbo Rockda The PoetBay support member heart!
How beautiful yet gruesome birth is. I know that english is not your first language yet I am amazed at how you manage to wonderfully wield words like "verdant" and terms like "emerald bones" so skillfully. When I see pieces like this I want to give up on poetry. They say some people can remember their birth, and maybe even further back. This is wonderful.

Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
I really like this, Ashe. Here we are at the very beginning, the forceps a warning of the horrors to come. You received a mixed blessing, it seems. The life itself was no picnic, but it's great material from which to make poems.

I'm sorry but that first stanza just makes me angry. The imagery seems too forced. Clashes with the rest of the poem which is pretty nice especially the ending.

one trick pony The PoetBay support member heart!
yours was a prescient vision, an elysium field in the before-life, greener pastures before there was green, a piercing arrival.