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
traumatically.

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

Mother.

~Ashe




Poetry by Ashe The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 364 times
Written on 2016-01-03 at 22:13

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Deeps
Tha places you visit and write about...amazing experience of the journey
2016-01-14


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.
2016-01-06


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.
2016-01-05



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.
2016-01-04


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.
2016-01-04