birth

How Did I Get Here?

How did I get Here,

Here in this Atmosphere,

Here on this Bed

Here under this Roof?

 

Did I arrive like the nursery rhyme said,

Dropped off by a bird? No that's just a ruse,

Because then I'd have big luscious angel wings

Besides, last time I flied I acquired a bruise.

 

Or if not a bird, then by car?

That can't be, I conclude no matter how I ponder,

For does a man-made vehicle keep me alive

Or give me this personality of which I call 'TSUNDERE'?

 

I was conceived from my mother's own womb,

At least that's what the clipboards say.

Even so, is that the explanation of why I am

Still here, in one piece, sound of heart and not yet gray?

 

Although this question of how I am here still puzzles and pricks,

I'll worry no longer, it's pointless to do so.

All I need to know is I am alive and useful

I am here, ready to grow.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Tsundere means to act tough and unlikeable on the outside but is actually very sweet and lovey dovey on the inside. :)

Redemption

Folder: 
Nature / Folder 1

Most births I have watched,
Tiny bundles of love,
Arms outstretched,
Symbolic of our ability to give,
To receive love in the world,
And to fully live,
Etched with Divine Intelligence,
To embrace this world in eager anticipation,
The waiting is over, as the soul guides us
On the journey
Down the womb of it's choosing
We come to join the human race
With an open heart,
A mind thirsty for nourishment, the synapses begin to connect
As we are held closely
To the warmth of human touch,
The first part of the voyage is complete,
The exploration has begun,
With all that we need for what is to come,
Whether born into hunger,
Or a belly with nutrition,
All the soul askes will ensue to fruition,
Time nonexistent, pain has no meaning,
Til the weight of this material world
Becomes an albatross,
Senses blurred and hearts aching,
Burthen with demands to adapt to conditioning,
And what we call growing, begins to lose meaning,
Rips us away from the soul, 
Renders us incognizant of it's deeming,
But the tapestry is laid and course is now planned,
There is no turning back, not a one is unmanned,
A still voice within, so quiet and meek,
It requires your heart to reveal it's mystique,

 

Love and nature have the answers to all that you crave,
Reconnect with your soul, and together, this Earth we will save.

 

 

4:26 PM 4/23/2013 ©

Author's Notes/Comments: 

The soul and the world. Regaining balance from man's demands for material greed.

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Amma

Folder: 
Nature / Folder 1

And so, thinking
About what
It was like,
You know,
In the womb…

Well, it was dark.

But the dark was okay,
It was nice.
And it was warm,
But I don’t think I knew that,
But it was nice, too.

And well, then,
I began to
Experience sound.

It was different
Than it is now,
But very nice.

I felt it more
Than I heard it.

I spun around,
And the feeling
Was nice.
Then-

It happened.

I was experiencing
Something….

LOUD,

RAUCOUS,

COLD,

The sounds
Were offensive,
The sound of metal
Against metal,
And whooshing sounds
And choking,
Gasping,
Noises, noises,
What’s happening?
My eyes!

And then,
Wrapped,
Tightly,
Snuggly….

Then I hear
another sound.

That sound…
I know

That sound….

I am this sound…

Copyright 2012

Author's Notes/Comments: 

This is a poem about human gestation and birth.

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Mind Takes Root in Solace

To go against it would be jumping through clouds,

With no way to see what awaits to break the fall.

To embrace it would be to ride stallions across wildfire,

Leaving behind a trail of ashes,
All that was known sinks to the depth of time.

 

Tears could clear a path to solace,

No way to stop this horse from running,

Taking me to where the earth meets the stars,

Finding my place in foreign lands,

Speaking a tongue from your native language,

So alien to me, though it breaks the silence.

 

A barrier placed through icy walls,

Skin becomes tougher as it is frozen.

Skipped heartbeats take me closer,

To find myself back where I started,

A journey with no pursuit or direction,

Knowledge grows fruit on the tree of wisdom.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Moving forward, getting older... some things are valued when learned, some things always seem too late

Yidhra

Folder: 
Cthulhu Mythos

The most Ancient Gods,

Prototypes of all the Gods,

Worshiped before humanity;

And all came from one source.

The source is called Mlandoth,

All Gods are manifestations of Him.

 

Ngyr-Khorath, the mad and monstrous thing

Whom haunts this region of space

Before the solar system was formed,

Is a local eddy of Mlandoth's Race.

 

Yidhra, who was born with the life of Earth

Intertwining with all Earthly life-forms,

Teaches reverence for Mlandoth.

Before death was born, She was born;

For untold ages there was life without death,

Life without birth, life unchanging.

 

But at last death came; birth came;

Life became mortal and mutable,

And thereafter fathers died,

Sons were born, and never the same.

 

The slime became the worm

And the worm the serpent,

The serpent the yeti of the mountains

And the yeti became man.

 

Only She escaped death,

Escaped birth.

But She could not escape change,

For all things will change;

The trees of the North must shed their leaves.

 

She learned to devour the mortal creatures;

From their seed to change Herself,

And to be as all mortal things,

Living forever without birth, without death.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

A poem about the Cthulhu Mythos Deity Yidhra.

The Invisible Stranger

The Invisible Stranger

A stranger has been sharing my bed
A stranger whose face I can’t see, nor can he see me
He hears me. I speak to him. But I hesitate
She moves/he moves, not to copy, but out of necessity
She says: sing to the stranger, which is odd (most ladies wouldn’t welcome a stranger in their bed) Yet I sing. But I hesitate.
…this stranger will soon be very familiar.
Familial familiarity.
And suddenly…
…I don’t hesitate. I can’t wait to welcome the stranger. Excited that soon, 9 months after appearing invisible in my bed, there will be nothing strange about him.

Time & Dreams

Folder: 
Just For Fun

Time
A realm which holds space, matter, life
A giant force that controls everything
The death of nations
The birth of children
The ageing and growing of life
The erosion of the earth
The degradation of society
The reaper of souls
And the house of love, life, youth, and happiness

The only thing that time cannot touch, is dreams
Dreams are time in no time at all
In a dream you can live a lifetime, to wake in 10 minutes
Or live just a moment, to wake up years later
Dreams are emotions
They are desires
They are our will manifested as we want it to be
They are when we play God
They are windows to timelessness
Dreams are where we see the past
Where we clarify the present
And even, where we glimpse the future
Gateways to eternity
Mirrors of our psyches
Doorway to the world

Sweet Dreams

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Obsolete by design

Day and night, the machines operated; convincing other machines through programs once created by their own creators, to give birth to the bio-mechanical sons and daughters who now inherited the earth. Man programed his own demise; extinction by design.

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Pallid Son

 


 Winds of change blow every day;

whirling gusts fashion horizon’s hues

Flaming colors tinge the dusking light;

tranquil luster lends sun’s setting views

 

Shadows whisper with wavered speech;

careening in silence as breezes sigh

Darkness follows with amber’s wane;

blackened velvet shrouds the sky

 

Kingdom of Heaven looking down;

slumbering children begin to rise

Twinkling specks of distant lights,

awakened slowly - the angelic eyes

 

Sapphires emit shimmering blue,

pallid son for twilight - called the moon

Clustered jewels blinking in the night,

less grains sparkle on a desert’s dune

 

Timely count of eternal sands,

numerous as ages for the land

Knowledge of unknown sums,

a trickle to the creation planned

 

Shining stars from high above,

infinite numbers of flickering show

Dustings across the vast universe,

changing winds rise - but never blow

 

Beneath the showers of endless glint,

eternal spirits born to Heaven’s might

Sifted sands through loving hands,

molds the children in God’s own light

 

Immortal souls from breath and dust,

each grain taken from celestial dunes

All destined to become - soft angelic eyes,

outshining a pallid son called the moon

 

© C.E. Vance

 

Author's Notes/Comments: 

As I see.

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