The Baby
by
Jack Curson
(Age: 32)
copyright 03-09-2005
Age Rating: 10 to 127
Quiet beauty of an angels face lies in slumber.
Alas, This peacefulness will not last,
A little monster awakes to feast.
Bellowing cries of impatient calling echo
Through the dream world of his servants’ minds.
Half coherent and staggering these prisoners of
Servitude tumble down a battlefield created by this
Creature’s love of destruction.
Fits of sleep depravation haunt the souls of these stead fast soldiers,
Willing to battle the rage of insomnia to quench this bellowing beasts hunger.
Transformed in a Jekyl and Hyde fashion back into a beloved angel,
Cuddled in the arms of his life long protectors.
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i remember the first few month although i got admit dariens still a bit like that now days hence him being in my bed asleep now....he doesn't cry he just climbs out of bed and squashes up in ours.... but u hit home and i understand perfectly...but at the end of the day... or in the morning.... ¬¬ its ok its worth it they're so much more joy
I have not one clue what babies are like. However, I just found out today I am having a child. So,once I give birth, I'll come back with a better comment. You write beautifully!!! Excellent write.
Boy do I know what you're saying here. I have a four year old and twins that are eighteen months behind her. All Girls so you know how needy they are. I loved the word usage in this, It truly describes everything I couldn't have put in a nice way.
many sleepless nights aye Jack, hehe, I know the feeling, good job, great write, I had to read this several times and not get interrupted to catch on to what you were saying, I love it, thank you
I have never heard or seen the subject of midnight feedings described so poetically or as accurately. "Prisoners of servitude" is a fitting term for parents as is "life long protectors". Your poem was well written and full of wonderful imagery...thanks for this unique perspective.
I love this poem with multiple readings. It took me some time to put together the wonderful imagery and metaphor.
Check out my haiku, "Baby" in the workshop.
Children, God knows we love them. They take us to the limits and they bring us to our knees. There are surly times we would like to run away, but then they smile at you and all is forgotten except love. Great poem Jack. Thanks, Anthony
Yes, I remember those days, although now somewhat faintly in the distant past.
A couple critiques: line two: I know you are trying to make it sound poetic, but the second line seems written backwards, thus taking my mind off the poetic feel of the poem. Perhaps: "Alas, this peacefulness will not last"
Should not the last word in line four be 'echoes'?
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