# April Challenge - "Umbilical Cord"



## Baron (Apr 17, 2012)

The theme for the April challenge, suggested by JDegg, is *"Umbilical Cord".

*Remember that you may approach the subject in whatever way you wish, though of course site rules apply. If you are unsure of the challenge rules please read the 'stickies' at the top of the board, it is disheartening to disqualify people for things like a trivial edit, but the rules will be applied.
*
*This challenge will close on the *1st May 2012. 
**
**Please make sure that your work is properly formatted before pressing the submit button. Work edited after posting may be excluded from the challenge. Do not post comments in this thread. Any discussions should be posted in the Bards' Bistro.**


*


----------



## toddm (Apr 17, 2012)

*Alexey Leonov*

Cosmonaut buoyant
in the womb of space,
caressed by darkness
and warm solar kisses,
tethered to his _Voskhod_,
the most attentive of mothers,
while the luminous world below
throbs with life and awaits,
with gentle and open arms,
the newborn child.


----------



## lcg (Apr 18, 2012)

*Dream*

*Dream*


I wish
to seek new mists,
to scout those skies beyond.
But the reality will never respond.
As I am leashed by this cord of birth,
caste, color and creed my curse.
Still stifling my screams,
I dream.


----------



## Chesters Daughter (Apr 18, 2012)

*Mom Will Eventually Be Unearthed*

Booties, bottles and buntings
went the way of the wooly mammoth.
Lullabies left behind,
replaced by serenades 
of forced and foul rhyme,
while flesh of little boy faces
and little girl legs
traded smooth for stubble
and online became 
the monopoly of all time.
All in the blink of an eye.

Rusty trikes, musty jigsaws,
and Barbies with bad haircuts;
a plethora of prehistoric relics
reluctantly thrown in a dumpster
by gnarled hands ravaged by time's hands.
Now when exactly did that happen?
Perhaps during a prolonged wink.

Tenors are now baritones,
save for Thomas, 
who flits to and fro 
like a hummingbird from flower to flower
in the space of a single sentence.
Girlish giggles are now monthly moans.
Must have happened while I rested my eyes.

Once I had the stature of a giant,
now I'm a dwarf
conversing with sternums.
Words unheard by egotistical geniuses
intent on their glorified agendas
and obsessed with electronic excess.
My, how the crops have sprouted,
but in which spring, I can't recall.
Should have never donned those blinders;
someone's flipped the hourglass too fast.
They grow, I shrink.
The passage of years defines them
and renders me obsolete,
or at least so they think.

Hours drag
like the shuffle of a centenarian
since I've been deemed
an ancient artifact,
(no Wii for me)
slowly being buried
by oblivious grains
with each turn of the glass.
Oh so many moments to mull,
waiting with eyes wide open.

It'll be shovels all around this Christmas.
They'll come in handy
when the know-it-alls finally see,
Google searches aren't always successful
and the sage they need
can't be found in a spice rack.

Then they'll make their way back,
shovels slung over shoulders
and making mad grasps hand over hand
on the never severed cord
far fresher than my aged flesh

and I'll be waiting
with arms wide open.


----------



## Boddaert (Apr 19, 2012)

*Commencement*

Life slip-sliding through
networks of thin finery
starts adventures
that change such safe environs
warmth and darkness - light and noise


----------



## Bachelorette (Apr 19, 2012)

your eyes tempt me but
your sex taunts me with
knowledge that you are
forever safe from the rope,
the noose that hangs in me
and strangles my sex until
it becomes something else:
fear, of a baby deformed
in the head, just like me.


----------



## Camden (Apr 21, 2012)

Cut, life
Smack, breath
Swath, reunion
Joy, fear
Sooth, sleep
Nurture, grow
Clothe, walk
Teach, learn
Comfort, sad
Guide, rebel
Love, reject
Warn, continue
Alone, free
Wait, pursue 
Worry, oblivious
Contact, abrupt
Confused, depressed
Pray, return
Joy, begrudged
Guide, listen
Support, endeavor 
Pride, success
Serene, happy
Grandma, Father
Cut, life
Smack, breath


----------



## DouglasMB (Apr 23, 2012)

Tied to the past...

 Dusty roads and crop laden fields…
  Play on like movies on old time reels…

  Crackled images flash in a blur through each scene…
  though I am the only one watching the old worn out screen…

  This old has house trigging something anew…
  Dug up emotions fitting like a glove or an old worn shoe…

  So many things tie me to this place and time…
  A taste… a smell… and old nursery rhyme…

  All this I think of while drifting to sleep in that old Ford…
  Like being attached to the past by an umbilical cord…

  Giving my memories life... sustenance to the past…
  Keeping each thought fresh and raw... making it last…


----------



## LoneWolf (Apr 24, 2012)

inseparable. warm nights
giggles and delicious secrets
seconds fly, pregnant with memories
deftly folded notes
floating through hallways

not twins, a common mistake
inside jokes and swift promises 
but time's cold breath
sends chills through the warmth
slowly freezes - 

-shatters.
slivers of doubt
and layers of pain
slowly slice through the sinew
only two strangers remain


----------



## vangoghsear (Apr 25, 2012)

The cord is tied,

  not a knot, but a bow,

  that’s pulled and tugged

  till freed to go.



  Then floats away,

  the lightened heir,

  to land out

  on its own somewhere.


----------



## candid petunia (Apr 26, 2012)

*Cord-less*


The cord that connected us was cut
after birth, but in essence we are still
linked.


Now as I tie the knot, you sever the cord,
for real,
while my soul flails,
tell me how is it fair
that he has his intact 
(until his death)
and mine isn't?​






[FONT=times, serif]




[/FONT]

​


----------

