There were thousands of tests, and more doctors than they could keep straight. The accents made it difficult. They never knew so many fertility specialists came from India and China.
A barren womb , a curse , an end of a blood line. Never to know the tug of an infant at your breast. To be considered as less than a true woman. That was my reality each and every day of life.
His body was so empty. The barren look in his beautiful eyes hurt me. His hands were still so soft and reassuring, but when he kissed me, it never felt right.
Looking out across the barren land it was hard to conceive that it had once been a lush valley filled with the best crop imaginable. That was however before the great fire of 1992,
before the attack! if only we could turn back the hands of time.
The womb is ready to receive those millions of tadpole-shaped speedy seeds, hoping for one of them to enter the glorious delight, to create a magnificent creature nature had so far invented, but hope turn into disappointment, when millions of sperms can’t find a single precious egg in sight, inside the barren tortuous fallopian tube.
Barren
the empty land
black rocks
our car driving
racing fast
towards your antiquated city
here we are
here we are
we can never come back
soak it in, breathe it all in
tell me you want me to come back
your hands my lips
you pull me towards you
the rocks crumble
the train whistle sounds
I saw him weep then. And, strangely, it was one of the most beautiful things I’ve witnessed.
He shed not a tear, and at first glance it would seem that his face was barren and void of emotion. But that was not true.
He seemed to crumple in on himself as he collapsed against the wall. All the pain and grief was reflected in his eyes. In that moment, his soul carried the grief of a lifetime.
But as he placed his head in his hands, his shoulders stayed strong and broad, not heaving with sobs. And after a moment, he stood again, collected himself and walked the other way.
The land was barren and dry. We looked out as far as we could, but there was nothing. Only the remnants of sparkling mirages to draw us un, draw us closer. This was awful. We were utterly and completely lost, in the middle of a desert. The passageway which had brought us here had just collapsed behind us, and we trudged on.
you cannot have children. this is my worst fear. to be barren. but it could mean other things as well… dead. uninspired. not producing anything. not having anything to give. to be cold. to be empty. its is unfortunate and if you find yourself approaching this, its time to get moving.
Antarica was a freezing wasteland. Nothing was there. The beauty of it was magnificent. The cold wind blew across the land. It washed the snow in every direction. The light of the sun flittered through the ice. It was cold and barren.
the desert was a barren waste land of nothing except for the lone coyote and the prickly cactus. One day it didn’t rain because they clouds no longer came to the desert. The coyote went up to the cactus for a small relief from the sun and the heat.
I see an empty place. It hasn’t always been like this. It used to be busy, alive with the hustle and bustle of people. Real, living people. But now this city belongs to ghosts. Torn memories and dusty photos. Old words written on older paper.
I’ve left him, alone and barren.
Will he forgive me?
What am I to do next?
It’s best if he is pushed away
To save himself from my life of pain
Maybe one day I can live up to my shame
Hope he understands, I’m the one to blame.
I bet he regrets he ever came
Will he see, things can’t be the same?
Days run together, it feels like rain
Things always change but it remains the same.
A hole in my soul, hidden from view. It was there long before the doctors decided to probe. Somewhere in the back of my mind, a long long time ago – before puberty, before my first time- I knew. I just didn’t know how deep the hole was, until I grew older.
Like the mighty desert surrounding her, she felt barren. Dry. Lifeless. Dead. With no water there to console her.
She clutched her stomach as dribbles of tears rolled down her face. What was wrong with her?
The wastleland was barren. That is a trite, redundant thing to say. Everything else was barren as well. The houses, towns, the people, the hope. It had all left us.
When people think “barren,” they immediately draw their imaginations toward a wasteland. When we think “wasteland,” we think of a vast, empty space where nothing lives and nothing has enough energy to actually die. We view it as a desert, or a tundra, with nothing but a faint, warm breeze blowing dust into our eyes as we pass the no man’s zone.
But I live in a Wasteland. And it is far different than you would ever predict.
wasteland like a desert with cacti with those big pretty flowers and little owls poking their heads out and a butte in the distance. the sun over head beating down upon you.
everything is as bare as ice.
this is frightening without a fight.
put down a weapon
and pick up the gun.
shoot the highest sky.
then hope you can run.
away from the stars.
dont be behind bars.
away from the night.
that comes out to fight.
There was a time in my life when I was too poor to produce much of anything.
If a friend gave me flowers they were dead within the week.
If a lover gave me love I massacred it within the night.
My soil was a waste land where only the rotting carcasses of past lives gathered to be remembered- before God condemned them to purgatory.
My productivity only lasted as long as the coke on my mirror and that never lasted longer than 20 minutes.
My wild ideas and antics were so creative until the bottle became less and less full.
My soul was too poor to even produce an answer from God when my cuts were the loudest my voice could travel.
Even God knows when to cast out the barren woman who has lost all fertility of life.
From Dreaming to Drinking to Dropping on my knees in a dirty jail cell time and time again-
My story is the story of thousands before me, the thousands that will follow, and the millions of tears my soul had to shed to finally give life to this soil.
“Barren… Barren… Barren…” she thought out loud
“No, it doesn’t ring any bells”.
James looked disappointed, and watched Mary walk away and into the mist.
what is this i don’t even get what does barren mean i don’t bah english is not even my native language I mean I should know this stuff with this is just outreageous mah I don’t know how to write that word either fuck my life I better go live somewhere else
ellos barren lamentablemente por la asociación ilimitada de las veredas internacionales que me escapan interminablemente. Hasta la vista, compadre. Que tenga buen día y mucha suerte. Esas malditas escobas no van a bailar solas toda la tarde, ¿o sí? Tardan en caer
Raw and red and hurting
Never enough
Mouths asking for more
I have nothing left to give
My mother
With her empty wallet
And apologetic eyes
Assures me of better times ahead
Times where our clothes won’t reek
And be so lacking
And our stomachs will no longer scream at us.
If hunger doesn’t kill me
I’m afraid that the nagging depression
Just might.
The land was barren where the pilot landed, after ejecting from his fighter plane mid-combat. “What now,” he thought. Head pounding, with heat radiating from the desert.
She was barren and it was the best news she had ever received. It was a long life and she had goals and ambitions. Things that having a child would mess up. It was the 21st century and she had another life planned for herself. This was not bad news. This was music to her ears and she was happy.
It’s funny how life can throw you something as simple as a word to make you realize what it is you’re truly scared of. It reminds you that you’re human and life isn’t always easy, nor is it hard. I think at times you just need to be alone with your thoughts in order to regroup and sort of just check in to make sure you are happy with the path you’re on. Doing this quarterly or semi-annual check up is important because if you don’t then how will you ever allow yourself the opportunity to change the path you are on? Sometimes it the idea of something that makes you want whatever it is you want but when you give it some more thought, you are able to weigh out the good and bad that comes along with it; and some things you need to be one lap ahead of the race, otherwise you could end up in a situation where the choice is no longer yours. Regardless, you always have the choice to be happy and it is all up to you to make that choice.
the snow didn’t make the field look any more barren than anything else.
it was barren like her womb after the operation empty empty barren there’s nothing to be done with an empty belly. she didn’t like it any more than the field covered in snow in the winter time.
“What?” he whispered, unable to believe it. Unwilling to believe that, after all his work, this was what was going to come of it.
“The doctor.” she said, and seemed to be fighting to get the words out, “The doctor said I must be barren. He said we mustn’t try… any longer. He said seven miscarriages is too many.”
barren. my relationship. barren. ha! worse than barren. one lie can hurt so much and leave my heart so empty. scraped dry. no amount of alcohol will rehydrate it. i’m done. over. dead. barren.
a barren wasteland by the corner of my eye,
a beautiful spring weather by the other,
i glance upon the deserted location,
and saw a figure crying as my eyes looked further
i ignored the beautiful spring and walked to the desert
because i couldn’t leave that distant child alone
i could not bear to see another soul be torn
I have no idea what barren means. It reminds me of a wasteland, some place dirty and destroyed, abandoned and perplexed. Yes. that could be it, that makes sense right now.
The barren wasteland streatched before the Arctic explorer for as far as the eye could see. He had been lost our here for months, and his provisions were running very, very low. His dogs were long dead, and his parka had been worn down by the wind and snow into a useless sack. But somehow, he persevered. He was determined to find out how.
There were thousands of tests, and more doctors than they could keep straight. The accents made it difficult. They never knew so many fertility specialists came from India and China.
A barren womb , a curse , an end of a blood line. Never to know the tug of an infant at your breast. To be considered as less than a true woman. That was my reality each and every day of life.
His body was so empty. The barren look in his beautiful eyes hurt me. His hands were still so soft and reassuring, but when he kissed me, it never felt right.
Looking out across the barren land it was hard to conceive that it had once been a lush valley filled with the best crop imaginable. That was however before the great fire of 1992,
before the attack! if only we could turn back the hands of time.
The womb is ready to receive those millions of tadpole-shaped speedy seeds, hoping for one of them to enter the glorious delight, to create a magnificent creature nature had so far invented, but hope turn into disappointment, when millions of sperms can’t find a single precious egg in sight, inside the barren tortuous fallopian tube.
Barren
the empty land
black rocks
our car driving
racing fast
towards your antiquated city
here we are
here we are
we can never come back
soak it in, breathe it all in
tell me you want me to come back
your hands my lips
you pull me towards you
the rocks crumble
the train whistle sounds
the barren desert and wind stripped sandy slopes revealed the hidden trails to treasures untold. my barren heart, always on my sleeve.
I saw him weep then. And, strangely, it was one of the most beautiful things I’ve witnessed.
He shed not a tear, and at first glance it would seem that his face was barren and void of emotion. But that was not true.
He seemed to crumple in on himself as he collapsed against the wall. All the pain and grief was reflected in his eyes. In that moment, his soul carried the grief of a lifetime.
But as he placed his head in his hands, his shoulders stayed strong and broad, not heaving with sobs. And after a moment, he stood again, collected himself and walked the other way.
The land was barren and dry. We looked out as far as we could, but there was nothing. Only the remnants of sparkling mirages to draw us un, draw us closer. This was awful. We were utterly and completely lost, in the middle of a desert. The passageway which had brought us here had just collapsed behind us, and we trudged on.
you cannot have children. this is my worst fear. to be barren. but it could mean other things as well… dead. uninspired. not producing anything. not having anything to give. to be cold. to be empty. its is unfortunate and if you find yourself approaching this, its time to get moving.
Antarica was a freezing wasteland. Nothing was there. The beauty of it was magnificent. The cold wind blew across the land. It washed the snow in every direction. The light of the sun flittered through the ice. It was cold and barren.
the desert was a barren waste land of nothing except for the lone coyote and the prickly cactus. One day it didn’t rain because they clouds no longer came to the desert. The coyote went up to the cactus for a small relief from the sun and the heat.
A desert lies barren because there is no water, just like a heart lies barren because there is no love.
I see an empty place. It hasn’t always been like this. It used to be busy, alive with the hustle and bustle of people. Real, living people. But now this city belongs to ghosts. Torn memories and dusty photos. Old words written on older paper.
I’ve left him, alone and barren.
Will he forgive me?
What am I to do next?
It’s best if he is pushed away
To save himself from my life of pain
Maybe one day I can live up to my shame
Hope he understands, I’m the one to blame.
I bet he regrets he ever came
Will he see, things can’t be the same?
Days run together, it feels like rain
Things always change but it remains the same.
A hole in my soul, hidden from view. It was there long before the doctors decided to probe. Somewhere in the back of my mind, a long long time ago – before puberty, before my first time- I knew. I just didn’t know how deep the hole was, until I grew older.
Like the mighty desert surrounding her, she felt barren. Dry. Lifeless. Dead. With no water there to console her.
She clutched her stomach as dribbles of tears rolled down her face. What was wrong with her?
I worry about the people who live in a barren
those who don’t have anough to feed their children or themselves, who have to fight for scraps of food.
Barren… flat fields, empty wombs, despair. Terrible waste. Sadness and furniture.
I wish this on no one. I personally don’t want children but I feel this could empty a life. Privilege is a special thing.
The wastleland was barren. That is a trite, redundant thing to say. Everything else was barren as well. The houses, towns, the people, the hope. It had all left us.
When people think “barren,” they immediately draw their imaginations toward a wasteland. When we think “wasteland,” we think of a vast, empty space where nothing lives and nothing has enough energy to actually die. We view it as a desert, or a tundra, with nothing but a faint, warm breeze blowing dust into our eyes as we pass the no man’s zone.
But I live in a Wasteland. And it is far different than you would ever predict.
wasteland like a desert with cacti with those big pretty flowers and little owls poking their heads out and a butte in the distance. the sun over head beating down upon you.
everything is as bare as ice.
this is frightening without a fight.
put down a weapon
and pick up the gun.
shoot the highest sky.
then hope you can run.
away from the stars.
dont be behind bars.
away from the night.
that comes out to fight.
There was a time in my life when I was too poor to produce much of anything.
If a friend gave me flowers they were dead within the week.
If a lover gave me love I massacred it within the night.
My soil was a waste land where only the rotting carcasses of past lives gathered to be remembered- before God condemned them to purgatory.
My productivity only lasted as long as the coke on my mirror and that never lasted longer than 20 minutes.
My wild ideas and antics were so creative until the bottle became less and less full.
My soul was too poor to even produce an answer from God when my cuts were the loudest my voice could travel.
Even God knows when to cast out the barren woman who has lost all fertility of life.
From Dreaming to Drinking to Dropping on my knees in a dirty jail cell time and time again-
My story is the story of thousands before me, the thousands that will follow, and the millions of tears my soul had to shed to finally give life to this soil.
The barren wasteland stretched out before us. There was no clear end in sight. But there was nowhere to go except forward.
“Barren… Barren… Barren…” she thought out loud
“No, it doesn’t ring any bells”.
James looked disappointed, and watched Mary walk away and into the mist.
what is this i don’t even get what does barren mean i don’t bah english is not even my native language I mean I should know this stuff with this is just outreageous mah I don’t know how to write that word either fuck my life I better go live somewhere else
ellos barren lamentablemente por la asociación ilimitada de las veredas internacionales que me escapan interminablemente. Hasta la vista, compadre. Que tenga buen día y mucha suerte. Esas malditas escobas no van a bailar solas toda la tarde, ¿o sí? Tardan en caer
Raw and red and hurting
Never enough
Mouths asking for more
I have nothing left to give
My mother
With her empty wallet
And apologetic eyes
Assures me of better times ahead
Times where our clothes won’t reek
And be so lacking
And our stomachs will no longer scream at us.
If hunger doesn’t kill me
I’m afraid that the nagging depression
Just might.
In the barren darkness of love, comes forgiveness, anger, and forgiveness.
The land was barren where the pilot landed, after ejecting from his fighter plane mid-combat. “What now,” he thought. Head pounding, with heat radiating from the desert.
She was barren and it was the best news she had ever received. It was a long life and she had goals and ambitions. Things that having a child would mess up. It was the 21st century and she had another life planned for herself. This was not bad news. This was music to her ears and she was happy.
It’s funny how life can throw you something as simple as a word to make you realize what it is you’re truly scared of. It reminds you that you’re human and life isn’t always easy, nor is it hard. I think at times you just need to be alone with your thoughts in order to regroup and sort of just check in to make sure you are happy with the path you’re on. Doing this quarterly or semi-annual check up is important because if you don’t then how will you ever allow yourself the opportunity to change the path you are on? Sometimes it the idea of something that makes you want whatever it is you want but when you give it some more thought, you are able to weigh out the good and bad that comes along with it; and some things you need to be one lap ahead of the race, otherwise you could end up in a situation where the choice is no longer yours. Regardless, you always have the choice to be happy and it is all up to you to make that choice.
the snow didn’t make the field look any more barren than anything else.
it was barren like her womb after the operation empty empty barren there’s nothing to be done with an empty belly. she didn’t like it any more than the field covered in snow in the winter time.
He stared at her.
She stared at him.
“What?” he whispered, unable to believe it. Unwilling to believe that, after all his work, this was what was going to come of it.
“The doctor.” she said, and seemed to be fighting to get the words out, “The doctor said I must be barren. He said we mustn’t try… any longer. He said seven miscarriages is too many.”
“Seven.” he said, “Barren.” he said,
“Yes.” said his wife.
barren. my relationship. barren. ha! worse than barren. one lie can hurt so much and leave my heart so empty. scraped dry. no amount of alcohol will rehydrate it. i’m done. over. dead. barren.
a barren wasteland by the corner of my eye,
a beautiful spring weather by the other,
i glance upon the deserted location,
and saw a figure crying as my eyes looked further
i ignored the beautiful spring and walked to the desert
because i couldn’t leave that distant child alone
i could not bear to see another soul be torn
I have no idea what barren means. It reminds me of a wasteland, some place dirty and destroyed, abandoned and perplexed. Yes. that could be it, that makes sense right now.
The barren wasteland streatched before the Arctic explorer for as far as the eye could see. He had been lost our here for months, and his provisions were running very, very low. His dogs were long dead, and his parka had been worn down by the wind and snow into a useless sack. But somehow, he persevered. He was determined to find out how.