May 25, 1989:  Jennifer Amanda Worsham

May 25, 1989: Jennifer Amanda Worsham

A Poem by Siddartha Beth Pierce
"

a true story...

"

Sunday before

contractions

monitored

Sporadic

heartbeat

St. Mary's Ultrasound

 

Gone,

the Baby is gone.

 

The electric

system

within her

stopped.

 

The following morning

they induced Labor

to yank her

dead girl Out.

 

Pitocin used to

take over the mind

so that

she didn't have to remember

the Loss.

 

The father was there

and the mother

slept with her dead baby girl

for two hours.

 

The autopsy

reported that her leg

had crimped like a garden hose.

 

It shut off the oxygen to her

little Angel Brain.

 

Dark hair, blue eyes and a

sun tanned skin

from within.

 

If St. Mary's had buried her

she would have been slapped

into a pool of unclaimed bodies.

 

Mass Graves from L'Hopital

for unidentified disposals.

 

Instead, they arranged for her

Funeral.

 

A mother and father

at their dead baby girl's grave

Flat Headstone - Horizoned.

 

Slammed into this earthen

Slumber-

 

Buried in Babyland.

 

Come on Bye, Bye Love-

 

Maury Street, Hull Street

Richmond, Virginia-

 

in Dead, Dead, Dead Babyland.

 

 

© 2014 Siddartha Beth Pierce


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Featured Review

Oh......my heart aches, for you or whoever this was about. How tragic. One thing I liked that you did, that I thought was completely superb, was that you were so raw and brutal with the way you worded it, THAT was important. I think so often when one loses a child, it is never talked about, and when it is, it's all flowery and people try to make it nicer than it was. And frankly, it sucks, BIG TIME. It NEVER is nice. It sucks, it's horrible, and I think your poem did it justice. Put it in the right context of what it really is. I enjoyed this.

Posted 15 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.




Reviews

wow so incredibly tragic and poetic. thank you for sharing.

Posted 15 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

Oh......my heart aches, for you or whoever this was about. How tragic. One thing I liked that you did, that I thought was completely superb, was that you were so raw and brutal with the way you worded it, THAT was important. I think so often when one loses a child, it is never talked about, and when it is, it's all flowery and people try to make it nicer than it was. And frankly, it sucks, BIG TIME. It NEVER is nice. It sucks, it's horrible, and I think your poem did it justice. Put it in the right context of what it really is. I enjoyed this.

Posted 15 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.


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Added on May 3, 2008
Last Updated on February 20, 2014

Author

Siddartha Beth Pierce
Siddartha Beth Pierce

Richmond, VA



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Artist, Poet, Educator, African and Contemporary Art Historian more..

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