Hey there, How are you doing?
Thank you for stopping by.
I bet you can already sense the vibes about what we will be discussing.I must warn you it is a bloody affair.
Whenever I hear a female mention the woes of being on her period, is a scene constantly playing in my mind .A colleague of mine was utterly embarrassed by some male counterparts as she got stained by the nature of her body.They actually made a laughing-stock out of the incident and gave her nicknames.And since then she curses the onset of her blooming as those memories haunt her.
Attitudes towards menstrual blood in contemporary Western culture still circle around the subject with a mixture of denial and horror, advertisements for sanitary products typically use blue liquid in an attempt to sanitize the reality of blood, weary old jokes circulate about not trusting anything that bleeds for seven days and does not die. Menstrual blood is constructed either as something that requires a hygienic makeover or as something unnatural and obscene, a further indication of the horrors of sexual difference and the threatening ‘secrets’ of the female body.”
― Ruth McPhee,
I decided to write a poem on it.I do not know if I will muster the courage to perform it anywhere.Kindly let me know in the comment section about how you feel about poetry on such topics or drop a few of your own lines.I would really appreciate it.
I have always loved breaking the rules.
I am left broken
By other things
What breaks me is hearing how
People bleed to death
Yet my own kind bleeds.
Not many understand that
My kind craves no mortal honour
Through a cycle of resilience
When stamped by a signature of womanhood
We crave Support
Are belted down
By our very nature on a regular basis
That has now been dabbed
As a source of shame
That brands us
As the new breed of aliens.
And we’re told to be silent
About this able-bodied qualification of womanhood
If menstruation matters,
Then why do we suffer silently?
Do you sense my frustration?
I am not saying we should voice it out loud
How red rose petals are raining in our panties
Or the intensity of the rain or
Pain that spreads quickly
From the spine
Stretching freely throughout
Flexing through nausea
From the throat
To the tummy before
Making rent in the seat of my trousers
Leaving my head bobbing
The persistency of aching
The hormonal interplay
Never ceases to amaze me
With episodes of clownery to foolery
That leaves me cramped
As my thighs are painted red
When I am not padded.
Don’t voice that out.
It is tormenting to hear, isn’t it?
What I am simply saying is
Before you tell me to suffer silently
Or suggest how apparently I am not good at having my period
Understand my proposed rule of thumb
Even after letting you off
Having qualified us as society’s new breed of aliens
We may ask for some room
Our bodies love to travel
For a span of days
See you again
around the same time,next month
Just in case I don’t travel
Remember the route
Through which you were nursed
By this very blood.
Blessings and Bliss
©Justified Ecstasy 2017
The cover photo is from a friend George
Last photo is VSCO mobile enabled shot taken by me.