Showing posts with label poem. Show all posts
Showing posts with label poem. Show all posts

Mama's Boy, a poem for an intact boy

Mama's Boy

by Jill Galano © 2011



just fresh from my mommy's womb, not even a few hours old
the nurses came to ask about circumsion, though mommy had already told them no.
they asked several more times just to be sure, maybe mommy did not make it clear

she said no once again, and hoped that was enough because there was no way
she would hand me over and let them take me away

away to be cut with a very sharp knife, on my tender newborn baby skin ~
especially for no reason at all, except for the fact its been done many times over the years,
and to say no is just simply something many are not strong enough to do,
but they would probably change their minds really fast if they could hear the screams coming from their precious
baby boys, and see the downpouring of tears.

how could it be that this is ok? that doctors and nurses cut babies each day
yet Mothers who say NO! they mock and turn their heads away?

And for those who are not educated, surely you must know that they are cutting precious babies
each and everyday, offering no reasons that make any sense, yet you still hand your babies over and say OK?

so thankful my mommy knew from the start, that nobody, nowhere would be able to change her heart~
I am her precious baby boy, made perfectly from head to toe ~ one day I will thank her for loving and protecting me always,
and from my first day of life, being strong enough to tell them NO!.

Violated: A Baby Boy's Point of View

Something to think about. If babies could use language, this is what they might be thinking.

I just learned this was published on drmomma.org back in January. I feel I need to give credit there because I wasn't aware at first where it came from.

*************************************************


A warm and tight embrace,
keeps me sheltered in this room.
My safe and secure nest,
I know this is your womb.

I feel the surges pushing me,
and I meet a cold harsh light.
Then suddenly I'm in your arms,
and everything's all right.

Warm and sweet milky life
,given to me with love,
Then something firm snatches me,
a hand covered by glove.

Laid on a cot, I'm wheeled away.
Where could I be going?
Am I going to be okay?
I'm pushed through the doors not knowing.
There's the same harsh light again,
blinding my sensitive new eyes.
The door is shut, just me and them,
will anyone hear my cries?

My arms and legs strapped to a board,
I'm struggling just to move.
My clothing from the waist down,
is all that they remove.

My eyes bulge with fear,
I gasp, scream, and cry.
Why won't you help me, mommy?
I'm afraid that I may die!

I wonder where in the world you are,
while my confused head spins.
Its YOUR job to keep me safe.
But, too late. It begins.

A cold liquid poured upon
my most sensitive spot.
Then a sharp needle enters me,
burning icy hot.

Then I go numb,
body and mind.
I ignore them while
they cut and grind.

Finally they finish,
but I don't care.
I have no clue
how long I was there.

Returned to you now,
you smile at me so kind.
"Did it hurt him at all?"
"No! He didn't mind."

I can't help but feel
that I lost a part of me.
How can I go on
when I'm not who I used to be?

So I eat and I sleep,
resting long to recover.
But I no longer feel safe
in the arms of my own mother.

What if they come back
and decide to hurt me again?
Every burning urination
is a reminder of what happened then.

Time goes by,
I've healed from my trauma.
I'm growing everyday,
I can even say "mama!" I live a normal life,
though I am NOT the same,
but what can I do?
And who can I blame?

I can only keep living
and seek no retaliation.
I accept my life as normal,
and forget my mutilation.

live a joyful life,
grow up happily,
and in the process I forget,
all that was stolen from me.

(Jessica Davis Olivera)