Menstruatio Poem-Daugthers Of Eve

Daughters of Eve

It seems that in this world forged

So common is misconception

That it has grown and bent with the hills

Of time's discrepancies

That are so to be clambered forth to our


I am a daughter of Eve.

I am the forbidden child

I must bear Her age-old curse

This poisoned cradle of mine

This clandestine key to my fruition

That weeps at the turn of time

She is the white to His black

Unknown and unexpected until

In Creation's faultless garden

The unimaginative muscular build became

So countered by the feminine flow

Delicate so

When God set a partner to the man

Oh white to His black when

She was the Mother of Life

Whose eyes so encompassed its own intangibilities;

She saw things

Passed on her blood-deep intuition

As Her mind's sights so congregated and conceived

With passage of time

When she saw more beauties than Eden

Man has swallowed eons

Of Her daughters

From the Living One, white,

As in the eyes of his fathers

Are her heresies and dark ink-scored mistakes

Admonishing her purity

Of a time when she took her paradise into her mouth

A treachery in her bones

A paean to her lips

A garden of perfection so revoked in her eyes

All so sculpted from Adam

And her brash refusal to be a derivative of He

With her own emancipation

Oh temptation

She took the fruit within her

Gentle lips and convinced by He,

Was left to weep at her weakness

Now her legacy remains


Must an asp be the guise given to Her free will?

Must Her disconnection from such norms, these vaunts of men

Be a shunned, shamed thing?

And must the blood that I shed be but a tacit irritation

An unspoken discomfiture

To be quietly gathered by a whisper in brightly coloured packaging?

I refuse to be shamed by my curse

I see the way I weep

Unashamedly at the turn of time

And I am proud to bear it

When the tides come for my rite

And the moon soars on silvery wings

The earth shudders

And I hear its beat

For I am attuned to its course

And cry tears for it

For Her daughters must live out her curse

Spill their blood beset by ritual

Wordlessly for Her

For Her run to freedom

To beat against her furrowed ground

To suck the evil from the asp

To know She who ran before them

To dance in flow under the moon


I am glad

I run the path to fruition

Archaic and wrought by Her

The time-aged battle sparked by flying freedom

To hold close Her memories in reverence of

Our kind.

For I am a daughter of Eve.

post signature

Related Posts by Categories

No comments:

Post a Comment