Monday, May 17, 2010
When will this barren womb flourish with life
When will this body give birth to a child to end my strife
I love for, I desire to bring forth love with pangs of birth pains
Mirror, Mirror, what do I see?
An aged, frumpy mother of three?
But if I look closer, what do I see?
A strong woman and a well used body maybe
Do I see stretch marks, hips, worn breasts and tired eyes?
Or do I see...
A body, a belly that carried a baby day in and day out
Breasts that once teased that
switched over to nourishing with ease
Rounded hips, boasting, having given birth to a human being seemlessly
Hips that now carry around a child effortlessly
A face aged with maturity
enhanced by being motherly
yet still able to be womanly
Look at my breasts, what do they tell you?
Do they recount the journey they've been on over the years?
Look at the stretch marks and the skin that was once firm
it has relaxed itself, after nursing a child to term
Look at my hips, do you know what I see?
Hips rounded, enticing and womanly
Four kids they have borne
Four kids they have carried
These hips are not the ones with which I got married
I traded them in, I gave them away
for the tenacious strong hips I have today
Look at my belly, tell me what you see
Lumps, and handles, some cottage cheese maybe?
Look at my scar, do you know what it means?
It was the day I was meant to give birth to my oldest of three.
Take another look, and guess how many
I did not succumb! the next two came out naturally!
Milk from the Heart
One sunny day, I went to the park
There was a mom sitting down with a heart
How odd but how pretty, such was the heart
So much so, towards her I went with my cart.
I sat down beside her and she smiled as she said
"Dear little boy, do you know how babies are fed?"
Puzzled and curious, I shook my head
Pointing to the heart "With that babies are fed?"
She smiled once again and onto her lap, was the cutest little baby who was taking a nap.
"Where is the heart!?, where did it go?!" I said
With that the baby awoke pretty upset
The mother turned to me again
"Do you know how babies are fed my little friend?"
A button came loose, a mouth opened wide, the baby was nursing and contentedly sighed.
"The heart! The heart! I Exclaimed,
"Look at it there!"
The mom nodded sweetly as she stroked her baby's hair
Dear little boy, now do you see?
This is how you feed a baby!
The heart on my lap, the one that you saw
Was milk from my breasts and love without flaw
To all the nursing mothers with love
Saturday, May 1, 2010
Because of my love for our local language, and the scarcity of books that have been translated to it, I am dedicating myself to expressing my two loves, breastfeeding & Papiamento!
Here are some poems 'criollo' style, hand written and heartfelt, from yours truly...
Un amor, bondadoso, un laso fuerte mane herro,
Consuelo, liquido foi mi pecho. Mane mi amor mi ta brindi, na abo mi ta rindi.
Na e emocion entre nos dos, e laso sin igual, incomparabel.
E uno a bira dos, pero ora na pecho, e dos ta bira uno, un individual
No tin mas mihor, no tin mas facil cu duna pecho na bo yiu, no tin mas natural...
Ruman, ruman, naci ayera
Bo sa kiko ta hasimi fuerte, Y alabes, ta bon pa nos tera?
Mami su lechi, esun den bo boca
Manera un symfonia pa bo curason, cu ta keda toca
Ruman! Ruman! No bebe tur! Laga algo pami, prome cu bira scur
Mami ta bisa, 'e baby prome', ami no ta worry, mi ta warda cu pasenshi te despues
Ruman! Ruman, laga nos comparti, na un banda abo, y na e otro, ami!
Esta dushi pa sinta ki nan, ta bebe lechi foi mami, huntu cu mi ruman!
Criatura chikito, den mi scochi sinta,
Bebe trankilo, tami cubo so ta lanta
Mi holoshi ta lew, ken ta wak tempo?
Tami cubo so, gosando den nos momento
Banda di mi bo ta drumi, mash dushi mes,
Keto den mi brasa,
Den cama drumi, abo cumi,
Net ora bo a lanta, cu mi man mi a bai pa caricia
Bin serka, serka pa bo scucha mi curason
Cu mi pecho nan mi ta criabo, e mihor alimentacion
Sosega un rato, abo cu mami,
Deno nos mundo nos ta, solamente abo y ami
Tuma foi mi pecho, lechi y consuelo
Ban sigi un tradicion di bo welo y bisabuelo
Riba bus, of na lama
Riba mi cama, of den nos cura
Den un tienda of rondona pa famia
Ora mi cai, y ora mi bai
Ora mi bin, ki ora cu tin
Mami su lechi, mescos cu amor, semper disponibel y yen di calor!
Mi por conta! Bo kier sa cuanto aña mi tin?
4 aña, yegando su fin!
Bo sa kiko toch mi gusta mas cu mangel of ijs-cream?
Pa bebe cerca mami, ta lechi tin!
Ah esta dushi, simplemente no por compara!
Ni kiko nan ofresemi, e no por iguala!
Kiko nas mi por kier, y kiko mi merece?
Sinta keto den brasa di mi mama, na pecho ta gos'e!