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POETRY

THE PUSH ROOM

Society makes beautiful what it needs
And surely makes it what it feeds
…to the masses
Who feed fat on it into classes
Which transports deviants with its strength into abominable busses
That’s not to say society serves no good
It sure is central to our growth’s food
…and sets the generational mood
But leaves a lot yet to be understood

II
I thought I was God’s foe
So deserved His punishment from my head to toe
In that room where new ones announce their presence with cries
But it turned out to be one of the many lies

IIb
She had a big Bible and a big faith
And a bed close to this me with no known faith
She was calm, praying and singing until it hit her
That the pain was one none could quietly bear
She called the midwives, telling them her young was coming
She called the sleepy and moody midwives, telling them she felt like pooping
She called the terrifying midwives, telling them her abdomen was bursting
She called the boiling midwives busy on phones, that her life was ending
The midwives traveled from indifference to anger
…and proceeded from anger to moods one can mark with danger
Until the Christian woman blessed with seed, pooped on the bare floor
Faces dangerous than the word danger appeared at the door
After I called on them to come clean the floor

IIc
Insults turned stones and were hurled at her
Manipulation turned bullets and were shot at her
“If you were a worker who needed to clean this, will you deem it fair?”
She wept and called God
I waited, wanting to see Him till I got bored
Then they neglected her
As she cried and wailed in a pitch even those at the world’s end will hear
…doubling my fear
She went from a prayer for help to a prayer of questioning
…a prayer of questioning to a prayer of whinning
…a prayer of whining to a prayer of shaming God
Then she stopped and swam in wailing
…even when the Bible had said “Pray without ceasing”

IId
My sympathies were in words but she needed the skilled
…to help relieve her so she could be fulfilled
So she changed her religious play into a pleading
“Ao, please come and help me
You’re all women and will pay this fee
At least do come, check and see
I swear my new one is coming”
But none minded her until I called again
Telling them she was pushing and was on the floor
They came in with speed so insane
Wanting to chastise her again
But one checked her and dropped her insult cane
Telling the others to help deliver her

IIe
She could not push
They forced her with angry words to push
“Is it not you who was shouting this roof off, use that voice to push”
She resumed to calling again on God
And within a painful hour, she delivered
She took a look at the baby and shivered
As the nurses blamed her for his state
They worked to resuscitate him for her
Fecal matter was stuffed in his nose, mouth and head
They kept him under a blue light
And led her to another room to wait as her young engaged in the life fight

IIf
Another who awaited her turn called her annoying
Letting all know she would never engage in such shouting
But few minutes after, she was wailing
Louder than the Christian’s
I couldn’t stand hers
It was a wailing which could wake all the angels who were napping
I sat there shivering
Asking why society deemed this beautiful
And added it to chores which made women dutiful
Of course fate will have me wheeled out
But I will never forget the shout

III
Giving life is a woman’s journey between life and death
No one should call it beautiful birth
For blood gushes out, feces drop
Urine pours, as tears drop
One who embarks on this journey is a warrior at war
A win or loss should be hailed to the core
He curses himself who hurts a woman
Who has been through this just because he is a man
Let great minds learn
…and wise heads, from this, discern
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia Β© May 8, 2022

By amoafowaa

Just a simple Ghanaian trying to find the best in our society. I may be fun, I may be interesting, I may be funny, I may even be foolish or intelligent, but it is all based on the mood in which you find yourself. I believe our minds make us who we are. Know that, pain, no matter its 'unbearability', is transient. Unburden or delight yourself for a while in my writings please. And all corrections, advice and opinions are welcome. Know that you are the king, queen or royal on this blog. :)

5 replies on “THE PUSH ROOM”

“Giving life is a woman’s journey between life and death
No one should call it beautiful birth
For blood gushes out, feces drop
Urine pours, as tears drop
One who embarks on this journey is a warrior at war.”

Very powerful and true. Congratulations, my dear Cecilia.

Liked by 2 people

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