Let a Baby be Born

“It was night in the basement of a ruined building.
The wounded from the atomic bomb
Filled the crowded, dark basement
Without even the light from one candle.
The smell of fresh blood and of dead bodies,
The panting and groaning.
From the midst of the sweaty people
A voice filled with wonder,
“A baby is coming!”
In the basement like the bottom of hell,
At this very instant a young woman was beginning in labour.
What could be done?
In the darkness without a single match.
They were anxious, forgetting their own pain.
Then, I’ll help. I’m a midwife.”
The woman, herself seriously wounded,
Had been groaning only a moment before.
In this way at the very bottom of that dark hell
A new life was born.
But the midwife, unable to endure to the dawn
Died covered with blood.
Let’s give them birth.
Let’s give them life.
Even if it means giving up our own.”

Kurito Sadako wrote about her experiences derived from the fateful pain inflicted by the atom-bomb dropped over Hiroshima on august 6 of 1945.

My Mother’s Name is Worry

In summer, my mother worries about water,
In winter, she worries about coal briquettes,
And all the year long, she worries about rice.

In daytime, my mother worries about living,
At night, she worries for children.
And all day long, she worries and worries.

Then my mother’s name is worry,
My father’s is drunken frenzy,
And mine is tears and signs.

Poem written by a 12 year old child in a slum area.

For Every Woman

For every woman who is tired of acting weak, when she knows she is strong.
There is a man who is tired of appearing strong, when he feels vulnerable.
For every woman who is tired of being called ‘an emotional female’
There is a man who is denied the right to weep and be gentle.
For every woman who feels ‘tied down’ by her children,
There is a man who is denied the full pleasure of parenthood
For every woman who takes a step towards her own liberation,
There is a man who finds that the way to freedom has been made a little easier.
Nancy R. Smith

It is not as if men have no problems:

If you put a woman on a pedestal and try to protect her from the rat race, you re a male chauvinist.
If you stay home and do the housework, you’re a pansy.

If you work too hard, there is never any time for her.
If you don’t work enough, you’re a good-for-nothing bum.

If she has a boring, repetitive job with low pay, this is exploitation.
If you have a boring, repetitive job with low pay, you should get off your ass and find something better.

If you get a promotion ahead of her, that is favoritism.
If she gets a job ahead of you, it’s equal opportunity.

If you mention how nice she looks, it’s sexual harassment.
If you keep quiet, it’s male indifference.

If you cry, you’re a wimp.
If you don’t, you’re an insensitive bastard.

If you thump her, it’s wife bashing.
If she thumps you, it’s self-defense.

If you made a decision without consulting her, you’re a chauvinist.
If she makes a decision without consulting you, she’s a liberated woman.

If you ask her to do something she doesn’t enjoy, that’s domination.
If she asks you, it’s a favor.

If you appreciate the female form and frilly underwear, you’re a pervert.
If you don’t, you’re gay.

If you like a woman to shave her legs and keep in shape, you’re sexist.
If you don’t, you’re unromantic.

If you try to keep yourself in shape, you’re vain.
If you don’t, you’re a slob.

If you buy her flowers, you’re after something.
If you don’t, you’re not thoughtful.

If you’re proud of your achievements, you’re full of yourself.
If you are not, you are ambitious.

If she has a headache, she’s tired.
If you have a headache, you don’t love her anymore.

If you want it too often, you’re oversexed.
If you don’t, there must be someone else.

Anon.

In the name of ROMANCE

Accusing women wrongly,
You are very foolish men,
If you do not see you cause
the very thing you condemn.

If with unmatched anxiety
You solicit their disdain,
Why demand their virtue,
while encouraging to sin?

You combat her resistance
And then, gravely you recount,
it was woman’s wanton ways
That brought you to this point

Who bears the greater blame,
in this passion that’s a loser?
She who’s fallen to his lure
or he, who, fallen, lures her?

Or who’s the guilty one,
though rightly neither’s free from stain
She who’s sinning for her pay,
Or he who’s paying for the sin?

Sor Juana Ines de la Cruz (1695-1651)

Mercy, Pity and Love

For Mercy has human heart
Pity, a human face;
And Love, the human form divine,
And Peace, the human dress...

And all must love the human form.
In heathen, Turk, or Jew,
Where Mercy, Love and Pity dwell,
There God is dwelling too.


William Blake

The Homeless Poor

In that very street, at that same hour,
In the bitter air and drifting sleet,
Crouching in a doorway was a mother,
With her children shuddering at her feet.

She was silent – who would hear her pleading?
Men and beasts were housed – but she must stay
Houseless in the great and pitiless city,
Till the dawning of the winter day.



Adelaide Anne Procter