Who Gave You the Right to Procreate?

I almost cried at work tonight! There are few things that penetrate my cold hard exterior that I’ve built in order to do my job. Few things make me feel, makes me think, few things.
I met a baby tonight, one who had just begun to live and was almost ready to die. The mommy didn’t see the need for antenatal care, so she went nine months without seeing a doctor once. Her baby was born with a heart condition, it was difficult for me to watch him, pale, blue struggling to breathe, struggling for life and not feel agony. Sometimes when I think that humans can’t be any  more cruel, they up and surprise me yet again. That infant will probably not live to see a month, and that is a tragedy. There are couples and families that have tried in vain to have a baby, some who spend thousand of dollars, trying every new and experimental treatment on the block, just to be told that they would never be able to have their own child. It’s sad, that the ones who want can’t have any and the ones who have don’t want.

Sometimes I wish I was a rabble rousing, holier than though, evangelical nut, who was on a crusade to rid the world of IDIOTS WHO GO NINE MONTHS WITHOUT GOING TO THE DOCTOR ONCE. It bothers me, that they feel that having sex has no consequence and they have no responsibility to the growing person  inside them.

Firstly, I’m pro-choice, I don’ wave it like a banner or hold rallies about how awesome and right we pro-choicers are but I am. I don’t condemn someone who is pro-life, that’s their choice and I can respect that, but I believe in the ability to choose. I never want to be one of those persons having babies and being unable to care for them, thinking that its the government’s job or relatives’ job, or even the random man of the streets’ job to feed my children. If you can’t afford them, I don’t believe you should have them. There are enough abused, neglected and abandoned children in the world, without adding to the quantity. Being pro-choice for me, doesn’t mean using abortion as birth control or being loose and irresponsible. Yet to have that option of birth control and abortion should the situation call for it. I can tell that the backlash from writing something like this may be great, but fuck it, who cares.

Where I come from, prenatal care is a free service offered by the public heath department, you can go to the clinic and see the midwives, get standard care at no cost. If you want to see a specialist of course you will spend specialist money. There are always options and there are always excuses.

I conducted a research project when I was in my final semester of School of Nursing, investigating the percentage of women for 2010 who didn’t have prenatal care and the complications that occurred as a result. What was surprising was the high amount of women who didn’t see a doctor was approximately 30% and from that percentage only 5-6% actually had complications. The problem was however, was when the complications came, they were usually devastating to mother and infant.

This culture that we have cultivated of entitlement has really begun to dig us deeper and deeper to societal despair. No one wants to work hard for what they want anymore, they demand. From everyone but themselves, and it sucks, further reinforcing why generally, the poor always remain poor. I’m so tired, seeing women running into the hospital, in labor, ready to deliver a baby that she doesn’t even know the due date. It also bothers me, when they come in bleeding, after having taken four cytotec pills, bleeding out almost half of their blood volume and expecting us to save them. It’s the job, but it bothers me, that women feel they have the right to procreate just because they have a vagina, but with every action, there is consequence, I just hope it won’t be too high.


Mirror Mirror

identity d

I’m fracturing


renting from the seams

as pressure builds within,

it should be easy,

giving up on things

that make you toxic

but i’m pathetic

attracting leeches

like leeches

to blood

allowing them to suck my essence dry

i’m secretly sadistic,

pretending to enjoy my pain

by hurting others

and I’ve been

hurting others

stuck in this inter-neural battle

with myself for far too long.

something has got to give

Something has got to build

Because this life of delapitated love stories

And demolished dreams are beginning to take a toll

As I attempt to take 

Hold on all the things that make me 


I know I pretend like i don’t need you but…


I want to possess you

Demons circling easy prey,

I pray that you will love me



Forgetting about past

Because we are past

The last

Man… woman

We are linked to these bodies

By energy

You to me

Me loving you

Wanting to be your shadow

Your conscience

Your choice

Your first thought

And your last smile…

I am amazed

At how effortless we fit,


Metaphysical locks and keys

That were crafted for each other.

Moving beyond long winded

exhausted arguments about everything

and nothing

i am nothing without you

a sentient being floating

without a place to call home.

because you are home

the cozy embrace of your arms is my salvation…

And as I make offering to profess my devotion

I pray that you would give me a notion

A sign

A burning bush

Or a simple smile

I know I pretend like I don’t need you


i love you…

from your resident corny writer

What are we…. Exactly?


I know nothing about you

it seems

caught up in my own mind

trying to turn sexship into a friendship

or is it fuckship


fuck, shit…

I know nothing about you


but I can feel you undressing me with just the tone of your voice

when all is quiet

and i sleep at night

my mind settles in a spot right next to you

gazing into dark hues of brown and lust?

or love?

could it be like?

I know nothing about you but the rhythm of your thrusts

that my body has memorized like an orchestra playing in a show

bodies connecting in harmony as it makes music…

its beautiful

the sounds you make, when the intensity becomes to great

and you don’t wanna wait any longer

but you do


because my satisfaction is the satisfaction that you seek…

I know nothing about you

not enough

that i should be connected in the way that i’m connected to you.

that blue is your favorite color

and you love perfume

or is it cologne?

I don’t know everything about you,

neither do I want to,

what I know

is just enough.

Its Perfect


it’s perfect

dressed in fine silk and thick wool

a relationship that shines

reflecting all the light of the universe around it…

it’s perfect


filled with beautiful people

who must be perfect too…

But are they,


Beyond what the eyes can see

Dark closets and plushed pillows

so why do they pretend

living life like supermodels



flawless to the untrained eye and fake in all the ways it counts…

they were perfect

filled with well wishes and good intentions

but they never intended to fall out of love

stuck between starting over and pretending

pretending that its perfect

but all that glisters

hardly ever is gold

and some problems never have solutions

but whose perfect anyway?


I should just give up 

Give up living 

Give up trying to be something I’m not 

Fighting not to become the person that I am 

And it’s pathetic 

After all who said I’d never 

They can finally say that I didn’t 

Prophetic  justice for all the bad shit that I’ve done! 

And I’m hurting 

Busy hurting me 

Thinking I’m hurting you 



The crazies always come out late at night 

It seems 

When it’s dark 

And raining 

And people are asleep. 

They walk in roads 

Sitting on corners 

Feeding stray dogs 

From bins and boxes 

And all the yucky things 

That we scorn! 

They talk at the top of their lungs, 

Or so they feel 

Arguing with imaginary friends 

And villains.

It… Is sad 

Seeing lives wasted 

And people hurt

Destroyed by decisions and circumstances,

Some times I pity them 

The crazies 

Them and their shabby cardboard houses and tattered clothes 

Sometimes I could care less 

Too caught up in my shit to be bothered!

But it bothers me


The crazies 

The people 

The humans

That are just like me! 

Struggling to survive 

On the revolving hamster wheel of life. 

It should concern me a little bit more than it does 

But I am still caught up 

Drowning in technology 

And social media 

Loosing my humanity 

With each text message I send. 

I should be bothered 

Guess what?

You should too! 

The After, after


I know it’s good when I dont think 

When emotion melts away 

And insecurities fade into the background.

I’ve become a super human 

Hearing moans you barely uttered 


Incoherent languages 

And pleads 

“Baby, don’t stop” 

But I don’t hear them,

too busy 

in my zone 

Keeping rythmn in my mind 

And tempo in my legs! 

Most times I’m shaking, 

When it’s all over 

My body unable to cope 

With the electricity flowing through me

To you 

And it almost shocks 

When our fingers touch… 

But for me, it’s the smell

A mix of musk and sweat

my mouth begins to water just contemplating 

Taking you again… 

I know it’s good…

Cause it’s always good!

Hero complex 


I look up to you 



Forgetting gossips 

Half truths 

And veracity. 

Because it will never be true 

As long as I belong to you! 

I worship you 

My deity

Creating stick figure idols in your image

Beating drums 


Making spirituals… 

Legendary tales 

Passed down through generations 

My very own tradition of you,

The mentor that taught me love 

An education in life 

I all too willingly learned. 


The myth 

That we’re  all so obsessed with, 

But for me… 

I’m obsessed with you 

I’m Not into Girls… But I want To…


It was experimenting 

Mixing chemicals 

And watching them react 

Admiring soft skin 

And round curves 

No I’m not into women… 


I was experimenting 

Poetry became  our catalyst 

As we listened 

And we touched 

And we gazed 

Lyrically awoken,

She motivated me 

And I became 

Caught up with her. 

But It wasn’t suppose to get sexual, 

I swore it would’ve been platonic 

It had to be

After all we were girls 

And that was an abomination. 

But my lips craved hers 

And I got excited every time 

She wore her pink lips gloss,

Imagination running wild 

Pulses getting carried away… 

I was experimenting 

She was too

Who know 

In experimenting 

We would both find our truths