Poetry Moment

You all know that I love to read and I have a soft spot for poetry but, believe it or not, there is more to me than that. Another fascinating aspect of my personality is that I love quilts and quilting. So this little collection appeals to me on more than one level - the cover makes my eyes happy and the poetry inside makes my heart happy. Here's the cover of 'Soul Clothes' by Regina D. Jemison:
Pretty, eh? (yes, I am Canadian!) The following poem is long but it touched me in a very personal way as a woman and as a family member of breast cancer survivors. I hope you enjoy it.

WOMEN WAITING: breast cancer, a story

My time is passing

Without regret

                          With struggle

Without love

                        With Passion

My time is filled with purpose

                                     intensity and passion

                 (Without glory and recognition)

My time is passing

full of hope, promise, and direction

I. Once upon a time: SILENCE

Women sat waiting 

                       patiently

with shooting throbbing pounding pain

radiating in the cavities of their breasts

and minds

Once upon a time

Disfigured by silence

Maimed by complacency

We were quietly vanishing

No one talked

            to share comfort, commonality, and fear

Once upon a time

there was no awareness

            no commercials, infomercials, or psa's

            no month set aside, or money for research

            no pink ribbons

            no marches or walks

Once upon a time

there were no reminders

            no hanging shower cards

            no breast self-examinations

            no informational pamphlets

Once upon a time

Women suffered in a cultural, physiological, sexual void

asking why?

generations of women and mothers and daughters

alone and afraid

Women, faded away, disappeared

into blinding flourescent lights

of diagnostic rooms, x-ray rooms, waiting rooms

breasts lopped off

II. BREASTS

Symbols of growth/from child to teen to woman

Symbols of power/perky inviting nipples, sexy valley deep cleavage

Symbols of wealth/silicone valley for the rich

Symbols of burden/heavy, harnessed breasts in bondage bras 

            causing shoulder scars and bent over backaches

Small breasts, symbols of inadequacies

            fairy tales and myths

Eyes hollow, shoulders shrugged, hesitant hugs

would anyone know, if our breasts were gone?

Would anyone know the wrenching pain

in the cubby hole of our armpits

the inability to lift our arms or our voices?

Would anyone know our loss in the attic of our emotions?

Would anyone know the hole in our heart

the rejection of lovers, the confusion of husbands, the dismissal of 

partners?

Would anyone know the humiliation in locker rooms, public 

restrooms, and airports?

III. Once upon a time: my story

I am the Woman waiting

for the results of my second mammogram and

bilateral ultrasound at Sinai Grace in Detroit, Michigan

waiting with women

old enough to be my mother or grandmother

they don't look like me, but

our breasts are gone

Once upon a time, not so very long ago,

I shopped for prothesis,

prothesis that didn't come in my size or shape or my brown color

                       prothesis, the word doesn't even sound natural,

                       doesn't sound like me

foreign like the scar it was supposed to cover

or the facade it was supposed to create

so I wouldn't remember

the scars, the scars that I was afraid to touch, afraid

touching would make the absence of my breasts real

scars that debilitated my self esteem

ignited my anger

confused me

reminded me of the

cold detached treatment of doctors and nurses

             medical professionals turned insurance pimps

IV. Once upon time, today

Women speak CANCER

we look it in the eye, know and dismantle facts from myth and

share our knowledge, demand honesty and respect

straighten our backs, lift our songs

grieve

rejoice

live!