Dear Mr Finley, . . . . I want to thank you for the work and effort you've put into your genuinely wonderful and extensive museum. I'm so glad to see that someone is finally breaking the taboo that lies over the menstruation of women. And since one of us wasn't prepared to do it, I am equally happy to see a unbiased, dedicated man rise to create something out of a rather amazing aspect of womanhood that is so largely left unmentioned. My name is ****, and I'm thirteen years old. I live in Sydney. Please don't look past what I have to say because of my age. Despite the fact that I am nowhere near to seasoned when it comes to menstruation, I have experienced its knocks and take great comfort in your website's presence. It certainly strikes a chord in me. It seems, sadly, that we women have resigned ourselves to such a silence out of practice, and so there is something incomparably euphoric about the way you've broken the mold like this. I know many women are opposed to such a thing, seeing it as vulgar and unnecessary, and I hate to see their silences like that, to allow the essence of their femininity just fade away without a word. Your website never ceases to fascinate me, despite the risk of being branded a "pervert" by my friends. Though there are others who see the empowerment in it, myself included. Would it be alright if I could submit a poem to your site? Of course, rejection would not bother me, but I would really like to see myself as a part of your movement. Though could you please put anything that is added to your website under anonymous? Thank you. |
Daughters of EveIt seems that in this world forgedSo common is misconceptionThat it has grown and bent with the hillsOf time's discrepanciesThat are so to be clambered forth to ourSurvivalI am a daughter of Eve.I am the forbidden childI must bear Her age-old curseThis poisoned cradle of mineThis clandestine key to my fruitionThat weeps at the turn of timeShe is the white to His blackUnknown and unexpected untilIn Creation's faultless gardenThe unimaginative muscular build becameSo countered by the feminine flowDelicate soWhen God set a partner to the manOh white to His black whenShe was the Mother of LifeWhose eyes so encompassed its own intangibilities;She saw thingsPassed on her blood-deep intuitionAs Her mind's sights so congregated and conceivedWith passage of timeWhen she saw more beauties than EdenMan has swallowed eonsOf Her daughtersFrom the Living One, white,As in the eyes of his fathersAre her heresies and dark ink-scored mistakesAdmonishing her purityOf a time when she took her paradise into her mouthA treachery in her bonesA paean to her lipsA garden of perfection so revoked in her eyesAll so sculpted from AdamAnd her brash refusal to be a derivative of HeWith her own emancipationOh temptationShe took the fruit within herGentle lips and convinced by He,Was left to weep at her weaknessNow her legacy remainsAndMust an asp be the guise given to Her free will?Must Her disconnection from such norms, these vaunts of menBe a shunned, shamed thing?And must the blood that I shed be but a tacit irritationAn unspoken discomfitureTo be quietly gathered by a whisper in brightly coloured packaging?I refuse to be shamed by my curseI see the way I weepUnashamedly at the turn of timeAnd I am proud to bear itWhen the tides come for my riteAnd the moon soars on silvery wingsThe earth shuddersAnd I hear its beatFor I am attuned to its courseAnd cry tears for itFor Her daughters must live out her curseSpill their blood beset by ritualWordlessly for HerFor Her run to freedomTo beat against her furrowed groundTo suck the evil from the aspTo know She who ran before themTo dance in flow under the moonAlightI am gladI run the path to fruitionArchaic and wrought by HerThe time-aged battle sparked by flying freedomTo hold close Her memories in reverence ofOur kind.For I am a daughter of Eve.I shall desist with my feminist ranting now. Once again, thank you for your efforts and perseverance. Kind regards, **** |