Blossom Poem by Stug Jordan
Blossom
She listened to them call the swelling
Of her pregnancy a bundle, like laundry
Unfolded before washing, to be spun
Around her belly:
A nauseating godliness inserted like a bulb
Into her Eden, an abscess blistering
Its shoots in a sunless synthesis,
Sprouting as their conversation does,
These past-mothers; as if it was them
Who were opening again, and them
Who might flower in agony.
A most interesting piece, I chose this as it seemed an apt title being that it's most springlike today! I like this a lot, very deep, and yes it is true that they call the swelling blossoming.... and it is..... never see a woman more beautiful then when she is carrying a child, especially in that middle trimester! HG: -) xx
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/20/2024 1:29:27 AM # 1.0.0.1119
I love the irony of the title Stugg (I recall your comment on my Small Miracle) - so great to choose a title and be pleasantly surprised by the poem under it. This is a harsh portrayal of the fear of labour and the resentment many new mothers feel toward those who have done it before. Your have used some excellent images - unusual too - 'flowering in agony is superb.' Strong, provocative penning. love, Allie xxxxxxxxxx