The Cervical Woes. Poem by Nyaniba Kwenu Smith

His pain comes with no gain,

and his blackballed presence has become my greatest bane

There are those rare moments when in anticipation, i wait for him

and for those same rare moments, he comes not, despite my whim.

Then somewhat asudden and forcefully,

and highly unanticipatedly, he arrives with eruption,

in his usual red flowing gown.

With his terrible and lethal weapon, causing distraction

inflicting pain too, even so with a frown.

Excruciating,

He orders his subjects from my deepest parts,

with a steel face and stony heart.

and his following, those cascading globs of red,

create a ghastly sight on my homely bed.

I am left with sporadic dysmenorrhoea,

the reverse of pleasure becomes my overseer.

Oh my, the price to pay for womanhood

Can't hide my emotion, the thought just dampens my mood.

The executioner, my visitor, looks on and nods.

He looks proud and all, like the Zeus of the other gods.

I stare with contempt,

and make no attempt

to look away when he whispers, 'Menstruation.'