the bleeding womb


I was surprised when

the walls around me tightened

Encasing life waiting to sprout

hope defined by the kicking gulps

soon to be crawling out

through the birth canal


9 months of playing entertainer in charge

culminate into an intense hormonal orchestra

I introduce the world through sounds

since there is no such thing as a womb with a view

I offer a theater like exposure

to the voices that tap at me

try my best to focus the curious ears

to notes of music and sounds of prayers

The life I hold

has dreams and fears

but a thumb suck

or placenta lick

is safe zone enough

It is a hectic 9 months

for me and my baby

as we build skills

and breathe and remember

I know my limits end

where yours start

and am quick to withdraw

as they nestle

the squirmy bundle

between your breasts

I do withdraw my walls

in relief but also

a nagging fear

of the world that

I give up the little soul to

by collaborating

in the event of birth


the intrauterine practice

of heart beats in pure oxygen

and absorption of your smells

is never ever enough

to prepare for that

to come in the outside

I have never figured out

how to help

the placenta

teach separation

or the fluids

feed tears

nor have I ever learned

to match the motion

in my lap to that of

the mother holding herself

and rocking in bereavement

for her son

nor have I been able to compare

the dilation of the cervix

as it opens to life

to that of the leery pupils

that dilate in flawed glances

towards the little girl


I caress the new life within me

closer to my blood

as I and he start a journey

and succumb yet again to hope

Withdrawing from my judgement

of mankind

so I can hold deep down

in myself a life that

is not compromised

till I have no choice

but to listen from the outside

to the desolate screams

of a Pradyuman or an Arushi


I cradle flawed life

for an exciting 9 months

I pulsate with divine mystery

and then

bequeath it to you

turning back to my void

I am not brave enough

to see you bid farewell

to the seedling I bore





Published by Kashiana

I am a management professional by job classification and a work practitioner by personal preference. One poetry collection - Shelling Peanuts and Stringing Words and a chapbook, Crushed Anthills. Always gathering poems, and letting them marinate and change shape and form.

2 thoughts on “the bleeding womb

  1. One has read about , blistering wounds, torn souls,tearful and reddened eyes, swollen faces,and bleeding hearts- But Bleeding womb is a new coinage for english literature .It conveys the heart rending but muffed up screams of a mother when her child is snatched away by the cruel world outside to whom she delivered her child after nine months of caressing in her womb
    Magical, Marvellous Expression


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