Recently I came across a website called ‘Womb Poetry’ – it’s an online journal/zine (they’re not sure which), and it’s ‘poetry for everybody’, written by women (only). Why the name ‘Womb’? Because they like the word, the etymology and the figurative/connotative properties of the word.
A contributor says one such connotation is that womb is a birthing place. So it has a reference to creativity - create, nurture, which only women can do. A woman, I am made to understand, is born with the fierce and intense longing to find the right mate to create the most beautiful and meaningful thing in the universe – a life. Like the beautiful Natasha Henstridge she scours the streets for a mate who would be the ideal chromosome sharer. She fucks him merely to get his sperm firmly embedded in the womb (those who fuck just for pleasure are nymphomaniacs). I am told that women are driven by that desire (or are supposed to be) and self-actualisation for a woman is when she gives birth. She suffers the most terrible pain in the world to create a thing of beauty, a bundle of joy.
The woman has been revered through the ages as the goddess - patient, kind, benevolent goddess; she suffers in silence for the greater good of humanity. Take for example a typical household, which is run by two partners, the man – the provider, protector and the woman – the nurturer and sufferer. Without such a clear-cut distinction that so lucidly charts out boundaries and roles, the delicate equilibrium called ‘family’ would wobble precariously and plunge to sure destruction. It is the woman who holds the fort up - though the man is and forever will be the Lord and the Master – she is the one who sticks a finger in the axle of a chariot wheel, so it may not collapse. The Master exalts her for such benevolence, and even worships her (as long as she knows her place and remains there).
A woman unwilling to stick her finger in the axle and who does not attain Nirvana while giving birth is a harlot, no doubt.
I mean no disrespect to the eminently capable poets/writers who contribute to the online womb journal. But personally, it is not my cup of tea.
My point of view is that a woman calling herself a Womb or choosing to define her identity thus, is as uninspiring as a man calling himself Testicles.
A contributor says one such connotation is that womb is a birthing place. So it has a reference to creativity - create, nurture, which only women can do. A woman, I am made to understand, is born with the fierce and intense longing to find the right mate to create the most beautiful and meaningful thing in the universe – a life. Like the beautiful Natasha Henstridge she scours the streets for a mate who would be the ideal chromosome sharer. She fucks him merely to get his sperm firmly embedded in the womb (those who fuck just for pleasure are nymphomaniacs). I am told that women are driven by that desire (or are supposed to be) and self-actualisation for a woman is when she gives birth. She suffers the most terrible pain in the world to create a thing of beauty, a bundle of joy.
The woman has been revered through the ages as the goddess - patient, kind, benevolent goddess; she suffers in silence for the greater good of humanity. Take for example a typical household, which is run by two partners, the man – the provider, protector and the woman – the nurturer and sufferer. Without such a clear-cut distinction that so lucidly charts out boundaries and roles, the delicate equilibrium called ‘family’ would wobble precariously and plunge to sure destruction. It is the woman who holds the fort up - though the man is and forever will be the Lord and the Master – she is the one who sticks a finger in the axle of a chariot wheel, so it may not collapse. The Master exalts her for such benevolence, and even worships her (as long as she knows her place and remains there).
A woman unwilling to stick her finger in the axle and who does not attain Nirvana while giving birth is a harlot, no doubt.
I mean no disrespect to the eminently capable poets/writers who contribute to the online womb journal. But personally, it is not my cup of tea.
My point of view is that a woman calling herself a Womb or choosing to define her identity thus, is as uninspiring as a man calling himself Testicles.
No comments:
Post a Comment