“Merde, je ne veux pas vivre!”
Le Ventre de Ma Mere: Blaise Cendrars
My Mother’s Belly
It was my first residence
It was quite round
Often I imagine
What I must have been like…
My feet on your heart mama
My knees tight against your liver
My hand grasping the canal
That ended at your belly
My back twisted into a spiral
My ears filled my eyes empty
Tightly curled up
My head almost out of your body
My skull at your cervix
I delighted in your health
In the warmth of your blood
In papa’s embraces
Often a mongrel fire
Electrified my darkness
A shock to my skull relaxed me
And I kicked against your heart
The big muscle of your vagina
Tightened fiercely
Sadly I gave in
And you flooded me with your blood
My forehead is still dented
From my father’s thrusts
Why must one let himself be thus
Half-strangled?
If I could have opened my mouth
I would have bitten you
If I could have spoken then
I would have said:
Shit, I don’t want to live!
-Blaise Cendrars
3 comments »
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One of my favorite poets!
Comment by Daurade — September 2, 2009 @ 12:48 am
i doubt anyone else has ever written a poem about his father’s penis pounding his head in utero, and yet most of us have had the experience! maybe the residual brain damage prevents us from remembering it. Of course, Bukowski has that story about the woman masturbating with a tiny little man, an adventure Stuart Little never had.
Comment by jonfrankel — September 2, 2009 @ 7:02 am
I remember having sex when my wife was pregnant and being a bit….worried perhaps about the engrams we were producing.
Comment by Daurade — September 4, 2009 @ 11:24 am