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Carlo C Gomez Nov 2019
The day you feared is here!
They've been pressed
into service.
Oh, new Dad
don't be jealous now.
Sharing is caring.
Yes, they're still your
But now they've received
a higher calling:
To nourish your offspring.
Inspired by something funny my wife said this morning
Carlo C Gomez Nov 2019
I dreamt it snowed
Nectar and powdered sugar,
Dusting nature's lips.

I recall the kiss from her
Not-so-innocent curiosity,
Come-hither in her arched brow.

How the morning breeze
Grew wanton,
Lifting her nightdress,
Until naked she pirouetted about
The cloister garth.

I dreamt of flowering moonlight
And his potent stem,
Filling her
With stars and shivers,
As she burst, for goodness sake,
From all the little blissful parties
Drumming her garden wall.

I dreamt of fecundity
And funnel cakes,
Soft and sweet and round,
Her milk a spring,
Laden with gift of life.

Intuitive opaque areolae,
The shape of things to come,
The very ones from which
She'll nurse their young.
To the amazing wonder that is a woman's body
Autmn T Aug 2019
Shameful to feed your kids breastmilk in public, but yet we will feed them bullets in their public schools.
Annoyed with the urgency some people treat something natural and the dismissive nature they treat something urgent.
Nikos Kyriazis Feb 2019
I see the stealth Web
that covers us,
hiding us from the eclipse

I know I'm not the only one here
We are all part of its crisscross framework

The Web is our blind mother,
it bred us sensibly...

We drunk to the last drip
that it could give
and now the breastfeeding
seems to be over

Àŧùl Aug 2018
I envision a happy future,
You are underneath me
And the position is missionary.

And I am relishing your deep,
Lovely and **** valley
Of bathykolpian dreams.
My HP Poem #1715
©Atul Kaushal
LitMum Jun 2018
I used to be nicer
Pay more attention to you
Sing to you
Feed you
Watch you with delight in my eyes
Gaze into your eyes with a smile
Our brainwaves were synced
Our bodies linked
We were one

Then he came
The intruder. The interloper.
Slowly at first
Nausea. Lethargy.
I needed to sleep
I turned my back on you at night.

Then the pain
I couldn’t run with you
Couldn’t chase you
Couldn’t carry you
I started to snap

Then my body betrayed us
Made our special time unbearable
I couldn’t stand to feed you
Your little hands searching for comfort
Made me sick
I dried up inside

The night before he came
I realised what was coming
It hit me
As I held you
In your sleep
I felt the tearing begin
And I cried and cried

Then he came
And he cried and cried
And cried
And I snapped
And now you don’t remember
The time before
And you cried and cried
For milkies
And I couldn’t give them to you
Catarina Pech May 2017
Oh my cheerful little *******, They hadn’t any notion
Of all the silliness, of all the commotion
One day their purpose would change
Temporarily my body would rearrange
Their use not merely ******,
Suddenly they were meant to be practical
Away with my decorative commodity
Hello to something of an oddity
So I traded in those dainty little things
For two mountains bursting with springs
Slowly the transformation took place
Albeit lacking in grace
Oh, my lovely unpresumptuous *******
Had become so useful, for that I am blessed
My zippy little ****** had grown to such size
And areola darkened and saucerish in guise
So to you I must ask a serious question,
After this, my descriptive dissection
I borrowed my *******, why be afraid?
It is the babes whose homage will be paid
The ******* that had been lent, weren’t ****** or vile
You might even go so far as to beguile
Because their most typical use was on hold
Their new purpose should’ve been a sight to behold
Instead people like to glorify or shame
As if those ******* are actually the same
Forget your twisted ****** mind
And to breastfeeding mothers try to be kind
A breast feeding **** looks nothing like its former counterpart, so lets not be awkward about seeing one.
The urban legend going round the mummy club
A woman
On a tube
Breastfeeding her baby, 5 months old, under her t shirt.
Not **** out
No feminist flags waving
No brazen cocky smile.
Just a hungry baby and a mother made by nature
And some milk

"Put em away Love", slurs an ugly man halfway down the carriage.
The other passengers are divided.
Some sink deeper into their headphones, under their broadsheets.
The others are ready for revolution, sit up straighter and plan an attack phrase or a protective move.

But this is what she's been waiting for since she so triumphantly became a successful, proud breastfeeder.

With a wet plucking noise she pulls her baby from the ****** where he was so contentedly feeding, where his warm little head was halfway to milky coma dreamland.
And she holds him aloft, her grip is confident and full. No one is afraid she will drop him, but he does not want to be there.
And in the stark light of the carriage, arms and legs chilly and free in the air he begins to flail them about. His voice throws out mews to every window of the carriage, turning into scratchy shouts as his protest gets stronger.
Until the baby, in a blue furry jumper, little bear ears for cute effect, is screaming.
Red faced, and with tonsils and tongue vibrating in the storm of his voice.
Arms and legs swimming frantically, looking for the bank of the river where warm mummy sits.
And over the storm, mummy looks over at the swaying, squinting man and shouts,
In one movement she cradles the yelling blue cub, shushing and quietly speaking to him as only a mother can, offering her ****** to his mouth until his round fuzzy head is bobbing and his mouth quietly busy resuming his meal.
"Or this? " She looks over at him.

The man mutters to himself and looks away. At the next stop he gets off the train, tripping down the step onto the platform.

The mother releases the challenge in one large breath.

She looks up at the two young men sat in front of her.
They are smiling, staring in awe. Choking and speechless one of them starts to applaud her.
Clapping her and shaking his head, his mate joins in.
Just an urban legend...
Anna Richards Mar 2015
Stretch marks, swollen ankles, itchy skin , aching back
Bigger feet, bigger bust, bigger belly as the day goes by
tiny flutters, little kicks, tiny fingers in my ribs
I've never felt like such a mess, or more beautiful

Unreal pain, Iv's, medication, the clock isn't moving
The room is spinning, a heart beat on the moniter next to me
Timing contractions, breathing, water, trying to ***
I never knew I had such detirmination , such strength

two days later, finally i look in the mirror at myself
Stretched out skin, saggy, swollen, bloated
Swollen feet, swollen legs, lots of extra skin
my hairs a mess, everything hurts and I have a scar

six months later, scar has faded, legs are back to normal
Feet are the right size again.. my bust, that's a different story
Then there's the weight that just won't leave
My body is totally different now.. and I still have a scar

I don't know how to relate to myself anymore , my body is different
I look at myself in the mirror and its not who i remember
I don't know what to wear or how to wear it
Things that I thought were comfortable are not anymore

I struggle each time i have to go somewhere to find something
Something I can nurse in, something that's comfortable
I feel fat, But I have strange moments of confidence
after all my body is freaking amazing, I made a human

All I ask is as I wade through these days of new motherhood
As I choke back tears everytime I have to find an outfit
As I have to second guess my outfits because I choose to breast feed
As I struggle with a bust so big its difficult to hide

All I ask from those in my life is a love and understanding
Understand this is a new world for me, being a mom
Understand that my body has changed permenatly
Understand I'm just getting to know the new me again

And please be patient as I figure all this out
As I nurse my baby and do whats right for my love
As I struggle through new outfits and my new body
As I learn to love the new me and feel beautiful again

Thank you <3

— The End —