Agona Apell Poet Free verse

Notes About The Poem

I am pro-choice in the abortion debate but I part ways with the crowd who want to feel better about abortion by dehumanizing and isolating the unborn. The title of the poem comes from "Et tu, Brute?" (meaning "And you too, Brutus?") the reputed last words of Julius Caesar, uttered in shock that his beloved Brutus was among the conspirators stabbing him to death. The idea is that when the aborted child confronts its impending death and turns around to see its mother's face among the "conspirators", it cannot help but ask in shock, "Et tu, mama?" (And you too, my mum?). In the poem itself, there is a further question: "Et tu, doctor?" This aims to capture the irony that the two people whose presence comforts us most when our health is in distress (mum and the doctor) are the same people who comprise the lethal duo of the abortion clinic. Shorn of the care of our customary caregivers, someone must stand by the aborted child in its final hours.

Et Tu, Mama

What makes you human without your limbs,  
Human without your nose and toes – 
What makes you human without your ears  
Makes the unborn me human without your form. 
Yes, it’s my essence, not form, which counts: 
Be not liberal in defining gender yet conservative 
in defining life. 
 
By one sentence do mass killings in the world  
and womb begin: 
“They don’t look like us and don’t act like us:  
they’re not human.” 
Today, I heard hushed voices say so – then  
came a sharp pain. 
How I wished sweet mum or the doctor would  
come: 
I little knew they were here and directed the attack. 
 
“Et tu, mama? Et tu, doctor?” Dying words, I uttered. 
“Your life is not good for ours,” they said. 
Out of my cradle they forced me and whisked me 
past the world into the grave. 
“It’s my body, my choices,” I heard mum say. 
Yet I challenge not what she does with her body but  
with mine: 
It’s “my body, my choices” after all, in this her world.
 
My flesh is aborted but not my voice; lend it your lips, 
for mine are gone.
Then, perhaps, the unborn shall like the dead rest in 
peace some day:
Not belittled, not assaulted, but shielded with concrete
and taboos…
Behind me gut microbes swarm and play where side 
by side we formerly lay. 
Now mum’s cuddly flesh they enjoy better than me -- 
They must think they’re her babies and me the  
intruder.

♡Like0

Share Poem

---

Post Comments

Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.

Please Login to post a comment

Gu Jendayi November 9, 2022 at 12:13 PM I can appreciate this piece Agona Apell November 20, 2022 at 2:15 AM Thank u!

Miranda Hawley November 8, 2022 at 6:44 AM Depressing poem. Agona Apell November 20, 2022 at 2:18 AM Pain, death, difficult choices are all depressing stuff. Thanks for dropping in.

Reason A. Poteet November 8, 2022 at 4:09 AM My first acquaintance with your work -Agona and what a thrill it is. Third person perspective which is so lacking in this world of ego-oriented, selfish thinking. I'm not pro-choice myself, but with your view of the unborn as essence, life I so agree. Your Shakespearian setting is so appropo, I recently did a piece on Caesar's sixty friends. Would like to see you post more pieces. Agona Apell November 20, 2022 at 2:22 AM I couldn't resist framing the title around Caesar's question -- what would we do without Shakespeare? Thank u for the kind compliments.

Mpho Kgaswane August 15, 2022 at 2:50 AM Hi Agona this is an interesting poem that stimulates one's imagination about inner voice. Regards Mpho. Agona Apell August 26, 2022 at 1:45 AM Thanks for dropping in -- I'm glad u found it worthy of your attention

Andrew John August 13, 2022 at 2:28 AM Ooh, this makes me shudder. Very good poem AA. Very good poem. Thank you. Agona Apell August 26, 2022 at 1:43 AM Thank u Andrew, thank u!

Michael Ellis August 12, 2022 at 8:36 PM Love this message...Should be placed in a bottle and sent to every shore. The poet tells us to be aware of our inner character for we are more than the physical. Really love the By One Sentence Line...Great sharing Agona Apell August 26, 2022 at 1:40 AM I'm flattered that a fellow poet finds it worth sharing "in a bottle to every shore." Abortion is a difficult subject, and none of us wants to see a mother lose her health or life due to complications of pregnancy. But we must not dehumanize the unborn who already suffer a cruel fate in a nonviable pregnancy. Thank u for passing by and for the kind thoughts.

Aby M'Baye August 12, 2022 at 11:06 AM Thanks for this beautiful poem and Welcome Agona:o) Agona Apell August 26, 2022 at 1:23 AM Thank u Aby for your kind words