Bruised, but not Broken (poems) -Challapalli Swarooparani 19. Wild Lily I am a piece of black flesh Formed into sculpture How could I have a heart when I am all flesh? In the mirrors of my inadequate blouse Hang reflections of Conspiracies, across time, which You have plotted against me. I know that The sound […]
Continue ReadingBruised, but not Broken (poems) -Challapalli Swarooparani 18. Child Sacs Leading a hand-to-mouth life The day before yesterday We sold our drudgery Yesterday we pawned the pitcher and winnowing pan. For a gulp of gruel we sold The blood in our body Our kidneys, for a handful of space We pawn our hearts every day. […]
Continue ReadingBruised, but not Broken (poems) -Challapalli Swarooparani 17. Black Mother While all sons became mother’s sons And all daughters, father’s daughters Just so to garland their fame with poetry, You never got any respect in life, Mother Only crowns of hardship. When I think of you, The stream of humiliation that you swam across Breaches […]
Continue ReadingBruised, but not Broken (poems) -Challapalli Swarooparani 16. Postponement of Love Love poetry! What do you mean, my writing it? My lips have been trembling for ages With the fear of death To even utter the syllables of love, How can I write poems on my love! Who after all acknowledged There beats a heart […]
Continue ReadingBruised, but not Broken (poems) -Challapalli Swarooparani 15. Step Mother My Hindu step mother! When you excommunicated my touch To a nowhere place, the trisanku heaven* Tied a muzzle to my mouth Hung a broom down my backend made A strange animal out of me I became an alien in my own land. With not […]
Continue ReadingBruised, but not Broken (poems) -Challapalli Swarooparani ‘ Memory as an Ideology ‘ Challapalli Swaroopa Rani uses memory not only as a technique but also as an ideology. Her selective memory carefully constructs the people and the milestones in her life and collates this personal memory with her memory of […]
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