Saturday, July 27, 2013

Cross-pollination blues

Cross-pollination blues
How long this bundling of organs into my tummy!?
How long is this- this saving the kite without the thread?
The body a struggle the manas another battle-
In the polychromatic world remaining unlettered- how long?
Which malady is there which doesn't touch the heart and the world?
What use is breathing and exhaling useless breath into absurd frame?
Except smearing the face with life's pollution
Except smearing in layers fresh coats of life's slush on the face daily
When thrown far away from the bonds of sweet affections and security
They unload down the clouds of camphor tears the burden
Many receive again the whims of childhood.
For all feeling of tiredness only a single intermission
For the central seat satisfaction is the only goal.
The whole world may grow wandering between two people
Let couples becoming pairs get along for hundred after hundred years-
Let them bluster becoming twigs, branches, and forests whole-
Why doesn't this insufferable nature leave?!
Is this (my) a warehouse
For the strength of wedding and the dissatisfaction of matrimony,
For the unbridled cruelty of masculinity?
Why doesn't this demonic desire disappear?
Why doesn't a re-stamping
Like war
Regilon
Time
Leave these people?
Enough if only this organ could be flung away
Enough if another creation would stop here-
(Translated by V.V.B. Rama Rao)
Original Poem in Telugu "Para Paraga Viragam" by K.Geeta

The time I'm a period

The time I'm a period
When the whole body is frozen into an abscess
When a private mount explodes silently
I make efforts in vain to clutch the pain in my grip
All of a sudden it gives a jolt
I in myself, solid becoming liquid
Then becomes a solid again
And then shattered to pieces.
Every month,having no other go,
I transform myself into pain- dead
Unable to plaster the wound that doesn't surface
Unable to grind the ribs into powder
Even unable to draw myself into a bundle of cosy sleep
Embracing the thirty-six hours of turbulence
Unable to remain a forced untouchable
Walking forward a few paces in civilisation
Becoming pale and rendered sleepless
Transforming aeons into moments
Becoming gasping leaps and sprints
Desiring to flatten the spine on the anvil
Toying with the idea of bundling this bother with chains of iron
Again and again, once every thirty days
Taking rebirths one after another
The period when crushed in gut-twisting agony
This period....
(Translated by V.V.B. Rama Rao)
Original Poem in Telugu "Nenu rutuvuneina vela" by K.Geeta