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Breast-giver (a found poem)
September 26, 2013
10:35 pm
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Beggar-pickpocket-hooker,

breast-giver—she creates in the blind

alleys with chapped feet and large round breasts.

Take your wife, greedy crow, unthinking

bull driven by lust.

You eat rice and

stolen samosas

by the oil lamp.

Countless beings raised

a hue and cry in deepest night.

She creates as mother, pinched

skinny even while your flies were fat.

Her capacious bosom, a seething vat of milk.

Her offspring, a better human material created

by devotion, by mother’s will. I put flowers on her

belly, her languid-hipped body,

her motherhood.

 

[1] Devi, Mahasveta. “Breast-giver.” Trans. Gayatri Chakravorty Spivak. Breast Stories: 38-45. Print. 

Wine is bottled poetry. ~ Robert Louis Stevenson
December 21, 2013
5:23 pm
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Points: 12030
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Revised....

 

Breast-giver[1] (a found poem)

 

Beggar-pickpocket-hooker,

breast-giver—she creates in the

blind alleys with chapped feet and

large round breasts. Take your wife,

greedy crow, unthinking bull driven by

lust. You eat rice and stolen samosas by

the oil lamp. Countless beings raised a hue

and cry in deepest night. She creates as mother,

pinched skinny even while your flies were

fat. Her capacious bosom, a seething vat

of milk. Her offspring, a better human

material created by devotion, by

mother’s will. I put flowers on

her belly, her languid-hipped

body, her motherhood.


[1] Devi, Mahasveta. “Breast-giver.” Trans. Gayatri Chakravorty Spivak. Breast Stories: 38-45. Print. 
Wine is bottled poetry. ~ Robert Louis Stevenson
December 22, 2013
10:41 am
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Points: 7920
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Where in the devil did you find this? Was this not a book? I'm quite sure that I had read a book many years ago with this title............ just sounds so damn familiar............ Now I'm on a quest to search it out.......... Damn recall........... or mild hangover keeping me from remembering......... You kind of got a booby thing going here of late @tlhopkinson . Your own poem for breast cancer awareness still fresh in my mind warrants comment........... just sayin.......... what's with all the brestacular poetry of late??????????

I'llll be bahk...............

Those individuals who deem themselves perfect barely scratch an elbow in their fall from grace. Wm Steele
December 22, 2013
1:48 pm
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It's a short story... translated from Indian. Fabulous stuff. 

Wine is bottled poetry. ~ Robert Louis Stevenson

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