priyanka voruganti is a los angeles based poet, performance artist, social worker and teacher. she/they hold the role as program administrator under the directors of harm reduction at homeless health care. priyanka is working on her first book, an auto-theory, sci-fi memoir called or not called Planet P. drop a line.

email
substack




        (p.s. drag me!!!!!)
Seetha’s Story
I.


FROM THE ground
        came Seetha, psychedelic and all
        Celestial hoops of cyclical divinity & a bleeding, watching orb


resting on her T. Puckered lips, glossed, from the sliminess of man
or the womb of earth & One crown
swallowing her brain


vacant eyes
            a hand held out, Stop.
            Hidden between her legs
                                              a lotus, plucked to baldness.


II.


आच्छाद्योदरमूरुभ्यां बाहुभ्यां च पयोधरौ 
उपविष्टा विशालाक्षी रुदन्ती वरवर्णिन

[the wide eyed Seetha/with excellent color/covering/stomach/with thighs/breasts/with hands/sat down/crying]

from Valmiki’s Ramayana (Book V Chapter 19)


III.


Blue hands
unweave my sari, Dropped to the

floor & then my first sin: Rama


IV.
       

the darling is a scintillating Seetha,
                                             tap tap tap Odissi in the jungle with

forcedmudras, bones cracking,
                          
                                            keep dancing, legs bending

Deer, gold, dazzling, vibrations of seduction
                                                                        a material crime to women indeed

from the meatiness of night, the
                                                   murmurings of bark

How can Ms. Sleeping Beauty wake up?
                                                                 Thrashing in sheets, awake, I’M AWAKE

Furious venom
                        in the animal

but she ate the apple (anyhow)
& the Sitayanam progressed…

there are waters so clear they
could swallow you whole,

just as Seetha’s heart pure with candidacy
                                                             intent

it could demolish our villain,
our Ravana but

A woman asserting her own power isn’t virtuous
                   paralyzed on her belly croaking I knew I knew


V.


abla naari is my name
(helpless woman)


VI.


Alas! My husband! With
Rama I am complete,

with Rama I am full of fire
for the love of life
for the love of my life

I throw myself into the pyre
a helpless woman in His eyes,

My Rama, my

betrayer. No longer wants Seetha
but the flames cannot lie
the flames cannot deny
the pure idiocracy in Seetha’s veins.

 
VII.


O ma,
     Bhūmi if you truly are

envelop me once again into the roots of
              earth

where I can sob all hours
             my tears flow down my withered breasts

Eat my pureness, chew my sadness
and throw up what’s left


THE IDEAL Woman.