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Poets to Come: A Poetry Anthology

What better way to celebrate the 200th birthday of Walt Whitman than have an anthology of poems from poets that came after him. Over 200 poets are featured in Poets to Come. My poem “On a Saturday Morning” is on page 346.  This is one anthology that is definitely something you must have.

 

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Why We Are in Iraq – April 11, 2019

My poem “Somewhere in the Middle East After One War Ended that’s in Chant of a Million Women (2017) is published in Why We Are in Iraq today.

 

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Pendle War Poetry – 2018 Anthology

Rush Hour, the poem submitted to the Pendle War Poetry Competition, in the adult overseas category, may not have won the competition, but it was selected from the long list to be included in the anthology.

OVERSEAS ADULT POEMS INCLUDED IN 2018 ANTHOLOGY:

Sister Bullwinkle – Paula Miles, Australia
Those Boys – Teresa Hall, Scarborough, Ontario, Canada.
Cesspool Your Name is War – Faleeha Hassan, New Jersey, USA
Indo-Pak Border – FABIYAS M V – KERALA STATE, INDIA
No Doctor To Cry – Jerusha Hackworth – New South Wales, Australia
Far Back In The Dark – Ogunlade John Oluwaseyi, Lagos, Nigeria
Hiroshima n Nagasaki – Seventy+ Years Since 1945 – Matthew Harris – Bryn Mawr, Pennsylvania, USA
MOTHER EARTH – Cecilia Mallon – Ontario, Canada
WHEN DID WE LAST LIVE? – Yamberzal – Bahrain
Shell Shock Parasite – Gregory Fino, Pittsburgh, PA, USA
Bantering with the Dead Soul – Harshita Lall – Dallas, Texas, USA
SYRIAN DESERT– 2015 – Kevin Le Merle – Paris, France.
Memorials – John Seriot – Aurland, Norway.
HEADSPACE – Emily Dentler – Bad Homburg, Germany
Battle of Bloodriver – Jandrie van Staden ,Pretoria, Gauteng, South Africa
Never Again – Heather McNair – Auckland, New Zealand
BALLAD OF DEMOKRATIA – Pukhraj Neogi – Lucknow, U. P., India
AMBER – Stephen J. Cribari, Minnesota, USA
“Napalm Girl” with Boy – Frank Joussen – Germany
THE CRY OF WOMEN – Temani Nkalolang – Gaborone, Botswana
An Unknown Soldier? – Paul Barrett – Mystic Park, Victoria, Australia
SPLASH AND SILENCE – Kofie Jerry Atta – Ghana
The Silent VC – Jamie Pinnock – Colgne, Germany
HMS REPULSE & HMS PRINCE OF WALESJeremy Gadd – Sydney, Australia
Barrow – Julian Aiken – Connecticut, USA
The Martyr’s Shrine – Swati Jha – Pune, India
WAITING – Frank Murdoch, Lamma Island, Hong Kong
Lament for Aleppo – Anne Casey – Northbridge, NSW, Australia
Dissociations Of Thirty Three Degrees – Marcelo Moreira – Salvador, Brazil
To Survive Soul – Milos Simic – Kragujevac, Republic of Serbia
”The trajectory of fingerprints in blood” – Cristiane Vieira de Farias – São Paulo, Brazil
Rot – Rhiannon Brönnimann – Brussels, Belgium
Where in Hell is God Now? – Henry Spencer – Pietermaritzburg, South Africa.
The Theatre Of War – D.P.G. Sheridan – Gdansk, Poland
a soldier’s legacy – Nico Volkerts – Texel, Netherlands
Breaking Glass – Richard W. Halperin – Paris, France
THE SANDS OF TIME – Dave Pugh – Burgundy, France
Channel One – Richard Hookway – Banpong, Thailand
War is but an Engagement where Good People die… – Clint Hirschfield – Soldiers Grove, Wisconsin. USA
Rush Hour – Shirani Rajapakse – Maharagama, Sri Lanka
Joy At The Front – Joyce Orsini – Leghorn, Tuscany, Italy

 

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A Page to Turn – January 24, 2018

Here’s another great review of Chant of a Million Women from Bobbie at A Page to Turn. The same was also posted on Amazon.

A Page to Turn Blog of Bobbie Stanley

Reading Books in a Southern State of Mind

Review | Chant of a Million Women by Shirani Rajapakse

January 24, 2018

Bobbie

Rating: 4 stars

It’s hard for me to review poetry.  Prose makes it easy because grammar, flow, characters, and plots come into play.  Poetry, though, can’t be dissected quite the same way.  This book, while technically fewer pages than a lot of the ones I’ve reviewed, took significantly longer to read because it pulled me through so many experiences.  To say that I enjoyed it wouldn’t be quite accurate; each poem in this book made me thoroughly feel something, but most often those feelings were desperate, angry, and painful.  They shed light on lives and experiences I will probably never have a chance to understand through my life path.  They forced me to see things I would rather ignore and called out my typical American behavior of overlooking the hardships women face outside of this country.

There were times while reading this that I felt overwhelmingly guilty for having been born into a life that some people will never know.  I felt guilty for taking for granted the freedom that we have and for failing to use my voice when I have so much more opportunity to do so than women in more countries and societies than I can count ever will.  There were times when I felt embarrassed for the way that our society has taught people to behave.  Not all of these poems were particularly enjoyable in their experience, but every one of them sparked thought and brought up very real questions that we should all be considering.  That is the true value in this work.  It is not a light read.  It is not something you’d carry with you to the beach or enjoy over a night, relaxing vacation.  There’s nothing relaxing about this.  This is a book that sparks movement, that demands action.  If you are prepared to be dragged into a reality that most of us would prefer to ignore, this is a great way to do it.  Let these words show you the things you haven’t learned yet.  Let them make you angry.  Let them draw you out and call you to action.  Well done, Shirani.  This is a powerful collection, and I hope it calls forth the action and attention it deserves.

 

 

Reading from Chant of a Million Women on The Book Speaks Podcast

Big thank you to Benjamin Douglas for featuring my work on his podcast. Episode 26. Go to the link here.

or check it out below.

Episode 26: Shirani Rajapakse

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Today I have a real treat for you: I’m reading from an indie-published poetry collection, Chant of a Million Women, by Shirana Rajapakse! Have a listen to the show for two of her poems, and check out her own poignant reading of another in this video:

As always, today’s readings are presented here with the author’s permission, and do not come from an official audiobook. Come back next week for another indie author reading! You can find Shirani online in these places:

WordPress    Facebook    Twitter

Pinterest    Instagram    linkedin

goodreads    Amazon

And you can find her book, Chant of a Million Women, at the following vendors:

Amazon    Lulu    Books2Read

Book Review in Peeking Cat Poetry Magazine

Check out the review below or go to Peeking Cat Poetry Magazine to read poems by other writers in Issue 29, September 2017.

Editor’s Book Review: Chant of a Million Women by Shirani Rajapakse

This month I had the joy of reading Chant of a Million Women by Shirani Rajapakse, a Sri Lankan poet and fiction writer.

This poetry collection covers lots of themes, including identity, relationships, freedom, dignity, war, struggle and rape, but its main message is captured in the title poem, “Chant of a Million Women”, which opens with:

My body is a temple, not

a halfway house you enter for

temporary shelter from

the heat and dust swirling through trees.

This poem really embodies the spirit of the whole collection, giving women a voice, a reminder of our self-worth and ownership of our own bodies.

“I Live in Dreams” is a mingling of dreams, reality and longing, and a similar mix of melancholy and hope can be found throughout the collection. In particular, “Asking for It” is a powerful commentary on rape and victim-blaming culture, and “Unwanted” is short but touching, and one of my favourites. “To Dance with the Wind” has some wonderful imagery which really did make me feel like I had been picked up and taken by the wind.

Overall this collection is spirited and powerful, and above all, it has an important message that is expressed so well. This is one of my favourite collections I’ve reviewed so far, and I would thoroughly recommend it.

Chant of a Million Women is available in print from Lulu.com and Amazon, and also as an eBook at http://www.books2read.com/shiranirajapakse.

You can also find Shirani Rajapakse in Flash Fiction International, Mascara Literary Review, Asian Cha, Deep Water Literary Review, Dove Tales, Earthen Lamp Journal and City Journal, among others.

Sam Rose

>^..^<

 

The Poems in Chant

Several issues are discussed in Chant of a Million Women. There’s also quite a range of emotions carefully placed between the pages. In the following weeks I’ll talk about a few poems.

Image may contain: shoes and text But I’ll start with the first poem. “At the Side of the Old Mandir” This not only sets the stage as it were to the collection but it also kind of pulls in the idea of the role of women from history to the present not being very different.

The influence for the poem was a statue of a woman at the side of a mandir (temple) in India. The old beautiful carvings on the outsides of temples depict women in many poses. Almost all of them are of women with large breasts and voluptuous hips.

I’ve traveled a lot in India and seen many interesting places. Since I like art, history and culture my travels tend to take me to places where I can find all of this in abundance and the old temples are a definite must see on my itinerary.

Viewing the statues and images I came across an interesting find. In quite a few of the images of women in the carvings in mandirs and abandoned places the breasts were darker and I used to wonder why, until one day I saw why when I turned a corner in a lonely mandir and surprised a devout follower of whatever God resided inside that mandir.

The image of that encounter I witness stayed in my mind although I wrote about it many years later.

At the Side of the Old Mandir

 

They come to this place every day

to touch you.

Lonely men with desires unfulfilled.

Can’t afford the real thing, costs too much

these days, a glance, a caress.

They can barely afford food for the day.

 

You’re the best they can have;

voluptuousness in stone.

They ogle and marvel, then

gradually draw nearer.

A furtive glance in every direction to check

if anyone’s watching and a hand

lifts up to cup a breast.

Human and rock merge for a blissful moment.

An eternity passes as time

drags itself to a screeching halt.

Sighs of contentment escape.

 

Satiated temporarily,

they return to a place at a distance,

to admire and hope.

 

Later, moving inside they speak to God, plead

with him, cajole, sometimes demand.

Karma always questioned in times like this.

A truth hard to accept.

The reasons why never defined, lying hidden

in the cosmic ether beyond their

comprehension.

 

Your breasts are a shade darker than

the rest of your body,

colored from constant caresses of

lonesome men seeking stolen pleasures.

A slow smile playing on your lips, one arm

resting on a hip pushed out to the side,

the other raised from the elbow,

fingers encircling lotus, you stand waiting

for what might be, as they shuffle past,

circumambulating

like the devout, softly singing praise

of the one within.

Quietly taking in their fill they return to

homes devoid of love and desire.

 

Who are you,

proud woman standing nonchalantly

gazing into the distance as they walk past?

What was your fate?

Willed by the hand that chiseled

you from a large rock hewn out from

another place one sunny day eons ago.

Who was the man that yearned for you so,

he cast you in stone in remembrance

to watch over the years

and give hope to

a multitude of desperate souls?

 

This idea behind the incident I saw and the image of the dark breasted statues reminded me of something I saw in a telephone booth on a street in London. This was a time before the mobile phone and if you needed to make a call you’d use a public phone. I don’t know if those still exist, but one of the things that greeted you when you entered one of those phone boxes was a whole load of calling cards with photos of women, much like the statues of the women in those ancient temples. It appeared as though modern women were trying to emulate the statues which were probably carved out by men who were seeking the ideal woman and not finding that around them, they were creating images in stone.

It seemed very sad. We’d come so far yet as women we hadn’t given up the notion of pleasing others – of turning our bodies into objects of pleasure for men and it didn’t matter that we were getting exploited as well. “On a Street in London” ends the collection. Between those two poems there’s just about every emotion and situation women have faced, put down in verse.