Deception

Beloved, I can’t lie anymore

You lived in my red river
Like a forgotten dream
That was the time, mellow
Soft rain danced on trees
And you lived in my pauses
My moans and my white hair
Demanded the touch
Of women with taut skin

Today is March beloved
And April is yet to come
I’m sure you’ll understand
Today, the road is dusty
Like old brass, an ugly
Canvas, bleeding with
The secret understanding
Of rain and the earth

I grew tired of you, beloved
It was time that took
You, out of my blue eyes
Taking you to the green fields
Yesterday, they spoke to me
Of the mautam[1] coming again
And the elders drank beer
Served by ugly women
In jars carved with deft old hands.


Three long months will pass
And august will come beloved
August will come
With the promise of rain
And men will dance
Like light footed whores
By the light of their lamps
August will come beloved
Like an unwanted child
Creeping from within
“She grows within me”
“She grows within me”
And all will rush to you
As if you were seeded
By the dark night. Beloved,
Only the rush of the cold night,
Will shelter you from my breath
And hold you in confinement
Beloved, the road will bleed again
A canvas seduced by the heavy rain

It is night and the gods are mourning
The night breaks with the roar of guns
What’s this life worth beloved?
A life without tunnels, which
Once roamed the vagabond sky
Now widowed and destitute

[1] Mautam : When bamboo flowering occurs, associated with destruction of crops by rodents. Mautam is sometimes observed in the North Eastern States of India, particularly in the state of Mizoram