Loving an Amazon

[sundarramchand]

There she was,
The rough tomboy
Could ride the horse
And float with the buoys

This was her fourth
Of many such
Delicate ways as befits a court
And Amazonian (yet maternal and feminine) ways like a butch

A cloth around her neck tied
Her opponents like brides cried
When, Like an adventuring fisherwoman dressed
She appeared, Dagger against her dress pressed

Could gut the whale
Tame, shame and shear the recalcitrant male
Cut the wolf rabid
Yet take care of her followers avid

She takes her fifth shot
I am struggling with my second
Her scars the “medals” from battles fought
Mine arise from feelings for her heightened

She treats me by turns
As a fool, a stool pigeon, a clown
And at times an idiot to be controlled by treatment stern
Or more often ridiculed and humiliated for the edification of the town

She hoists me up to be exhibited like in statues
In tarred finery, hugging mannequins
Prompting me to ask : Is My love for her fatuous ?
Am I doomed to be hoisted on pedestals only to be let down by my self indulgent sins

One day, like a painted and (pinned and pained) bird,
I rise on the wings of my feeling seared
I cry out both for myself and the amazon I have loved
Who across the oceans of the world has rowed

Like a ruddy and swarthy female version of Othello
Myself the male Desdemona to whom she at last consents
To relate the tales of the seas , black to yellow
Through which she has sailed up to times present
The characters whom she has met , rascals and saints
And of every hue in between
Her tales were enough to give a delicate lad like me the faints
Telling of a world beyond what he had ever seen

She wonders and marvels at my innocence
Like a diver , she means to torment and bully me out of my shell
And extract the pearls of good sense
That lies buried in my dell

At last we give way to the feelings of mutual affection and love
Between the fiery eagle and a gentle dove
A mating like that between land and sea
Each loving the other, both know “Who is me ?”
The Amazon warrior in star like hues her lover dyed
Who in pain filled ecstasy cried

Zen like In the morning after,
Things are the same fore and after,
The sun still shines, the birds still sing
But the lovers view it as the beginning of eternal spring

[sundarramchand]

This is an attempt at writing in rhyming verse after a very long time (No, i d'ont intend to change my basic style but just an attempt at this form). I did post it in other sub groups in this site but somehow it did not seem to fit in anywhere else.

I did try to make some changes so that the rhyming effect is re-inforced without detracting from the essence of the poem.

[hillwalker]

This is an attempt at writing in rhyming verse after a very long time (No, i d'ont intend to change my basic style but just an attempt at this form). I did post it in other sub groups in this site but somehow it did not seem to fit in anywhere else.

I did try to make some changes so that the rhyming effect is re-inforced without detracting from the essence of the poem.

I'll keep this response brief.

The rhyme has destroyed this poem because almost every line ends up tying itself in knots. To pick verse 3 as a quick example: no one speaks or writes English this way. Every phrase has been turned on its head to satisfy the rhyme scheme. It ends up sounding like nonsense.

H

[sundarramchand]

The latest version of the poem ;

Loving an Amazon


There she was,
The rough tomboy
Could ride the horse
And float with the buoys

This was her fourth
Of many such
Delicate ways as befits a court
And Amazonian (yet maternal and feminine) ways like a butch

A cloth around her neck tied
Her opponents like brides cried
When, Like an adventuring fisherwoman dressed
She appeared, Dagger against her breast pressed

Could gut the whale
Tame, shame and shear the recalcitrant male
Cut the wolf rabid
Yet take care of her followers avid

She takes her fifth shot
I am struggling with my second
Her scars the “medals” from battles fought
Mine arise from feelings for her heightened

She treats me by turns
As a fool, a stooge, a dodo, a clown
And at times an idiot to be controlled by treatment stern
Or more often ridiculed and humiliated for the gratification of the town

She hoists me up to be exhibited like in statues
In tarred finery, hugging mannequins
Prompting me to ask : Is My love for her fatuous ?
Am I doomed to be hoisted on pedestals only to be let down by my self indulgent sins

One day, like a painted and (pinned and pained) bird,
I rise on the wings of my feeling seared
I cry out both for myself and the amazon I have loved
Who across the oceans of the world has rowed

Like a ruddy , bronzed female version of Othello
Myself the swarthy male Desdemona to whom she at last consents
To relate the tales of the seas , black to yellow
Through which she has sailed up to times present
The characters whom she has met , rascals and saints
And of every hue in between
Her tales were enough to give a delicate lad like me the faints
Telling of a world beyond what he had ever seen

She wonders and marvels at my innocence
Like a diver , she means to torment and bully me out of my shell
And extract the pearls of good sense
That lies buried in my dell

At last we give way to the feelings of mutual affection and love
Between the fiery eagle and a gentle dove
A mating like that between land and sea
Each loving the other, both know “Who is me ?”
The Amazon warrior in star like hues her lover dyed
Who in pain filled ecstasy cried

Zen like In the morning after,
Things are the same fore and after,
The sun still shines, the birds still sing
But the lovers view it as the beginning of eternal spring





There she was,
The rough tomboy
Could ride the horse
And float with the buoys

This was her fourth
Of many such
Delicate ways as befits a court
And Amazonian (yet maternal and feminine) ways like a butch

A cloth around her neck tied
Her opponents like brides cried
When, Like an adventuring fisherwoman dressed
She appeared, Dagger against her dress pressed

Could gut the whale
Tame, shame and shear the recalcitrant male
Cut the wolf rabid
Yet take care of her followers avid

She takes her fifth shot
I am struggling with my second
Her scars the “medals” from battles fought
Mine arise from feelings for her heightened

She treats me by turns
As a fool, a stool pigeon, a clown
And at times an idiot to be controlled by treatment stern
Or more often ridiculed and humiliated for the edification of the town

She hoists me up to be exhibited like in statues
In tarred finery, hugging mannequins
Prompting me to ask : Is My love for her fatuous ?
Am I doomed to be hoisted on pedestals only to be let down by my self indulgent sins

One day, like a painted and (pinned and pained) bird,
I rise on the wings of my feeling seared
I cry out both for myself and the amazon I have loved
Who across the oceans of the world has rowed

Like a ruddy and swarthy female version of Othello
Myself the male Desdemona to whom she at last consents
To relate the tales of the seas , black to yellow
Through which she has sailed up to times present
The characters whom she has met , rascals and saints
And of every hue in between
Her tales were enough to give a delicate lad like me the faints
Telling of a world beyond what he had ever seen

She wonders and marvels at my innocence
Like a diver , she means to torment and bully me out of my shell
And extract the pearls of good sense
That lies buried in my dell

At last we give way to the feelings of mutual affection and love
Between the fiery eagle and a gentle dove
A mating like that between land and sea
Each loving the other, both know “Who is me ?”
The Amazon warrior in star like hues her lover dyed
Who in pain filled ecstasy cried

Zen like In the morning after,
Things are the same fore and after,
The sun still shines, the birds still sing
But the lovers view it as the beginning of eternal spring

[sundarramchand]

The latest version is the previous post

[sundarramchand]

If u expect to say that this is a nonsense limmerick verse of the "Ogden Nash" type, sorry , i cannot oblige you :-) !!. It may seem like a Zen Haiku / Koan meant to startle the reader into a process of probing that ends in realization. That is only partially true. This is more like a Urdu / Persian shairi with its terse , complex , emotional imagery and is imbued with meaning.

The poem seeks to tell the story of the narrators love for an amazon. his wooing of her, her initial scorn of him that later ends in love and understanding.

The first few stanzas try to describe her : Her abilities, her hard drinking etc. the third paragraph tries to depict her pugnacity. The scenario depicted is that of a knife fight where she is holding the knife to her breast to defend herself (the edge pointing away of course). The cloth around her neck (like a scarf or in the manner of gangsters) is an attempt to emphasize or reinforce the sexual aspect. the crying of opponents like brides is an attempt to show her dominance over her opponents (in large part male) and their helplessness.

The narrator is a stay at home, somewhat delicate guy but he is no puritan.

The next few paragraphs depict her bring irritated by the narrator's show of affection and her humiliating the narrator

Finally , there is a cathartic moment where the narrator breaks down and the amazon realizes the narrator's love.

Then there is the device of taking characters from Shakespeare's "Othello" and mixing of roles (a female white version of othello with a male (most possibly asiatic) version of desdemona (mixed metaphors ??). He , the stay at home poet is captivated by her journeys and his love for her increases. She also means to inspire him to excellence (in his chosen field of course) with the metaphor of the oyster being induced to secrete pearls.

The final stanzas describe the consummation of their love in allegorical terms. He is the dove , she the eagle. She is the sea , he is the land.

OK.The one sentence where i have truly taken poetic license is the sentence "Both Know who is me" . What is meant that both retain their individual identities which are enriched by their synergestic union where the whole is more than the sum of their parts. I cud have played around with I / me ./ we. But the above sounded natural.


I do agree that it may be a tad ambitious and an attempt to put in too many things and at the same time trying to rhyme.

But i guess poetry is the tightrope walk between rhyme and reason and between paradox and nonsense !!

And as i mentioned, the paradoxes are genuine because of their emotionally charged meaning

[sundarramchand]

Repetition. Hence, deleting it

[tonywalt]

I enjoyed it. Emotional and great imagery.

Update: this forum is has few active members. Curious: what made you revive this after so many years? Are you responded to Hillwalker from 2011? This is cool

[tailor STATELY]

Enjoyed... Yes: Quite ambitious. I agree with Hill to an extent (and miss his contributions). I too am/have been guilty of forced rhymes and they can be distracting; I have a number of poems I need to attend to myself.

Ta ! (short for tarradiddle),
tailor STATELY

[sundarramchand]

This was a repetition of the earlier post. Hence, deleting it

[sundarramchand]

The latest version. Actually, i was just revisiting the poem but some things grated on my poetic sensibilities. So Dotting the i's and crossing the t's. At that point, i felt i should respond to Hill Walker. After some reflection, i also decided to change the "who is me"
line

Loving an Amazon

There she was,
The rough tomboy
Could ride the horse
And float with the buoys

This was her fourth
Of many such
Delicate ways as befits a court
And Amazonian (yet maternal and feminine) ways like a butch

A cloth around her neck tied
Her opponents like brides cried
When, Like an adventuring fisherwoman dressed
She appeared, Dagger against her breast pressed

Could gut the whale
Tame, shame and shear the recalcitrant male
Cut the wolf rabid
Yet take care of her followers avid

She takes her fifth shot
I am struggling with my second
Her scars the “medals” from battles fought
Mine arise from feelings for her heightened

She treats me by turns
As a fool, a stooge, a dodo, a clown
At times an idiot to be controlled by treatment stern
Or more often ridiculed and humiliated for the edification of the town

She hoists me up to be exhibited like in statues
In tarred finery, hugging mannequins
Prompting me to ask : Is My love for her fatuous ?
Am I doomed to be hoisted on pedestals only to be let down by my self indulgent sins

One day, like a painted and (pinned and pained) bird,
I rise on the wings of my feeling seared
I cry out both for myself and the amazon I have loved
Who across the oceans of the world has rowed

Like a ruddy and bronzed female version of Othello
Myself the swarthy male Desdemona to whom she at last consents
To relate the tales of the seas , black to yellow
Through which she has sailed up to times present
The characters whom she has met , rascals and saints
And of every hue in between
Her tales were enough to give a delicate lad like me the faints
Telling of a world beyond what he had ever seen

She wonders and marvels at my innocence
Like a diver , she means to torment and bully me out of my shell
And extract the pearls of good sense
That lies buried in my dell

At last we give way to the feelings of mutual affection and love
Between the fiery eagle and a gentle dove
A mating like that between land and sea
Each loving and bound to the other, both realize that they are truly free,
As only true lovers can be.
The Amazon warrior in star like hues her lover dyed
Who in pain filled ecstasy cried

Zen like In the morning after,
Things are the same fore and after,
The sun still shines, the birds still sing
But the lovers view it as the beginning of eternal spring

[sundarramchand]

Sorry, i had replaced the edification with gratification but i guess there was a mismatch of the versions. Apologies to the readers
-----------------------------

Loving an Amazon

There she was,
The rough tomboy
Could ride the horse
And float with the buoys

This was her fourth
Of many such
Delicate ways as befits a court
And Amazonian (yet maternal and feminine) ways like a butch

A cloth around her neck tied
Her opponents like brides cried
When, Like an adventuring fisherwoman dressed
She appeared, Dagger against her breast pressed

Could gut the whale
Tame, shame and shear the recalcitrant male
Cut the wolf rabid
Yet take care of her followers avid

She takes her fifth shot
I am struggling with my second
Her scars the “medals” from battles fought
Mine arise from feelings for her heightened

She treats me by turns
As a fool, a stooge, a dodo, a clown
And at times an idiot to be controlled by treatment stern
Or more often ridiculed and humiliated for the gratification of the town

She hoists me up to be exhibited like in statues
In tarred finery, hugging mannequins
Prompting me to ask : Is My love for her fatuous ?
Am I doomed to be hoisted on pedestals only to be let down by my self indulgent sins

One day, like a painted and (pinned and pained) bird,
I rise on the wings of my feeling seared
I cry out both for myself and the amazon I have loved
Who across the oceans of the world has rowed

Like a ruddy and bronzed female version of Othello
Myself the swarthy male Desdemona to whom she at last consents
To relate the tales of the seas , black to yellow
Through which she has sailed up to times present
The characters whom she has met , rascals and saints
And of every hue in between
Her tales were enough to give a delicate lad like me the faints
Telling of a world beyond what he had ever seen

She wonders and marvels at my innocence
Like a diver , she means to torment and bully me out of my shell
And extract the pearls of good sense
That lies buried in my dell

At last we give way to the feelings of mutual affection and love
Between the fiery eagle and a gentle dove
A mating like that between land and sea
Each loving and bound to the other, both realize that they are truly free,
As only true lovers can be.
The Amazon warrior in star like hues her lover dyed
Who in pain filled ecstasy cried

Zen like In the morning after,
Things are the same fore and after,
The sun still shines, the birds still sing
But the lovers view it as the beginning of eternal spring