Loving an Amazon  
by Sundar Ramchandran / zenkalidas / India guy


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
Like an adventuring fisherwoman dressed
Dagger against her dress pressed 
Her  opponents like brides cried

Could gut the whale 
And cut the wolf rabid
Take care of her followers avid
Yet tame and shear the recalcitrant male

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
A mating like that between land and sea 
Between the fiery eagle and a gentle dove
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