Saint, Sinner, Lover Poem by Souren Mondal

'A plague upon you, murderers, traitors all!
I might have sav'd her; now she's gone for
ever.'
[ King Lear,5.3.269-271]

1. Fish and Water

It is said that the soul is like a fish
and body water,
each entirely different from each other
and yet dependant – the fish on the water
that is.

So it holds for You and I,

I am the fish You are the Water,
I exist on You and live upon
You.

And now that you are gone,
I do not really live but survive
like a Betta

But I know one day,
I will gradually lose it all
My struggle for existence without you
will be meaningless,
futile,
and one day I will die

But even in death
I shall find no Moksha,
will not be united with the
One
since it’s You - - You are the
One


2. The Addict

I have three addictions - - a woman,
Cigarettes and Alcohol.

I loved all three until I left
alcohol for the doctors said that I had
a minor hepatogamy

That was half a year ago
Before that I used to drink a glass of alcohol
every night with three cigarettes in half an hours’ time
playing Decoder Ring’s “More than Scarlet” on repeat
in an empty room with a candle
burning,

flickering lights - - flickering memories
of You

It is an interesting combination - - Old Monk,
Silk Cuts and You - - Your memories – all of
them run
in my blood,

A fine exotic Cocktail that my heart pumps
and drives to all my cells.

Rotten Cells that imprison me

And I lean languidly upon a bed of dust mites and sandalwood
Resting my head on my left hand,
with manuscripts of my love poems for You
lying around the floor of scorpions.

I am chained in addictions - - You, nicotine
and the unpurged alcohol in my veins.

All of it in this body and soul – addicted and rotten.


3.To Neena with Love

When all things fall apart we look for Love,
When life becomes too heavy to bear we look for Love,
When Love becomes too much to be taken care of
I look at you - - Neena - - my Girl with the Glasses,
my woman of no importance,
my greatest addiction

my glass butterfly with beautiful stripes of
China,

Transparent yet opaque,

So confidently insecure,
so possessive of me,

Neena,
you are the subject of all my nightmares
You are the dream I had dreamt of since I learnt
how to dream.

I am a poet who loved you,
I am the lover whom you converted into a poet.

I am a man with your memories,
I am a man with dreams and nightmares,

I am nothing but a mad Lover,
My poetry is in madness
I am nothing but a reflection of yours.




My sins are long - - I desired you in
my dreams,
Fondled each contour of your curvy, beautiful body
with the devotion of a worshipper.

Your naked body, free from all inhibition,
pure and pristine
have flashed a thousand times before me

And I wanted to unite with you,
make love to you with the tenderness
and devotion that Michelangelo
might have shown when he painted
the Sistine Chapel’s ceiling…

I would have made each move with care
and passion mixed in equal proportion
with sheer passion,
choosing them like Tagore chose his words
for his lyrics and songs

Kiss your pink, soft, wet lips
when we would have united in
Stark nakedness of our souls.

And our moans would have been like
Beethoven’s symphonies - - masterpieces - -
works of art.

This was my love for you Neena
- - You and I - - together - - in pure sin of Love
- - together - - till death do us part.

And that Love
would have brought to earth
an Angelic soul - - perhaps
a little Neena,
who would have asked me for
kisses and cuddles
and bedtime stories

And I would have told her our story
- - You and I - - how it all came to be…

And if anyone asks me the question
today I will say only one thing and never stop
until my Chain-smoked lungs burst up - -

“I do. I do. I do. I do.” …

Adieu,
Adieu,
À dieu,
Adieu…
















Souren Mondal
October 11,2015