That's me!
Ronid Chingangbam *
If you find a drunkard
In the mist of winter morning
With sleepy eyes walking
Towards the bank of Imphal River.
It is me.
If you hear another poet reciting
Poetry in the middle of the market,
Criticizing how full is your pocket,
Laughing at your dirty teeth,
That's not another Ginsberg.
That's me .
If you listen a rickshaw puller crying
In a mid-summer day
With his torn hat of hays
Sitting on the smelly wet leather saddle
That's not a cry or a new fable
That's me singing
Imitating the Fascists' Killer
If you see a beggar walking
With bare toes on summer's heated road
With no coins inside his pot
That's me feeling love of this land
That's me letting the world go ahead
That's me getting rid from the bullets
If you find a tree
With no leaves in spring
With no birds on its branches
That's me
Being cursed for all the poems
I have written for the truth.
* Poem written by Ronid Chingangbam (Akhu) . You can contact the poet at ronidchi(at)gmail(dot)com . This poem was webcasted on July 25, 2008.
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