19 May 2010

Che and me (many encounters)

There’s no denying
Life amidst the trees did not do for you
Nor did the  
poster filled room , of rock bands ,
poems &  photos of Cuba
for me

The day when hordes invaded
Hungry flames  , black smoke
Blood on the street
You hung from my wall
(In white background , black frame )
And proclaimed
“A small price to pay for a greater cause”
You che
With your mystique
Green barret
& Rolex
You said that
And I, may be  naïve as I was
believed you 

May be it was in another life ago
May be it was a day more

Though in the forest  it brews
The autumn breeze carries the scent of a revolution to the city
Be it Havana , Beijing, Moscow, Caracas or Colombo
revolutions quintessentially are urbane things
born in the hearts  of  working men
Yet needs a city to draw air to breathe
to settle  in to lifestyles
much alike the T shirt with your face sketched
on the young man singing Beatles' songs
in the Metro
 The day I stepped out
still embriatted with the sermons
I remember  asking  you Che
How will this end
will it change this time
You said
I don’t know padre
for I am already dead.

May be it was 10 years  ago
May be  it was a day more
Strolling down the memory lane
 in the souvenir shop
under the amber glaze 
on a match box I saw your face
there you were  , Che
in Mao’s town
 , stacked  between Mary Jane  ,&  Sophia Loraine
“40  for six
The matches come free “
the sales girl said
Yet , I walked a way
 it felt a tad too much
to pay
for a revolutionary
(so I got a tattoo instead)

May it was weeks  ago
May be it was a day more

PS: Che, for me was a Hero. An enigma . A fad. And now settled at as an interesting concept.
The photo credits to an unknown photographer and good old google.
This piece is still work in progress, so any suggestions are most welcome

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