In Search Of The Woman

A wound that I can always feel close to my heart I’ve carried
An injury in love that I had received
Love to me was ne’er a game
But I played it as nothing more than a game
Every time a girl walked away, breaking my heart
Hesitate I did not to call her a ho’, a tart

She smelled fresh, neat, unmarked but of soap
In the room as she undressed and disrobed
In the dim, dull light that brew
The bright, dark blemish on her skin grew
Scars of previous love making rent
Every time a man hired her for his passion passing
Left his mark to notify of his animalistic craving

I watched her undulate with her craze
In love making she did not step back but raze
She sold her self, her soul; to nourish not her, but me
She did not say, but the world knew, her love was me
Never did I hold her in high deference
For me she catered to my basic preference
I always took of her as a need to sate, an impersonal mate

As we thrashed around in the culmination
The room, the breath reeked of subjugation
Tears welled and flowed as shrieks of her ardor for me
Repeated o’er and o’er ho, ho, ho, ho; that was me
My passion expended, juices went, in an ejaculation
The world was released with the orgasm
Bodies together, twined around, separate in a chasm

Rise to perceive the spent, sated face had blood in a streak
Question, what she in her passion rake
A sardonic smile, lost itself before it reached her eyes
She looked to say, in the throes of love I bit, close to your heart a bit
A woman it is on whom your love making you just expend
Not a ho, that with money you have rent
You seek the ho in every woman, but refuse to see the woman in the ho

Transfix, transformed I seek the jest
My mind from that day has had no rest
To this day I have carried this, throbbing festering wound
Torn, scratched away every scab on it, before it has formed
This raw, decaying lesion I keep close to my heart
To remind, not seek the ho in every woman, but see the woman in her

by O Sudhir Janardhanan

Other poems of JANARDHANAN (70)

Comments (4)

I recited this poem at my high school graduation in 1956.
Wow. I never knew this poem existed. And, of course, it's written so very better than I could have said it. I will now get better acquainted with the poems of Sir Henry Wotton.
THE RELIGIOUS BENT ASIDE, IS THERE A BETTER DESCRIPTION OF CHARACTER WORTHY OF EMULATION? ?
just beautiful..........