Promises the monsoon bring


Parched —
your stumbling sentences
are smothered by a senseless sun.
In silent sweat
we waited for the wind
we waited for the water

a day

when in the coolness
floating in a flood of words
the dust is washed away,
your lips are moist.

a day

behind the veil (your hair)
I sip the nectar
of the promises your tongue
and monsoon bring

a night.

summer monsoons by Sharon Sperry Bloom, on Flickr

summer monsoons by Sharon Sperry Bloom, on Flickr

Today Abhra takes us to the concept of Monsoon at dVerse Poetics. I have never experienced a Monsoon, but I tried to use my fantasy of what it could mean. Come join us at 3 PM EST.

June 23, 2015

34 responses to “Promises the monsoon bring

  1. a wonderful monsoon fantasy…the anticipation grows stronger with every succeeding verse. simply lovely!

  2. i have never been in one as well and guess it*s a bit scary maybe and fascinating as well…and long yearned for – esp. after a drought

  3. Nice metaphor. It is a relief – and also it is dangerous. Some countries depend on it economically, for their water and electricity – but it also takes lives. I guess the same could be said of love and lust.

  4. Love the turn from day to night…and that waiting for wind and water ~

    Admiring the build up from parched to moonsoon ~

  5. Nice take on the prompt. I like the way you have “a day” and “a night” hanging out as their own stanzas.

    I’ve never experienced a monsoon either, though we do get some really good downpours where I live.

  6. The sun IS an idiot. He thinks he’s the centerpiece of the sky’s table. But he’s wrong, isn’t he? I love the way this ends:

    “behind the veil (your hair)
    I sip the nectar
    of the promises your tongue
    and monsoon bring”

  7. These lines you wrote captured essence:

    In silent sweat
    we waited for the wind
    we waited for the water

    The waited fresh of water hitting us,
    and the wind giving us a bright world of beauty.

    I love this poem my friend.

  8. I think that for us westerners the concept of monsoon is as hard to grasp as the concept of snow for my nieces in Hong Kong. I enjoyed the sensual feel of your poem.

  9. This is like reading a ritual or rather a celebration before & after the marriage of two lovers. The waiting is rather worthwhile. Smiles.

  10. Oh.. a desert of words.. devoid in colors of deeper emotions.. living death of humans words.. ah.. hues of words gaining depth in shades of life.. words come alive with human eyes.. bright and no longer dead in life.. monsoon emotions reborn.. alive.. Endless Love..Word..:)

  11. Monsoon is a way of life for us, as far back as I can remember. I cannot equate it with love or emotion or feelings. It is very real – floods and fear and ferocious winds come to mind. Helicopters which came with relief, perhaps kids playing in dangerous waters. Death is very possible.

    But I love sitting in my corner with a book during a heavy deluge. Water everywhere, more water that you can imagine. Cooling down the earth. Washing away busy days.

  12. This is so lovely….the pic is beautiful…..the words are filled with emotions….

  13. A wonderfully rendered poem. The title is really, really good. The the first line “set-up” is a masterful “lead-in” – the note upon which the entire piece hangs.

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