Axis & Allies - damowords

Indiana Byron
Gorgeous Coromandel, crown prince of coasts,
My wanderlust has earnʹd thine ancyent treats,
Meagre are glimpses of the Gallic ghosts
Dwelt within this grid of well ponderʹd streets;
An antique chair,
Deep tannʹd Gendarmerie,
All that retains the air transported from Paris.
Discovering rare poetry
Is the poetʹs shooting star,
Like at Kannayakamari
Where stands Thirruvallavar,
Sri Aurobinoʹs Savitri,
On gand Miltonic par,
Words wonderful, more wondrous to behold
Than Cortez did with Moctezuma’s gold.
I wafted in on inland scent
& left by soft, sea breeze,
Before I went...bemustachʹd gent...
ʺA cool kingfisher please!ʺ
I nearly pissʹd myself when he hissʹd, ʺTwenty six rupees!ʺ
Pondicherry
Madras
My driver sure donʹt know the highway code,
Thro vast, suburban, lawless sprawl haring,
Thirty kilometres of ribbon road,
Shops, neon signs & chi stalls commingling;
A diffʹrent class
Of Indian City,
Formally Queen Madras, maid of an English sea.
Into the caves of Mylapore
Hot blood gusht from the doubter,
Dragging himself across the floor...
Savage loin‐cladded hunter
Hath thrust a spear into his core...
Whispering last prayer
He saw the sweet beatific & he cried,
ʺThou art fulfillʹd...ʺ the martyr smiled & died.
By Fort Saint George such church stands tall
As English as the Downs,
On sacred wall writ the roll call
Of heroes & of towns,
When Londonʹs lackeys grapplʹd with & topplʹd Hindu
crowns.
Chennai