Neruda, I Fail To...

Neruda, I fail to understand you, A poet or a lover or a communist or a diplomat, Who were you? I could not your shallow heart. Pablo Neruda, a mapping of your brain Shows it divided among Burma, Ceylon and Jakarta, But for what were you there? I do not understand. Neruda, you say it about a Burmese woman You had been in love with, The South Asian woman in Ceylon The pariah girl, But the Jakarta diary know I it not. Neruda, I do not understand What had it been your job, Who were you, An ambassador Cultural obviously not, but for commerce and business? What had it been you business, Admit and confess you frankly. Neruda, the world loved you, But loved I not, I saw you, but felt you it not, Just saw the portrait Taking you to be a traitor, a conspirator. A lover were you, A lover of women, A communist, A lover of women, labour stuffs and drinks, The mind you strove to know, Not the heart, the soul. Neruda, what did you hold up And for what, What were you for, Whit had it been your mission, Was it solely political or humanitarian? Neruda, the women in your life Seek I to know, to read them, Know their identities Rather than your poetry, love poetry! Maryka Antonieta Hagenaar Vogelzang, Delia del Carril, Matilde Urrutia, I have not, Their biographical notes. Neruda, a propagandist Were you, A communist agent On an espionage mission, God knows, how could you turn Into a diplomat Just writing a few poems at some young age? Neruda, what were you, Say you, A poet, A diplomat, A communist Or a lover? But frustrates me more Is this That you were a male chauvinist A sexual one As the feminists have come to grapple it. Were you, A communist agent On an espionage mission, God knows, how could you turn Into a diplomat Just writing a few poems at some young age? Neruda, how could a poet be a diplomat Without being trained An emissary or a messenger, Without having known international relations, I don't know? Even if you were a poet, Neruda, You were but a struggling poet In Ceylon, Burma, Indonesia Trying to hone in Your poetic art! Neruda, your forced love-making With a South Asian woman In Ceylon Frustrates me in reading your memoir To think, What sort of lover were you and your love! Neruda, were you a communist With a girl by your side Just as a Marxist or Leninist lives by that type of literature, Wine and womanizing So were you, Had you not a good view of women?