Haibun, Haiku, Life, Memory, Pain, Poem, Poetry, Verse

Haibun – Atman

Atman

Acutely aware of the hands that dig into my shoulders, the unbearable heat of a thousand flames licking my skin, the scent of sandalwood that fails to mask the smell of charred flesh, the whispers of how young she was, the slowly bleeding sun going down a banyan tree and then the certain reluctance with which they press a long wooden pole into my hand…

Almost as if this act is supposed to purge her out of my thoughts, memories, existence, breaths… I am asked to perform the rite of the skull.

early darkness –
the jagged flight of
a firefly

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Confessional Poetry, Free Form Poetry, Life, Love, Pain, Poem, Poetry, Romance, Separation, Uncategorized, Verse

In an empty house

The bed unmade in the tenor
of our last quarrel, when my guilt
shattered against a brick wall

Like the shards of a fun house mirror
the faces bloated, sucked, thin
fat, tall, short, crazy, delirious, demented

I wonder which was the real me
the dog yet un-fed, the pillow unslept
the taste of your skin undone

From moonlight and orchids
evening mist and morning dew
my fingers that caressed your song

From the trill of the last free lark
the howl of the first wild wolf
or the flicker of an old oil lamp

Could I ever distill your absence –
your presence and all that’s lost
between the two, lost between us…

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