Cafe Royal 06/08/2018

This is a poem I wrote while I was working on my PhD in Fine Arts. I am re-posting it here today with revisions. Why? Because I have been deeply depressed and this poem suits my mood. This poem is part of my Dorian Gray series, written along with a thesis about Oscar Wilde and his times.

Cafe Royal 06/08/2018
“…your body is not a temple, it’s an amusement park. Enjoy the ride.” ― Anthony Bourdain
“The truth is rarely pure and never simple.”  – Oscar Wilde

The third cafe mocha of the morning,
the young man with the antique face
put down his cup and stared at the handsome waiters.
The Café Royal always had the most…delicious waiters.
His eye was arrested by one of the waiters
taking an absinthe to someone –
It was 11:00 am in the morning.
Surely too early for absinthe.
He spotted her.
At the table alone, grief in every inch of her body
She put down the newspaper –
Lowering it down slowly as if,
as if it were a baby or a mortally ill cat.
The waiter flamed the absinthe for her.
He said something to her.
She raised her eyes to him and then lowered them.
Picking up the absinthe,
Picking up the newspaper.
The young man with the antique face
continued to stare at her until
she looked up and saw him.
For once he was ashamed of his actions.
He stood and walked to her table.
She looked at him from head to toe
and said
Nothing.
She lowered her face again and
one of the gorgeous waiters came
with another absinthe.
Don’t, he spoke. Please don’t.
He put his hand lightly on her wrist.
I know grief he said. I know pain of loss
and heartbreak. I’ve watched my friends dying
One.
By.
One.
She put her head down and began to read the paper again.
Upside down he read:
“Anthony Bourdain, 61, found dead by suicide”
For once he was almost human.
For once he almost paid for her drinks and walked away.
Dorian Gray sighed. What the hell,
One only lives forever.
He sat down at the table and looked into her eyes.

Reeve Darney as Dorian Grey in Penny Dreadful

 

 

Haibun: June 25th

Haibun: June 25th
“It’s been an adventure. We took some casualties over the years. Things got broken. Things got lost. But I wouldn’t have missed it for the world.” Anthony Bourdain – Parts Unknown

Today would have been Tony Bourdain’s 63rd birthday. But he was dead by his own hand, hanging himself in a French bathroom. But today was a day of celebration. declared by his two closest friend – Eric Ripert and Jose Andres. So I am celebrating it in true fashion. I went to Waffle House and had a pecan waffle. This was introduced to him by Charleston chef Sean Brock. I then went to volunteer at the local food bank and soup kitchen where I have been putting in time cooking for several years. Most people do not know Tony volunteered a lot of his time – teaching, cooking, sorting foodstuff. He encouraged the lower echelons of the kitchen – dishwashers and was their most fierce advocate. After which I went home and began preparing our meal for the night – pommes frites in duck fat, steak au poivre, ceasar salad with an appetizer of uni on toast. His favorite meals seemed to be at someone’s home among the residents of the city or among the restaurant workers. So I lift a beer to you Tony. Happy birthday. You left behind many of us who knew you and loved you, although we couldn’t save you.
birthday celebrant –
another year without you –
here but sadly absent

 

Although this is from Waking Ned Devine, it is one of my favorite songs, sung at my grandfather’s funeral as his casket was taken out of the church.

#Bourdain Day

 

ko no ha no ame

Sound of leaves falling like rain is the Japanese title translated to English. Yes I know we are in the midst of hot summer *up in the northern hemisphere) but autumn is my second favorite season. I wrote this a few years ago and since it is a rainy day, I brought it from my notebook and did some work on it.

ko no ha no ame
rainy autumn day –
a burial of dead leaves
swept from branches by
bitter wind – even the crows
are silent – only the howls
of a stray dog breaks the grey
silence – I walk with the weight
of the heavens on my mind –
leaves fall – sorrow on sorrow.

 

 

The Moon in my Yard

Today at ReaL Toads, #30 in 30, Sanaa is giving us the The A L’ Arora, a form created by Laura Lamarca consists of eight lined stanzas. The rhyme scheme is a, b, c, d, e, f, g, f with no syllable count per line and the minimum length for the poem is 4 stanzas with no maximum length stipulation. You can also opt to write one or two stanzas in case you find the length a bit overwhelming. I chose two stanzas hoping to keep this short.

The Moon in my Yard
My yard is bathed in cold silver light,
the moon looks down at me, I look back.
Sitting on my steps I watch ragged clouds ghost
across its cold face.
In daylight, clusters of wisteria hang in
fragrant fountains of lavender.
Tonight in moonlight, they are white shrouds
hanging limp and torn.

No full moon madness here.
Only melancholy sighs and empty musings.
What was is vanished.
Whited out by moonlight, colored dreams
morph into pale wraiths
of what was and is no more,
what is and nothing more.
Truth and cold light.

fair use

The Errant Stars

For Kerry’s Prompt over at Real Toads – Camera Flash!  I will also be posting this on Poetry Pantry.

 

The Errant Stars
On the other side of twilight
errant stars begin to twinkle
in the bloodstained West –
A feeling of grey covers the earth
and birds go silent.
The wind sloughs across
the fields of gold
the same way it blows over the sea.
The wheat ripples
and the sound is like
that of the sea.
A silver ribbon stream sings its way
to the bottom of the hill,
reflecting the silent sky.
But birds are quiet now
and errant stars twinkle in
the bloodstained west –
And grey turns to black
over the murmuring sea.

Crepuscule – Heinrich Kuhn (1897)

dVerse Poetics: Time

Today, Tuesday Poetics, Lillian wishes us to write about time – I had the time of my life, it’s about time to go! As long as we write about time and use the word time, we should be fine.  Sorry for the sad poem.  My mother is with me now and is slowly dying of Alzheimer’s and complications.  Tomorrow we discuss hospice.  It is a grey day in December.  Rain slowly drips.

Trees and Time
death knows no seasons –
death cares not about Christmas lights
or spring flowers or summer tomatoes.
death watches the first snow falling
and looks at the trees,
bare of leaves and rising like bones
in shades of grey and sepia.
death only knows when it is time…
and moves on.

copyright kanzensakura

Pewter Landscape III

This is the final poem in the series taken from my tanka, Pewter Landscape, with lines from the tanka used in each poem. The quote line is from Shakespeare’s Richard the Third, act one, scene one, 1-4.

December night sky –
snow like frozen stars, silent
as dust falls to earth.
no wishes on these stars, no dreams.
line of black trees
separating white snow from pewter sky.
ghostly landscape sleeps.
summer photograph fades with time.
“the winter of our discontent”…
hopes become buried in the ocean of snow.

i miss the snow on my page

Christmas decorations taken down,
Back in their boxes
for another year.
dark winter envelops,
at night, only lights from
stalled traffic and fast food
joints add artificial festivities.
Houses plain again,
yellow light from windows
– no more candles in windows
or twinkles from
Christmas trees beckon
a welcome.
Stale cookies dumped
into the trash or
flung out into the yard
for birds and squirrels.
I look out and sigh.
sunny day, clear blue sky.
The limbo between brown lawns
and blooming plum trees
stretches like an endless
road in the desert
diasappearing into
a bleak horizon.
and even on my website
the holiday snow has
stopped blowing
across the page –
that bit of whimsy
just….gone.
I want the power
to stop or start the snow again.
I want the light again.
I want the darkness
to turn into dawn.

I Go To Extremes: Rollercoaster of Life

I think I’m going to call June and July The Months of Extremes.  I’ve been energized and exhausted. Happy and Heartbroken, Sane and Depressed, Sharp as a katana and numb as a cube of ice.

I started the day off elated.  got my mid-term exams results and aced them.  Twenty minutes later, anxious and sad – a call my 84 year old mother was admitted to the hospital yesterday and tons of tests being run.  She’s in Florida, I’m up here.

So I’m milling around my kitchen cooking like a crazy tornado lady – when sad/anxious/depressed/afraid – I cook.
This song came on the radio and hit the nail on the head – I Go To Extremes….don’t know what’s ahead at this point. I just know it is another round on the rollercoaster of life.

 

 

My BIG decision…

It was from hell week at work- again….my boss who is almost (not quite. I’m older and have clocked in my time with this) as arrogant as I, pushed every button in my psyche he could put his hands on.  I’ve been battling with my depression over the past few weeks and my resistance was low.  I didn’t blow but I really wanted to.

After going to church today and hearing a toe (mine) stomping sermon about anger and hearing Beni do his magic with a song, I made a big decision.  Afterwards at the church dinner, I hung out with the teens and introduced the girls to sugar and butter delicious Takeshi Kaneshiro and having lunch with them, I left church and went to the Japanese Garden to visit the nishikigoi.  I’ll clarify something……The gorgeous actor was not with me.  I just happened to mention, while they were talking about hot guys, this wonderful actor and reeled off a half dozen of his movies for them.

Anyway, while teasing the nishikigoi with a few chopped grapes, I went all quiet inside myself.  I just raised a white flag and surrendered my anger at my boss and my situation.  I took the target off my back and the “Easy Button” off my soul.  I had a talk with Jesus, told him all my troubles, took them out of my IN basket and put them in His.  I’m a control freak.  It was hard and I imagine I’ll need a reminder.

But today, I decided I am back in control of my life – not the government, not my boss, not my gossipy co-workers, not my passive husband, not my mother, not my cat (we all know though there is no snooze alarm on a cat who wants his breakfast).

I am going to start flexing my faith muscle again – it’s gotten flabby over the past couple of weeks.  I’ve been listening to some old 8 track tapes that say over and over again – you’re a failure.  You aren’t pretty.  You aren’t smart enough.  You never became what my father and I wanted you to be.  You aren’t a typical woman – you aren’t the wife I thought I could make you become.  You are old and useless.  You have accomplished nothing.  Your father would be ashamed……I’m sorry. I’ve installed a new soundsystem and these tapes don’t work in the new one.

I understand particle physics.  I know about string theory.  I’m a mean Kendo partner.  I spar full tilt.  I am kind to animals.  Even herons will eat from my hand.  I am a supportive and loyal friend.  I have become a woman who can ballroom dance (I am an excellent tango-er) and I have three – yes three different Star Trek uniforms in my closet.  I have attained commander status.  I know more about cooking and cooking history and cooking chemistry than any one human should know.  I had an amazing and incredible love in my life.  I can smell snow when it is coming.  I am going to teach the teens how to make various types of sushi.

And to top off all of these amazing things, I have as my friend, the Lord Jesus Christ.  He loves me and all He wants me to do is sit at His feet and learn from Him and be loved by Him.  He doesn’t give pop quizzes or call me out in front of the class.  I am precious in His sight.

His will has become my will.  He doesn’t call me to anything great or noble or amazing…..He doesn’t say I have to be a doctor, or lawyer, or engineer, or pretty, or a stay at home mom, or a preacher….He just calls me to love others as He loves me.  It’s a hard job and it is one that can’t be done while harboring anger and carrying toxic baggage.

So that is my decision for today – God bless you all on your journies as you find what it is you need.  I know a great nishikigoi pond to hang out by.  It is open 24/7/365…

Nights in White Satin – For 雅

I did not write this song, but I wish I did….A song from my misspent youth.  It is in my mind today.  The song was performed b the Moody Blues.  It is not printed in its entirety – only what keeps playing in my head.  The music is haunting and sometimes wistful, other times dramatic

Nights in white satin,

Never reaching the end.

Letters I’ve written, never meaning to send.

Beauty I’d always missed

With these eyes before.

Just what the truth is

I can’t say anymore.

’cause I love you. Oh how I love you.

UnCivil War: Familes, Funerals….and Hope

Monday night, a childhood friend died of cancer.  I was therefore extremely surprised (although why, I am not sure) when his sister called to tell me in a solemn voice, that I was “invited” to his wake, reception after the funeral,  and would I be among some specially chosen people to “say a few words.”  JT had not only converted to Buddhism in his 20’s, he had also told all and sundry, including his lawyer of his funeral plans:  none.  He didn’t want a funeral – just to be cremated and his ashes taken to Nag’s Head and scattered.  His significant other of 20 years had agreed with his choice and although she told me she’d like to do “something”, she was not going to do the funeral thing.  Maybe a picnic in the spring.  Nice.

I told Isabelle (or Isa as JT called his elder sister…because she…Isa  and he would fill in the blanks), thank you but I was following JT’s wishes and would not be around for the circus she had planned.  Well, not in those words of course….Now comes the guilt pumps:  But you and he were like brother and sister,  like twins, like the same side of a coin and until that Oriental guy came along, we always assumed the two of you would marry!  boohoo.  I told her how sad it was and all that, repeated my intention to not come and to respect my dear friend’s wishes.  And that by the way, the Asian man is Japanese.

The middle brother Meade, is an average guy, a truly nice guy – an engineer who ran away from home years ago to Arizona.  I had had a dreadful crush on him when I was in junior high.  I called Meade to see how he was doing.  Apart from being angry at Isa (because she Isa – YOU fill in the blanks), he was sad but had seen JT at Christmas and had a good visit.  Isa refused to come by because Meade is gay and brought his longtime partner – another nice guy.

Things like this, and here I am being a pessimist, seem to bring out the mean in people.  JT and Isa had never gotten along.  Now she was finally able to get back at  him by taking control of this.  At this point, I am appalled.  I have seen this happen in families repeatedly through the years. You got the best of mama’s stuff, you made out like a bandit, I took care of him and where were you????

Being a long time battler of chronic depression, and on the point of going into one of those depressions, makes all of this surreal.  I feel myself sliding into that abyss, grabbing on to roots, branches, rocks….anything to keep myself on the edge and not over the edge.  I’m getting ready to go to church.  Today my Bible promise was:  Jeremiah 29:13 You shall seek me, and find me, when you shall search for me with all your heart.

It reminds me of a loving Savior that will not let me go over the edge, who will take my hands and hold me tightly.  The sun is shining brightly.  It is cold but it is after all, winter.  My promise verse reminds me of when I had cancer and how I was held and kept safe and loved…..You shall seek me, and find me…..

So…..in spite of it all, I am going to continue to hope and believe and trust.  I think I just now had my “funeral” for JT.  Music was his first and last love and it held him and sustained him.  I’m grateful my Lord Jesus holds and sustains me, in spite of families, depression.