Moon sits low
above solemn pines.
The night is cold.
As dawn breaks
the geisha kneels, waiting.
Plum tea kimono wraps
her tightly-
white would be right
color of mourning,
color of death.
Her lover, disgraced
has embraced
Death-
blood the sacrifice
to wipe clean a
particular stain.
She to follow
Honor fulfilled,
death follows death
rigid path of decree.
A life mostly of sorrow.
Opening her gown,
she exposes white skin,
her maid, quietly weeps
slides back the shoji
exposing a winter landscape-
white snow on rocks
white snow like her skin
soft, soon to disappear,
one to melt,
one to white ash.
Yes, life mostly of sorrow.
Outside
winter is silent,
no wind at all,
snow falling like silken petals
Ah! She will never see spring
or cherry blossom time!
Floating over muted,
glassine air
comes the sound-
two monks
playing flutes
welcome the day.
Shakuhachi artists,
mournful sound,
sound that brings
peace to an anxious heart.
She bows her head,
picks up the tanto-
and opens the vein.
Blood of her line
answers to that
of another.
Life.
So full of sorrow.
—
Jane Kohut-Bartels
Copyrighted, 2015
A tanto is a short knife. A woman would not cut her abdomen (seppuku), but would open the main vein in her neck. She would have tied together her legs at the knees, over her kimono, so she would face death with modesty.
Tags: death, dversepoets.com, geisha, honor, shakuhachi
Lady Nyo's Weblog 
October 5, 2017 at 7:42 pm
You really capture this… the obligation to death, honor and sorrow. Why is death so beautiful? Why is blood on snow so peaceful?
Sorrow indeed. Love the story, so sad it had to be.
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October 5, 2017 at 7:43 pm
Very sorrowful. You described that well. I can imagine her thinking all of that.
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October 5, 2017 at 7:50 pm
Hi Frank. thank you for reading and your comment. It’s a very complex culture, and of course this doesn’t reflect the most recent times. More of a century ago or so. Sometimes you can get swallowed up in the sadness of a culture. And the Japanese culture is known for this and more.
“The world of dew is a world of dew,
and yet, and yet”.
Kobayashi Issa (1763-1828)
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October 5, 2017 at 7:52 pm
Hi Jane! Lovely to see you at the bar this evening. I haven’t read a poem about a geisha in a long time and yours is gorgeous. I love the way you set the scene in the first two stanzas, The repetition of ‘white’ is the stanza beginning ”Opening her gown, / she exposes white skin’ is very effective and very chilling. Such sadness in the lines:
‘Ah! She will never see spring
or cherry blossom time!’
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October 5, 2017 at 7:55 pm
Hi Brother Bjorn. The obligation to honor comes with death and sorrow. Is death so beautiful? If your life is hemmed in with death, perhaps it takes on a different philosophy. And culture that suffers earthquakes at such a level is bound to be rather….fatalistic. I don’t know but I have been reading many first hand accounts of samurai deaths, etc. lately. Bummer.
Blood on Snow? the contrasts, so startling they shock to the core.
Seppuku is so different (men’s death) than the women’s death, but all the same in the end.
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October 5, 2017 at 8:24 pm
Hi Kim….lost my reply…so here goes again. This poem seems fit for the present situation here in the states. A time of mourning, disbelief and just…sadness. My favorite poem of all time is from Izumi Shikibu about her daughter who died and was cremated.
“Why did you vanish
into empty sky?
Even the fragile snow,
when it falls,
falls into this world.”
That is a heartbreaker. I’ll be over tomorrow early, Kim, my eyes are shot today. Bless you.
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October 5, 2017 at 8:30 pm
Truly lovely Jane.. I think one of the reasons I love snow so much is because of Izumi Shikibu. I am also glad you gave the definition of seppuku for folks so they could understand this better.
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October 5, 2017 at 8:45 pm
Hello, Toni! So glad you caught this poem. It’s sad, but life is sad, neh? Ah, Izumi Shikibu and Ono no Komachi. It’s a struggle to decide I like best as a poet, but I think Izumi wins. This poem about her daughter Naishi just folds me over.
Seppuku. Read years ago a first hand account of this ritual suicide for men. By an European observer there. Ugh. Pretty ghastly. That second is worth his weight in gold. I forget the Japanese for women’s suicide, (jigai?) but it certainly is different. Same end result, though. Thank you, my dear friend for reading and your insightful comment. I’ll be over tomorrow. Today I have to get supplies for the coming storm….I hope it’s a ‘much todo about nothin” event, but I think we are in the direct line of fire. Should be more of a tropical storm, though. Those two days of no power with the lashings of Irma ..and we saw looters in our neighborhood. This time? God Help Us. But at least the solar lights work outside. LOL!
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October 5, 2017 at 9:01 pm
stunning poetry
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October 5, 2017 at 9:27 pm
The doctor has now cleared me for an hour a day on the puter….and that means I get to go see Bladerunner 2049 Monday. Joy.
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October 5, 2017 at 9:28 pm
Heartbreakingly poignant, and so full of sabi! A masterpiece!
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October 6, 2017 at 12:10 am
You are too kind, Frank. If this is a masterpiece I have peaked too early! LOL! I wrote a longer version in 2009, when I began my Japanese studies. I did write it listening to Shakuhachi flutes, and this did show the path into the poem. Perhaps it could also be described as the ‘wabi’ of the poem. Something of structure. I believe this can be best grasped or understood in music or art. But that’s just me. Others have a deeper understanding, a spiritual understanding of these terms.
As to sabi? I wrote this before I had heard of sabi. I think it was again the flutes that created a ‘serene melancholy’. The sadness, the melancholy of the poem, the geisha’s plight lends to sabi easily.
Well, thank you, Frank. We learn as we go.
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October 6, 2017 at 12:11 am
LOL! Crazy woman…..
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October 6, 2017 at 12:16 am
hello Maureen! Thank you so much for reading and your comment. It does strike an edge, and considering that I had originally written this the first year of my writing poetry….I am impressed! LOL! I think though…I’ve peaked! LOL!
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October 6, 2017 at 8:27 am
This seems to capture so well what it describes. I love that sense of time/place/ honour. What beautiful language. And the pacing, I felt like I was immersed in that world… ‘glassine’ – divine.
Floating over muted,
glassine air
comes the sound-
two monks
playing flutes
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October 6, 2017 at 8:50 am
those early writings often hold a freshness that we can lose…
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October 6, 2017 at 9:51 am
Thank you for sharing your writing process regarding this poem. I enjoy learning new aspects of haikai poetry and it’s creation. And this one has that feel. 😀
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October 6, 2017 at 11:58 am
Thank you, Frank. Me, too…poetry expands life!
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October 6, 2017 at 11:59 am
That’s the truth, Maureen! I don’t think I can get that back again. Perhaps we get too complex for our own (and poetry’s) good.
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October 6, 2017 at 12:01 pm
Thank you, D-Claire. I think it was the music that set the mood. It’s a sad and common story , hopefully one that has passed into the mists.
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October 7, 2017 at 10:22 am
Transported me, albeit momentarily, to another time and place and for that I must thank you.I think there is a different kind of sadness envisioned here. They were conscious of what they were doing. I am not so sure we are.
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October 7, 2017 at 1:56 pm
Hi Paul! Thank you for reading and your insightful comment. Yes. I think you are right: they were conscious of their actions, we aren’t. Poetry always surprises me, in its abilities to move us and scramble our existence, even for short time.
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October 11, 2017 at 9:41 pm
You can tell you have knowledge of Japanese Culture. As I was reading your wonderful but sad love and death poem, I felt As if I was witnessing her death in my mind. Truly, a wonderful poem Jane
Hugs
Connie
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October 11, 2017 at 10:47 pm
Thank you, Connie. That is so kind of you. I have only been really studying Japanese culture for 10 years and it takes a lifetime for any culture. I find it demands a shift in the mind, the processing….but it does teach one something. Thank you so much, Connie. My very best to you!
Hugs,
Jane
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