The Geisha

 

The tragedy in Japan continues.

I wrote this short poem listening to Shakuhachi artists. The sound of their intertwining flutes, poignant, heartbreaking, set this poem going. The raw, alien nature of their music was transporting, bringing peace.

 

 Lady Nyo

–

 

The Geisha

 

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

to 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

“The Geisha”, Posted for OneShotPoetry….

 

Geisha Exit Ritual, lipservice.com

I wrote this short poem listening to Shakuhachi artists. The sound of their intertwining flutes, poignant, heartbreaking, set this poem in motion.  The raw, alien nature of their music was transporting.

There are a few issues to explain.  This is a ritual suicide, (for women, called jigai) not uncommon in feudal and even modern Japan. A geisha, an entertainer, could take lovers, and even become a favored member of a family.  This geisha has decided to follow her disgraced lover into death.  However, she is wearing a kimono that is not ‘proper’ for a ritual suicide.  I think she does this to embarrass the officials. Perhaps it is a personal protest. The tea ceremony is imbued with its own ritual and I link these two together.

Depending on the original offense of her lover, his death and the death of part of his family would restore the honor of the family.  She chose to sacrifice her life for his honor.

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 have some modesty in death.

Lady Nyo

–

The Geisha

–

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.

–

She opens her gown,

exposes white skin,

her maid, quietly weeps

opens 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

to 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.

–

janekohutbartels

Copyrighted, 2008,2010