The Taste

This poem is as a 21st century haibun hybrid, and just as a traditional haibun, it combines prose with haiku. In this case 2 haiku. This particular piece features an opening free verse prose stanza, complete in its thought. A closing free verse prose stanza, also complete in its thought. Then the 5 middle free verse prose stanzas, which could stand alone as a free verse poem. The overall piece flows as a whole. The two haiku are both in italics. It is offered in response to the November 26th prompt at dVerse.
 

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The Taste

~

It was an embrace
I’d wished had been endless
at our tearful farewell
your body supple and warm
pulsing with life

lips lush as cognac
open softly to kisses
urgently linger

the taste of your kiss on my lips
I passed through security
turned and fixed on your gaze
praying it was not the last time
I’d look into your beautiful eyes

I wandered dazed down the ramp
to the jet that would take me
to the fury of hell
I locked your face of love
deep in my heart

That cherished image
proved my grasp on sanity
through two years of horror
through the sting of separation
the bitter taste of war
the foul stench of death

I return this day
facing reality at 30,000 feet
the salt of sadness on my cheeks
bitter on my lips

not of my making
but I feel the guilt of war
I’m frightened to see
to touch you again
but I burn to do so
I’ve been waiting so long

so different now
my hands angry with bloodshed
innocence is lost

I fear a kiss
from my killer’s mouth
will forever defile
your precious lips
lush as sweet cognac
that day we parted.

~ ~ ~

rob kistner © 2018

  • NOTE: this piece is written with my deepest respect for the men and women who are still being sent into the teeth of hell to fight, suffer, and sometimes die. This is a heartfelt thank you for what they endure, and a quiet tear for what is so often sadly lost.
     
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    Imelda at dVerse asked us to address “waiting”. Waiting is a terrible component of war. Those in combat waiting every terrifyingly tense moment after tense moment, praying to remain safe and alive – and hoping they never need to kill someone. Then the soldiers excrutiating wait to go home. And the families, loved ones, and friends painfully waiting, not knowing if there loved one or friend will make it home. War is terribly unsettling waiting, interrupted from time to time, by pure unadulterated hell!

    More waiting at dVerse:

    https://dversepoets.com/2018/11/26/haibun-monday-waiting/

  • 51 thoughts on “The Taste”

      1. It is terrible. I lost many friends to the war in Viet Nam. They were either killed or terribly damaged emotionally by the horror. I was two years in Army Infantry Reserve Officer Training, but before being deployed “in country”, I was one of the fortunate ones to be spared by the historical Draft Lottery. I had such mixed feeling – relief, joy, guilt, sadness, anger… it was an ugly and confusing time in American history. Sadly, people continue to die in armed conflict! Will we never learn?

    1. I wonder when you make it home, how much war has taken from you… and how it is to wait back home. Luckily Sweden has not been in war for more than 200 years except as being part of peace keeping missions… so we simply have very little of this.

      1. I have lost 3 close friends to war. 2 died, and one came home do terribly damageg from the horror of what he saw and had to do, the he eventually drank himself to death. WAR IS HELL is a cold, awful, bitter fact Bjorn!

    2. A very strong message, sir. Your poem is grand, full of truth and metaphors, and I love it. I like the two haiku, and the change in the traditional haibun form–where the poetic prose stays in paragraph form, 1, 2, or 3 or them. Haibun is now one of my favorite forms, and I too have taken liberties with it at times

      1. Thank you Glenn, I appreciate the complimentary words! The prose portion of this will fall perfectly into paragraph form, which was where it began. But for me, it is way too boring visually. I liked using the two haiku to break the piece into the magic of 3rd’s. An opening stanza, complete in its thought. A closing stanza, also complete in its thought. Then the 5 middle stanzas, which could stand alone as a free verse poem. The piece, taken as a whole, is still prose and haiku. This is a modern, Washington State, 21st century Haibun… 😉

    3. A said poem and the mini poems that break it up are bittersweet. A haibun is prose that actually happened to you. the haiku are nature related. I like this as a poem. We owe a lot to our soldiers and to their families.

    4. jagged pain is all that war brings and you’ve captured the many ways of agony wrought from it. i’ve seen the wreckage that comes from it also. watched, “last flag flying” recently and it was very difficult to get through

    5. Jade, war is the human species at its worst. And waiting is a terrible component of war. Those in combat waiting every terrifyingly tense moment after tense moment, to remain safe and alive – and hoping they never need to kill someone. Then the soldiers excrutiating wait to go home. And the families, loved ones, and friends painfully waiting, not knowing if there loved one or friend will make it home. War is terribly unsettling waiting, interrupted from time to time, by pure unadulterated hell!

    6. Such a thoughtful (and painfully truthful) look at the ways in which lives are touched by the insanity that is war. So often innocent boys leave, and jaded and scarred men return. You’ve captured it so well.

    7. I teared up reading this.

      Your poem is beautiful and bittersweet. I can only imagine what courage and strength of character can make one go through this hell of war.

      Thank you for sharing this piece.

    8. Yeah, it’s important and powerful to write about the being frightened to return even as one longs to do so.
      If you head over my way you might check out “Demonstrating”. Two six sentence stories that your poem reminded me of.

      1. Thank you very much Frank… I placed the two haiku yo loosely divide the prose free verse sections of overall piece into 1st section, the farewell; the middle section relating to the time “in country”; the 3rd section bring the return.

    9. after all that waiting a person returns so changed they are afraid to spread the horror of war by touch and words, this is more than a tribute to our soldiers, men and women alike who work for peace not war but return so damaged. beautiful art of alternating haibun and haiku

      1. Humankind lives in two worlds Mary, one is peace, but a major other of those worlds is war. It can never end because it is, and will always be, big business. Sad, but true!

    10. I really felt the pain of the farewell and the pain of waiting, Rob, and it really comes through in the lines:
      ‘through the sting of separation
      the bitter taste of war
      the foul stench of death’.
      I also like the phrase ‘the salt of sadness on my cheeks’.

    11. Thank you as a wife, daughter and daughter-in-law of warriors i know how true these words are. I appreciate you portraying the sensitivity so many soldiers feel and which so often goes unexpressed. Sometimes we have got be the voice for those who would wait forever before talking about all they’ve seen and heard, felt and experienced. Your form works beautifully to express this – you make the experience described in this poem very accessible.

    12. I appreciate your comment here Christine, thank you. Overwhelming trauma is not easy to express, by the one traumatized… and war is traumatizing, on one level or another, no matter who the warrior. The difficulty to express one’s feelings, also has to do with the individual personality. Whether or not the individual expresses it well, is less important than whether the individual is being damaged by it. The warriors loved ones need to be vigilant in order to watch for signs of damage. It’s necessary, but damned difficult, especially if their has been time in combat. For safety and sanity, emotions need be compartmentalized internally. Opening those compartments can be damned hard.

    13. Dude, you nailed it. I’m no haibun expert, but you said everything that needs to be said. The survivor’s guilt, the feeling of worthlessness, the shame mixed with relief… you absolutely nailed it.

      If this is nonfiction, thank you for your service, and I hope you have found peace. If this is fiction, thank you for giving a voice to those who typically suffer in silence.

    14. I was military draft eligible in the Viet Nam era Barry. I was two years in Army Infantry Reserve Officer Training. Before I had to commit and be deployed “in country”, my Draft Lottery number gave me an option. I suffered a form of survivor’s guilt for a number of years, because a number of guys I trained with, as well as good friends, went. Many were killed, or came back suffering severe PTSD, though we did not have that diagnosis yet. Two close buddies drank themselves to ruin, one to death. That whole period of my life still haunts me, and I am 71. But I was so much more fortunate than many. The poem was an amalgamate of true stories shared among good friends.

    15. This is so powerful, moving, and yet full of beautiful lines. Thank you for sharing. I never thought of the waiting that goes on while in combat. My son-in-law is a combat veteran–deployed three times, I think, to Iraq and Afghanistan, and he does have PTSD (he discusses this openly, so it’s OK for me to disclose it). This was all before he met my daughter.

    16. I am glad it touched you Merrill. And my best to your son-in-law. That’s incredible that he is actively aware of his condition and able to tslk openly about it. That is so crucial. I had 2 good friends who came back from Viet Nam, undoubtably with PTSD. This was before it was understood. They both became alchoholics. One eventually died of an overdose of cocaine, exacerbated by his alchoholism. My other friend’s life has been in shambles. But he was finally able to get PTSD treatment from the military, but way too many years later. He is alive and trying to salvage a life at age 69.

    17. That is so sad about your friends. Son-in-law is doing well, and much improved. Thank you.
      It’s sad that PTSD hasn’t been recognized or understood till recently–though understandable, I suppose. I read a description by Dr. Benjamin Rush of a Revolution War soldier he encountered who it sounds like was definitely suffering from PTSD.

      1. There is no way Merril, that a “normal” human can be taught to kill, sent “in country” to a foreign land, where you may not even know the language, be thrown into constantly life threatening situations, and some of the most unfortunate, actually having to kill another human being – you can’t endure that without significant impact on you emotionally and mentally, no matter how intense your training to compartmentalize your experiences. A functioning human conscience will at some point, have to deal with it all sanely. That was the tragedy until recently, it was assumed that somehow their military training made them impervious to their decent humanity. Thankfully the cover has been thriwn back on PTSD! Now there is finally a focus on helping our brave soldiers reassimilate effectively back into normal society, and not have to suppress what has been described as the “guilt of war”. How sad that it took so long for, what I see as the common sense of the situation, to be embraced.

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