Minneapolis to Bali
Leaving your life behind
Forgetting yourself like a good Buddhist
Reciting koans and writing more
Becoming One with the All
Amid temples and elephants
Spices and fruits
Filth and disease
So prevalent you stop seeing it
Bali to Minneapolis
A distress call from a daughter
You never stopped loving
Just stopped seeing
Not a visit
Or a note
For three years
She says
"Mom is dead. The funeral is in two days."
The old home, old neighborhood
Poor before
Full of drunks
Unemployed, blue-collared, no-collared
Now all moved out or dead
Replaced by flophouse hipsters and recent immigrants
Mostly from Somalia
Stoned now, not drunk
Home isn't home
Daughter is in "transitional housing"
One woman (her) four men
Clean house, dirty toilet
Refrigerator and basement full of mold
You shiver in the basement
Remembering Indonesian heat
Forgetting
In Minnesota, this is mild weather
Because you had forgotten everything
And everyone but your daughter
And your ex-wife (now dead)
Forgot you
One day until the funeral
Daughter is crying
So you grill out
Daddy time
It's what daddies to
You change her oil
Give her a hug
Sit through the service
And leave
Because leaving is what you do
Better than staying
Making an effort
Taking responsibility
Helping more
But she loves you anyway
Now back to Bali
Wife #2
The one who didn't drink herself to death
The one watching your new children
As your adult daughter cries
And says she understands
You could have held her
You could have cleaned her toilet
Stocked and cleaned the fridge
Helped her with her mother's things
But you left
She loved you anyway
You went to Bali to help the world
Followed Buddhism to forget the self
But
Somnambulist fool
It's been about you all along
About the Creator
Gene Lass
Gene Lass is a professional writer, writing and editing numerous books of non-fiction, poetry, and fiction. Several have been Top 100 Amazon Best Sellers. His short story, “Fence Sitter” was nominated for Best of the Net 2020.
A Busy Memory
There was sunlight skipping off the road, reflecting off of other cars, making it hard for me to know which way I was flying by. If not for focus, there's no telling where I would land. Maybe I wouldn't land at all but instead continue sailing into the sun, into the light that burns holes where my eyes used to be. I wonder how it would feel to burn up while on the way to something with mundane importance. One moment you could be full of purpose and then in the next, you are nothing more than a busy memory.
By Andi Leigh6 days ago in Poets
Lifting the Curtain to a Successful Month
April has been a fantastic month for me in terms of writing endeavors. I’d like to share what’s been so great about it just as many other writers would do. Share successes. I’ve noticed other writers or artists have shared successes and when you just see the snippet of their success, it appears everything has been going right for them all along. But we haven’t seen behind the curtain, we haven’t seen their hard work and their failures and those months that were fraught with disappointment. In everyone’s case, it’s far from the truth. But for the outside observer it isn’t always apparent.
By Stephen Kramer Avitabile6 days ago in Writers
Comments (2)
Whoaaaa, this was an emotional roller coaster ride. But there is something so peaceful about letting everything go. Loved your poem!
Fantastic!!!