Short Ronin Poems

Set in its prurient ways,

the sun strips the ronin down

in the vicious pause after—

the peasant girl stares....

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Without an empress
A poet's but a ronin
Awaiting his death
Daring monsters to slay him
While searching for his lady...

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Stone pebbles crush beneath my sandals
Bare skin welcoming warm breezes
in the aftermath of a cold shameful bath
Washing crimson away and
my soul bit by bit  Honor is the excuse
given for bloodshed
River rock and coy drink in my horrors
bear now the burden that drives these feet
upon this pebbled road...

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True patience means bearing the unbearable 


Once I 
Lived 
bushido
At Heart.
Served my lord, 
Wielding carbon
And steel
In fidelity.

Cast aside,
I have
No master now.
I will not taste 
My blade
Outcast,
I wander the
Rising sun
to know
The Way anew,
And to learn
I again 
for the first time.

I

Ronin...

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Stone pebbles crush beneath my sandals
All thoughts of passion and desire now quiet
and kept deep within me locked away for now
Duty demands my return 
pace quickening
if nothing more than distraction from myself
A return to the warrior once again
Who tramples quick and hard upon this road
as if his feet hate the earth itself...

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I have cowered I have crawled I have begged and I have survived
Honor is something that those that do no battle speak of
Shame is something dictated by those who have not survived
I have felt a shame in that which I have done
but also a love in those I have fought beside
a knowing and an understanding that
 if you do not stand beside me
you will never be allowed to judge me...

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I am nearing the endless night and my body
reminds me of it’s torture in a daily vigil
toward reprimand 
My adoration of you my love has passed
from heated loins on pillows
to passionate words on parchment
My son the weapons of war
are now wielded in words
I am old yes a gift that I did not deserve
but a treasure I shall take with me
to the next horizon
upon this pebbled road...

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Far now from harm and my own evils
I look to the blowing bamboo for absolution
Banging knocking striking each other
here and there without recourse or resolution
infinite battles with wind and rain
and peace
in times of suns warmth friends again
quiet neighbors
a moments respite before the ignorance of man
ignites a fire 
which reduces us all to ash
and I walk once again from hope to horror...

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Old age and its wisdom but
mostly luck of the draw one inch to the right
or left of the arrow that kills a comrade beside me
To be just past the flames that explode and incinerate
those unfortunate enough to be in front of me
is luck
pure and simple at the cost of dreams and desires
Narrow piercing painful eyes that have seen so much 
and wonder still why those who make war
seldom dress for battle...

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On my knees in meditation
As my enemy close in
I can see them in my minds eye
I will grant the their wish to die

So as i rise upon my feet
In their hearts they know their beat
As my sword leaves the scabbard 
As i shout my battle cry

So now in the middle of this futile fray
My sword slashing faster than the suns rays
For the murder of my master these ronin must pay
So now today is the end of their days...

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My fathers pride as well as his fathers unquestioned
and now as knife is held to top knot I question respect
Is that not the very same thing that has robbed me of my life
I have been bound to those who have dishonored me
and loved those I have disgraced
In a simple motion the top knot is cut and I am no longer bound
The sun sets and I know now that my days are
no longer in stone My story is no longer the fates to tell...

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There is a brotherhood among soldiers 
a bond a band a fellowship
that those at battle’s end speak of
I long for its connection, its embrace
Yet here you lay blood bubbling from your lips
as you try to speak to me Beg me for comfort
in your final setting sun
My hand cannot stop the rose petals that burst 
from your body with each failing breath.
In our eyes we both know the outcome
But in my heart my secret my truth
I hate the burden you have left the living...

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