Epic Poem: Prodigal Orphan (56 connected haiku)

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All my bridges burned 
it’s no one’s fault but my own
Prodigal orphan

I was a loner
since the age of 1 years old
inconsolable

Where is my mother?
Father, brother and sister?
Why did they leave me?

What happened to them?
They left in the summertime
shimmering on wings

wings of an airplane
Mother mother mother please!
Don’t leave me, don’t leave

Vision blurring wrong
waterfall heart tsunami
baby’s breath starling

No words, pre-verbal
infantile telepathy
desperation lake
Can’t you hear me plead?
howling bawling begging weep
pouring primal rain

I waited for them
for their never—-to return
that was the first burn

That was the first bridge
that I would disassemble
my first glass castle

no one can enter
bright quick to reject you first
Queen of solitaire

Why was it just me?
what did I do wrong, tell me—-
why did you hate me?
They left together 
they kept me with grandmother
who was a stranger

that I grew to love
she drank and sang and gambled
changed my soiled diapers

We slept on the floor
on thick Korean blankets
our shared treasure nest

She was my shelter
I readapted to her
rebuilt trust with her

for 2 or 3 years
she was my sun, stars and moon
she was my cocoon

Surrogate mother
who carried me on her back
like a pearled knapsack

She taught me to speak
taught me to walk, run, bow
taught me reverence

Birth to 3 is key
holds elements of safety
she was my blanket

refuge from the storm
called me, “agga” and “eggy”
I was her baby

washed my tiny face
restored my faith, saving grace
fed me hand to mouth

tiny spoons of rice
kimchee cut into rivers
steamed eggs, tofu soup

no one else but her
she was my everything good
no one but Grandma

Planet Halmoni
could make a feast from nothing
she survived a war

lawns were edible
she could pick a green field clean
make food from acorns

She sang mourning songs
Arirang, lost lover balm
widowed so early

She raised four daughters
that’s what made her drink so much
sorrow courted us

Proof in photographs
my expressions looked so lost
tragedy can’t hide

Curled hair in pigtails
bowl cut bangs, red shined sandals
large eyes and dimples

Why did they leave me?
why wasn’t I good enough?
did I cry too much?

Then one fatal day
Grandma said, “Let’s take a trip
to America

visit family—-
Don’t you miss your family?”
I think I said, “No—-“

“YOU’RE my family!”
“Don’t you want to see Uhm mah?”
(Uhm mah means mother)

So we packed our bags
we even brought our blankets
for the brief visit

We boarded the plane
ears popped, I hate aeroplanes
strangers greeted me

crying and hugging
staring at me and laughing
everytime I spoke

words jumped down my throat
Why are they always laughing
trying to touch me?

I hate attention
it feels like criticism
stop looking at me

“Grandma”, I shouted
“That girl is touching OUR things!
stealing our blanket!”

“No, that’s your sister
she loves you, that’s your brother
mother and father.”

I became restless
I was homesick for our home
sliding door and mats

“When can we go home?
we visited family—-
now let’s go back home.”

“Baby, you are HOME.
This isn’t a short visit
I brought you back home.”

“Here’s where you belong
I’m the one that’s visiting
I have to return.”

After grandma left
my heart hollowed out fully
it’s numb to this day

No one can touch me
I died and went far away
shell of me remained

when grandma left me
all the birds in my heart wept
never to return

What did I do wrong
Why does love always grieve me?
abandoned orphan

After grandma left
I stopped speaking Korean
she taught me those words

I slept on the floor
alone with our shared blanket
my trust followed her

like a lost puppy
my tears solved nothing, just burned
the hole in my heart

That’s why they left me
that heart murmur orphaned me
which still hasn’t closed

and only God knows
how long I’ll be on this road
solitary rose

Every bridge I burn
expert of self-sabotage
every bond broken

It’s my private cross
my self-made burden of loss
prodigal orphan.

4 Comments

  1. Powerfully written variations of haiku of the first few years of your life.
    Sad and poignant.
    It’s like you’ve been living the life of Job since your very earliest days.
    It sounds like you’ve been a very intelligent, observant and sensitive person since the very first days of life (which is the mark of a true artist).
    Not understanding why your family went and left you behind.
    Your young imagination struggled with that.
    Then you formed a bond with your grandmother.
    Then she brought you to America and she left after being the center of your universe so long.
    I don’t know whether you are initially the architect of burning bridges.
    Life has been rough towards you from the beginning.
    And from the beginning you’ve been struggling to make sense of it all.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thank you, Christopher. It was a very long poem, (the opposite of haiku!) but you read it all ❤️ with kindness and sensitivity ❤️. I sometimes wonder if sorrow/trauma early in life is intentional, to create the artist path? But no, other’s deal with the same trauma differently so that erases that theory! Job went through worse 🙂 but my baby heart got crumpled very early. I’m going to have a long cry and hug with God when it’s my time to leave this dream called life. You’re a good friend to me, thank you🌸

      Liked by 1 person

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