Mental images
This memory won’t change,
With him or alone.
He danced in an orange glow.
Este recuerdo no va a cambiar
Si estoy con él o sola.
Él bailaba en un aura naranja.
In the beginning my haikus were mental photographs of men. To be precise they were frozen images of people I had loved, dated or had crushes on even if by the time I started writing all I had was the memory of the feeling, and my love, my lust, and the men were long gone.
This poem is a revision of the second or third haiku I ever wrote, a couple of years ago. The Elusive Poet says the original, with the first line as “Perfect, new, happy”, is better, but I disagree. Since then, the club in which this man danced in an orange glow (literally: orange lights pointed at him) has burned to the ground. Which, I think, makes the point of the poem even more important.
With him or alone.
He danced in an orange glow.
Este recuerdo no va a cambiar
Si estoy con él o sola.
Él bailaba en un aura naranja.
In the beginning my haikus were mental photographs of men. To be precise they were frozen images of people I had loved, dated or had crushes on even if by the time I started writing all I had was the memory of the feeling, and my love, my lust, and the men were long gone.
This poem is a revision of the second or third haiku I ever wrote, a couple of years ago. The Elusive Poet says the original, with the first line as “Perfect, new, happy”, is better, but I disagree. Since then, the club in which this man danced in an orange glow (literally: orange lights pointed at him) has burned to the ground. Which, I think, makes the point of the poem even more important.