DYING / Poem by Ibrahim Honjo

Poem by Ibrahim Honjo
In three of my sudden deaths
I was colder than the North Pole
every time I died in fear of life
and every time at the end of an impasse
in which death was the only guest
it was disgusting in that vortex
of intoxicating fragrance and infinite blindness
smoke of a long-ago extinct fire
and unfinished loves
so it is written in books
I don’t even remember it
because I was not concerned
nor am I even now
I appeared one cool morning
wrapped in a misty tow
I appeared suddenly in a house without a foundation
everything is hung in the misty air
I did not understand the new architecture
everything was reminiscent of a gloomy autumn
filled with visits to the point of pain
which was emerging from inexhaustible love
I talked to myself
the building kept silent to exhaustion
it was disturbed by my sudden presence
I wandered far enough
nipping closeness in the bud
and the ability to think about the past
which I could not remember
simple remembering just went somewhere
so, I was pushed into the present
in which I could not anticipate
even a glimpse of the near future
I reconciled with that fact
and decided to outlive me
 Ibrahim Honjo: From my book “Bed from the Stone” published a few months ago. The book is available on amazon.

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