“Terminal Wasteland?” tells about my relationship with a partner from 2006 – 2017. It began as two broken and lonely people desperately seeking warmth in what seemed at the time a very cold world. Each of us had heavy loads of baggage that we sort of just hurled into the corner and forgot about, so wrapped up we were with each other; parched souls that had found oasis. Our extended vacation from the cold and from our forgotten flaws restored belief in a higher power’s benevolence.
Nobody can live in play land forever. Once we returned we began noticing stuff from the bags had crept out and were laying everywhere. What had first seemed like willful folly in trading away common sense for mindless hedonistic companionship took a more sinister turn when the red flags couldn’t be rationalized away anymore. It’s funny how a person can convince themselves of just about anything in order to avoid the truth of a situation.
We parted on uncomfortable terms, each curled and trembling in our respective suitcases. The relationship’s epilogue in the poem hints that, even though we two broken souls mucked it up terribly, we could choose to become healthier and choose healthier partners next time.
Long hot summer turns
Fall, then winter’s frozen tears;
Spring hopes emerging.
Kim from North Norfolk is today’s host of dVerse. Kim says:
For my challenge, I ask you to go back into your archives to search for an autobiographical poem, one of which you are particularly fond or one that lends itself to the task in hand. Write a prose background to your chosen poem, giving us more details of when and where it happened, who else was involved, the how and the why, including a link to the original poem if you wish, and then sum up the poem in a haiku. Aim to write no more than three tight paragraphs, followed by a traditional haiku that includes reference to the season.
Tao Talk 
The photograph by Toni Frissell is appropriately atmospheric, Lisa – I like black and white photography. I missed out on ‘Terminal Wasteland’ the first time around, as I had taken time out to do my seasonal work as an examiner, so thank you for the opportunity to read it today. I really like the unusual rhyme scheme of rhyming and slant-rhyming couplets. The haibun gave me insight into those ’broken and lonely people desperately seeking warmth with each other in what seemed at the time a very cold world’. I love the phrase ‘parched souls that had found oasis’. I understand how the relationship took a turn, and I’m glad you were able to ‘become healthier and choose healthier partners next time’. I like the way you got all the seasons into the haiku!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Kim, I appreciate your feedback and validation very much. Thank you.
LikeLiked by 1 person
You haiku made me tingle. This is a brave explanation of something difficult, thank you for sharing it.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, Sarah.
LikeLike
I’ve just gone and read the original poem – it’s a lovely piece, stands up in its own right, and doesn’t need any kind of explanation. Your prose is like a different slant on the same events, it has its own strength, and stands alone perfectly. Putting them together adds slightly different angles, like a cubist painting.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you for reading and comparing them, Sarah. The comment about the cubist painting illustrates how well the ingredients of time and space can shift perspectives. When I wrote the original it was like an open wound. Today’s haibun is retrospective, where at least the surface of it has healed.
LikeLike
That’s interesting to hear. Maybe that’s another aspect of this prompt.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Ah yes life lessons intimated. Bravo
Much❤love
LikeLiked by 1 person
Gillena, thank you very much ❤
LikeLike
Kim came up with a novel theme for this one, verse vs. prose, verse plus prose, the juxtaposition can be enlightening, even astonishing. You have described my second marriage, and the long term bliss of my third.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Yes, Kim did! Like Jane, I don’t have my poems in any order at all so I just went down the line until one fit the autobiographical theme. Glenn, question: do you ever think about your 2nd wife? I’m guessing having a blissful current wife has turned the 2nd into a distant memory…
LikeLike
Your quatrain aches and your haibun illuminates. Life is a long learning process. (K)
LikeLiked by 1 person
It sure is, K. Back when life expectancy was age 30, they didn’t have to worry about learning, just surviving. Thank you!
LikeLiked by 1 person
The baggage, and then suitcase, make an excellent analogy.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Ken, thank you.
LikeLiked by 1 person
This is so good Lisa … especially with the flash back to your former poem. Well done.
LikeLiked by 1 person
🙂 Thank you so much, Dwight.
LikeLiked by 1 person
an oasis can become part of the desert… Nicely done.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, Margaret.
LikeLike
I feel you’ve brilliantly done this. The suitcase being the baggage. But your haiku just is brilliant with hope. 💖
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you very much, Sascha.
LikeLiked by 1 person
So many times, we write poetry where only we know the real meaning behind it all. How brave of you to share Lisa. I am happy you are in a better place.
LikeLiked by 1 person
❤ Thank you for your kind and thoughtful comment, Linda.
LikeLiked by 1 person
This is an excellent haibun… I really love the prose, how seeking that warmth for a while might have been necessary but still the end must have hurt.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, yes.
LikeLike
Love the creeping baggage that will not stay locked up. Gorgeous haiku!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, Sara.
LikeLike