Her Sanpaku Eyes

By ColorMeToxic

She looked at me
through exhausted,
sanpaku eyes.

Her eyes were still
piercingly gorgeous,
but were lacking
their former shine.

She shared with me,
photographs.

Snapshots of moments
she never wanted to forget,

and she was so afraid she would.

I'd seen her look at those photos,
at least a hundred times.

She'd always say things like,

"back when I was pretty"

or

"we were so young then"

and I would say,

"I wish you knew
how beautiful you still are."

and she would just shyly smile at me
and shake her head,

no.

If only I had known
I'd never see her again,
I would have held her longer
I would have kissed her forehead...

one more time.

After all, she raised four kids
then turned around
and took me in

I'm not sure I ever thanked her.

I regret the things
I said and did
in my selfishly rebellious
teenage years.

The last time I saw her,
I said I was so sorry,
desperately pleading
for her total forgiveness

and I got it.

I don't doubt that. but can I forgive myself?

I think no matter what
I will always worry
that I played a part

in the dying of the light
in her beautiful
blue, sanpaku eyes.

Unauthorized Copying Is Prohibited. Ask the author first.

Published on Sunday, October 25, 2015. Filed under: "Reflective" and "Poetry"

Author's Note:

A.J.C.

Comments on "Her Sanpaku Eyes"

A former member wrote: That was beautiful, I appreciate your humility it's refreshing. Thank you for a beautiful soulful poem.
A former member wrote: She must have been really exhausted of life, to have sanpaku eyes. A mark of burning the candle whole.
On Sunday, March 31, 2013, Melancholic VIncent (428) wrote:

You managed to perfectly create the image of your mother in my head (I suppose it's your mother). Someone with apathic, depressive eyes. Looking to the past to visit better times but have already forgotten the present. I had to search for sanpaku meaning, it's an interesting term.
A former member wrote: really pretty and kind , tugs at me heart especially the part about kissing her forehead , I always kiss my grand mums head and she says oh you are too thin and ye hairs are too long Scott !! hope you can find your peace madam .
A former member wrote: To remember the beauty that grows with life as prettiness fades speaks volumes. We all are young once and many of us hurt those we shouldnt. She knew you loved her, and never regret that. You're a good person Beth. Inspiring and thoughtful piece. Thank you.
On Wednesday, February 27, 2013, BetaWolfinVA (791) wrote:

makes me miss my grandmother even more... dad mom wife and i were trying to make it down to see her as she lay dying, missed her by three hours, told her we loved her over the phone when the doctors told my aunt it was time ... damn waterworks
On Sunday, January 13, 2013, darkness falls (73) wrote:

This is beautiful, Beth...from you, I am not in the least surprised, you are a light to me in this dark world.
On Sunday, January 6, 2013, dwells (4177) wrote:

One of my favotite words and seldom seen, the three whites (sides and lower) - indicative of extreme sadness or remorse, from the Japanese art of face reading. Well done and grandmas are like that, thanks Beth.
On Saturday, January 5, 2013, PoetessDarkly (693) wrote:

it's like you took a page of my life and wrote it in a masterpiece
On Saturday, January 5, 2013, FadedBlues (2096) wrote:

...perfect poem, how you recognized her fatigue by the whites of her eyes, replaced it with love...
On Saturday, January 5, 2013, NikesRain (1240) wrote:

this carries a heaviness almost unbearable, yet the tenderness and love reflected in it tempers the weight... even the solemnity of reflection and guilt only serve to enforce the beautiful and obvious love and respect you had and have for her... it was impossible to read without doing so gently or stop the tears from slipping easily.... outstanding
On Saturday, January 5, 2013, Devilish (2633) wrote:

Wow . Hey you. long time no see. how crazy that i log in and see this. and from you it meant so much more because i rarely see you post something like this and i am thankful. the police just killed someone so close to me and i had just seen him 2 days ago he was here and i didn't help him load music on his lil player and i feel so bad now because i had no idea it would be the last time i saw him. i have tried to write and can't so thank you for this color it took the edge off the edge of the intensity . hugs and much love and i believe she forgave you as well. i feel like you do, can i forgive myself? love you
A former member wrote: I normally comment on the more abstract works...but i have to say, I feel this. I guilt-trip myself more than I let on, I feel like you've kinda done that for me here. Certainly, she forgives you your selfishnesses...the hardest part is forgiving yourself. I'm right there with ya...sometimes I am consumed with this obsession...almost to the point of self-flagellation. Good memory, those sanpaku eyes. Deeply felt...don't be too hard on yourself (like I'm one to talk!)...always a pleasure, Beth.
On Saturday, January 5, 2013, lupus tenebrae (860) wrote:

This piece allows me to reflect, in total honesty. I think that's part of the reason our collabs work out so well, a combination I like to call a rhythmic honesty. You already know what this piece does for me, I know I've already mentioned my grandmother before. Touching, doesn't begin to search for my opinion. For that, you must go deeper still.
On Saturday, January 5, 2013, Iwas (39) wrote:

regret..so beautifully expressed. thanks for sharing this.
On Saturday, January 5, 2013, Adam (242) wrote:

I can relate to the feeling, you know it was not your fault, but you can't help but think if only you did ___ you could have either made her last longer, made it easier for her or said something that changed everything. I still feel this way from time to time and don't wish it on anyone. Great expression. - Adam
On Saturday, January 5, 2013, Poetic-Realm (253) wrote:

Our stories are strikingly similar other than the personalities of our grandmothers. Mine was a bit more rugged, and would stash the photos away so we wouldn't have to see her cry. Good story, I feel ya.