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Best Japanese Poems

Below are the all-time best Japanese poems written by Poets on PoetrySoup. These top poems in list format are the best examples of Japanese poems written by PoetrySoup members

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New Japanese Poems

Don't stop! The most popular and best Japanese poems are below this new poems list.

Seashells - The Japanese Hotan Style by Petersen Potter, Dorian
Sebun Nihonjin Okoku no Senso - War of the Seven Japanese Kingdoms by Estes, Brett
Summertime - The Japanese Hotan Style by Petersen Potter, Dorian
Jewels From The Past-The Japanese Tanka Style by Petersen Potter, Dorian
Southern Plantations-The Japanese Tanka Style by Petersen Potter, Dorian
Seashells - The Japanese Hotan Style by Petersen Potter, Dorian
Winter - The Japanese Haiku Style by Petersen Potter, Dorian
Believe - The Japanese Senryu Style by Petersen Potter, Dorian
Japanese Women By: Richard Brautigan by Krieger, CJ
Limerick crochetes: Once Japanese Robot lied about its age by Wignesan, T

View all new Japanese Poems

The Best Japanese Poems

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Slowly Turning Japanese

I think in Japanese,
write down my thoughts in English,
then twist it all back into sushi,
a tasty bite to eat.

My mind is origami
folding away thoughts into meditation,
only for thoughts to unfold again,
into a crisp sheet of bright city lights.

I love you big much,
love you big time,
the way you giggle nervously.
Must be amazing to find everything so funny.

Big city, sake sunset,
karaoke moon rises 
over a robotic, neon inception.
Transformer, transformer,
autobotic-neurotic Bumblebee
comes to the aid of Samurai Prime.
"Autobots, transform!!"

Bored of the bright lights?
Weary of the gaijin
doing photo-photo,
always looking for a sweet sakura panpan?
Then take a leisurely stroll up to Hokkaido,
less sucky-sucky there,
lots of bow-down-real-low-austerity
alongside the 108 gongs-a-bonging -
chant a few prayers,
speak with the sacred cedars,
take a dip in the hot springs
with some smiling monkeys,
and watch the gently falling snow together.

Nippon, you offer everything.
Can eat 20 times a day without gaining a single pound.
Always room for more.
Can't get enough of miso,
chanko nabe, shabu-shabu,
gyozo, okonomiyaki -
coming up for air,
so I don't drown in my saliva.

I refuse to look back,
refuse to go back to the boredom
of white picket fences and empty dreams.
I am going to stay here forever.
I love you big much,
love you big time,
totemo ureshii da.

March 1st, 2012

Copyright © Chris D. Aechtner | Year Posted 2012

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Beloved mother's garden

Mother sat in her aromatic garden,
admiring its charm and grace.
It was a cold morning, 
but mother never seemed to feel it any more.
Her eyes were tired, life's horrors had taken their toll,
yet the smallest things filled them with joy.
Like the perennial ivory lilies blossoming
among her loyal, royal forget-me-nots.
The tranquil scent of lilac lavender, blooming
among radiant Jerusalem sage, always made her smile.
Her hands were wrinkly, but resilient,
despite years of hard work as a single mother.
Still strong enough to tend to her grandiose display
of ruby red, aureolin yellow and puce pink roses.
Mother always told me the thorns were like knights,
there to protect the rose's fragility, that a woman
is a man's most precious flower, requiring tender care.
Evergreen conifers paraded along the perimeter of
my beloved mother's garden like a colony of soldiers
protecting a beautiful, yet delicate, Japanese cherry blossom tree.
Mother always told me it reminded her about life,
how everything was temporary, just like its fragile buds
that only blossomed in the spring and the lightest breeze blew them away.
Mother had taught me so much and was my inspiration,
picked me up when I was defeated, taught me that only in defeat do we learn.
When the world tried to change me, taught me to accept myself,
to love myself before I could love others and be true to who I am.
As I sat with my mother admiring the beauty of the seeds sown,
melancholic tones flooded my emotions, wondering how I would cope without her.
Was I selfish wishing to die before her, so I would not have to mourn for her;
but that would be so heartbreaking for her, who would have to mourn for me.
My contemplation was interrupted by an outbreak of rain.
Mother simply smiled and reminded me, "Rain is mercy from God, my son."

26 February 2016

Copyright © Silent One | Year Posted 2016

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Cornflower Blue

(a conversational collaboration with Christine Ueri)

"remember the dream I had when we were 10?
(waves and waves of cornflowers everywhere)
about the boy and the closet?
(sunflowers, circle, glass house?....closet, yes)
cornflower blue
(the closet was cornflower blue?)
the light in that dream was cornflower blue
(the air, the atmospheric light?)
yes, especially in the closet

I had that dream for so long
I'll never forget
little boy blue and the kingfishers --
the blue and white china plates
with the bridge and the lovers; the two doves in the willow tree,
that made me look for japanese
the funny things we do as children

(you are writing a poem....)
catch the words, my love
(you already wrote a poem up there; bridge it together --
I dried cornflowers with dandelions in a blue and white book; but it wasn't a dream.
Well, in a way it was, because at the time, I was floating in the clouds)

he wore a blue and white striped top in my dream

and I remember him
when I look at the sky,
the clouds and the golden sun --

I caught the words!
(yes! did you string them all together?)

not yet!"


August 29th, 2012

Copyright © Chris D. Aechtner | Year Posted 2012

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cherry blossoms
swirl through the streets
like ghosts -

replacing the men
who have left for war

*Yamazakura means 'wild cherry blossom'.
During WWII, the first Japanese Kamikaze unit was given the title of: Yamazakura,
to honour the last two official Samurai warriors who were part of the unit.
Falling cherry blossoms were believed to bring good luck to the courtships
of teenagers left behind, in hopes of many future male babies,
because the Emperor had conscripted all available men into the doomed war.
The Samurai 'Petals of Death' Bushido code, is: Death before the shame of surrender.

Chris D. Aechtner     February 24th, 2012
Inspired by David Williams' "Twenty/Twenty" contest

Copyright © Chris D. Aechtner | Year Posted 2012

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Little Blue Pill

Went through a phase....thought maybe I should live life to the fullest,
and stop giving away 8 hours of each day, towards sleeping.

After the first week of sleep deprivation,
Buddha and Jesus both appeared simultaneously,
started following me wherever I went-
couldn't tell between hallucinations and reality.

Buddha helped write my final exams,
and Jesus always made sure that I didn't forget to eat.

After the second week, I was floating above my body....
no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't fall asleep anymore-
didn't just have second and third winds....I was having winds 
to the 99th power extreme.
Jesus was telling me to try again and again,
while Buddha told me to hang in there,
for Nirvana was just around the corner.

Asked my buddy for some help,
and he gave me this little blue pill -
don't even touch aspirin anymore.

Well, the pill knocked me right out! 
Tried so hard to fight against it,
having some doubts about what I had just swallowed.

Metallic galaxies of inner stars began pulling at my eyelids,
adding their massive core-gravity to my temples.
Red turned to black inside of my mind,
as little globules of pulsing light
floated before my inner-eye.
d      o      w      n,
down, I spiralled,
thinking about picking cherries from the apple tree in Eden....
beautiful Japanese Geishas propping up the ladder
that pointed down into the rabbit hole.
Up was down,
as cherries were apples?
The branches of the tree resembled its roots in the ground-
perfect mirrors of each other,
as I sat in both places at once;
dream double looking back at me.

ZZzzzzZzzzzZZzzzZZZz....for almost 62 hours straight.
Must have lived a thousand lives in those dreams.
Woke up, wasn't sure if I was still sleeping?
Awoke into sweat and stale urine.
Started falling asleep in school.
Fell asleep at work.
Once you swallow the blue pill,
you can never go back-
the rabbit hole stretches into eternity.

Copyright © Chris D. Aechtner | Year Posted 2010

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Language of love

A simple glimpse as fragile as rose petals left her fragrance intoxicating my senses Both fell into a state of mamihlapinatapei Precipitous epiphany felt like koi no yokan combined with doubts like La douleur exquise Our eyes met with sensations of forelsket Lost for words in the realms of yuanfen as your vision became blurred with saudades walking on leaving me in a state of kera sevde I am alive but you left me feeling Ya’aburnee These eyes of mine yearn for your presence This heart of mine bleeds for your return
The Silent One 4 December 2015 Mamihlapinatapei – Yagan A wordless, yet meaningful look between two people who both desire to initiate something, but both are too scared to initiate themselves. Koi No Yokan – Japanese The sudden knowledge upon meeting someone that the two of you are destined to fall in love. La douleur exquise – French The heartbreaking pain of wanting someone you can’t have. Forelsket – Norwegian That overwhelming euphoric feeling you experience when you’re falling in love with someone. Kara sevde – Turkish Meaning “black love” this is a lovesick term for when you feel that passionate, blinding love for another person. Yuanfen – Chinese A relationship by fate or destiny. Ya’aburnee – Arabic This phrase translates to “you bury me.” This is the hope that the person you love will outlive you so you can spare the pain of living without them. Saudade – Portuguese The feeling of intense longing for a person or place you love but is now lost. A haunting desire for what is gone.

Copyright © Silent One | Year Posted 2015

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"I never travel without my diary, one should always have something sensational to read . .
 . " Oscar Wilde, 1891 

Tues    May  9:   
Just when I was busy with plans for Russia, Rudolf Hess dropped by with  crazy notion of
flying to UK for peace.   Said he bought  some new boots yesterday   for the trip  - 
dead   shiny .  I’d like a  pair like that.    I told him  -  forget the trip   and tell
me where you got the boots. 

Wed     June 22:     
Invaded Russia.   Eggs for lunch  -  hard boiled again -  I hate that. Must speak to Eva
about it.

Thurs    June 23:      
11:00  am - heard Chamberlain on radio again – that dreary voice!  that paper-waving 
droopy-moustached  old gopher!   My small black moustache  is much neater.     
12:30 pm -   inspected new bunker in East Prussia  with smoother concrete walls .   Eva
wants  to wallpaper  them    (nice little red flowers) and why  not?    
8:00pm -  after dinner,  practised  arm-gestures for  big Nuremburg speech  on Saturday. 
 Rehearsed a few ad libs. . . .  Eva liked them.

Fri    June24:      
Rained all day.   Slow day  (almost invaded Egypt) - stayed in and read.      Eva dyed her
hair  creamy-yellow.    ( I’m gonna start calling her Blondy.)           That new german
shepherd Bormann   gave me  -  I took her out for walk. . . . she's called Blondi  too  
 (Joke there  - the guys will like it) .   After dinner we all  listened to Franz Lehar’s
“Merry Widow” again.  I love it.   Eva fell asleep;    so did the dog.

Sat   June 25:   
Nuremburg speech went ok. Got all the ad libs in except one.    Rommel was on the phone
talking about Africa and Libya, and some place called Tobruk. Must make a note – where is
Tobruk? P.S. Must find out where Libya is.

Sat    Dec    6:  
Just read the latest in the newspapers....almost four million Russian prisoners  now.
Sun   Dec  7:  
Those crazy Japanese have  gone and done it. . . . oh  boy, they’re gonna be in trouble! 
Thurs   Dec 11:   
Oh, what the hell. . .  in for a dime in for a dollar :  this Russian war is too  easy,  I
need a bit of a challenge. Think I’ll whiz down  to the  Reichstag tonight  and tell ‘em
we’re declaring  war on the USA.    Might  get a pair of those shiny boots there too.  

Written by Sydney Peck  
for Constance La France ( A Rambling Poet )  -  Contest Name:  The Diary

Copyright © Sidney Beck | Year Posted 2011

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The USS Indianapolis

It was in July of 1945 
  And the USS Indianapolis
Had a crew of nearly 12 hundred alive
  But a Japanese sub fired and did not miss
American sailors had completed their job
  Delivering parts for the first atomic bomb
Some sank with the ship, others in the sea did bob
  No food, few lifeboats, ocean deceptively calm

Surprise attack, no distress signal had been sent
  It was four days later those floating were spotted
The survival rate was just 25 percent
  With hundreds of sailors’ bodies the sea was dotted
In the movie “Jaws” as Captain Quint had related,
  “The sharks came cruisin'. So we formed into tight groups.”
Six men per hour were killed while for help they waited
  All were lost but 316 Navy troops

Some victims died of exposure or starvation
  But far more were killed by the sharks that had attacked
These men lost their lives in service to our nation
  But bomb parts delivered had a deadlier impact

One of the last ships that was sunk in World War II
  The Indianapolis had turned the war’s tide
With a mission carried out by a courageous crew
  Victory was soon celebrated by allies worldwide

This is an entry for the History Poems contest

Copyright © Diane Locksley | Year Posted 2011

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Plesiosaurus Lives

I’m Peter the Plesiosaurus
My clan sings like whales in a chorus
     My flippers and gills
     Can give children thrills
So open your minds, don’t ignore us

*Japanese fishermen found an alleged plesiosaurus which was thought to have 
vanished during the Jurassic period.  Others believe the Loch Ness monster is a 
plesiosaurus.  You can see a picture of them at

Copyright © Carolyn Devonshire | Year Posted 2011

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Random Entries From My Diary

"I never travel without my diary - One should have something sensational to read"
...Oscar Wilde, 1891

30 May 48:  I graduated from high school today now thank God I'm free!
No more doggone homework, perplexing algebra or teachers bugging me!

7 Jul 48: Enlisted in the Air Force today!  Good Lord! What have I done!
The sarge said, "Forget Mom, Dad and Susie Q! You're now mine, my son!"

21 Oct 48: Finished basic training today with about a hundred other guys.
I thought it'd be more like a Boy Scout Camp! Boy, was I in for a surprise!

15 Feb 49: Graduated tech school at Fort Warren and sent to the Bermuda Isles.
Quite a change for a country boy!  Water, water everywhere for miles and miles!

12 Oct 52: Was married tonight at Perrin AFB with Vera as my beautiful bride!
She was very pert and calm, but diary, I was somewhat nervous I must confide!

23 Aug 54: Our family grew by one today! Leanna, a little girl, my fondest wish!
She was measured by a nurse holding her by the heels! Just like measuring a fish!

15 Aug 55:  Boarded a crowded troopship in New York and set sail for Morocco.
Was beset with a bit of mal de mer since the ship was wallowing to and fro!

17 Oct 57: Our little 'arab' Leslie was born today near Casablanca! What a dolly!
She has a hearty set of lungs, but that's OK, she's a healthy little dude, by golly!

11 Jan 68:  Son Mark was born at the Air Force Academy and seemed a healthy tot!
9 Apr 68:  Alas, we buried Mark today at Evergreen.  Boy, do we miss him a lot!

24 Jun 71: My family and I arrived in Tokyo, Japan, to begin our three-year tour!
Japanese is foreign! For "good morning" do I say, "ohio gazamus" or "bon jour?"

1 May 74: Chaplain Porter notified me that I had been promoted to Chief!
Happy day, dear diary!  I've reached the highest rank!  What a blessed relief!

1 Aug 78: I retired today at Offutt AFB, after 30 wonderful years of service!
After wearing the 'blue suit' all those years, wearing civvies makes me nervous!

Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved

Placed No. 3 in Constance La France's "The Diary" Contest - April 2011

Copyright © Robert L. Hinshaw | Year Posted 2011

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As heavy frost settles 'pon the brown hill
And floats down to the level, thoughts are stilled
Words rise up to nettle but spirits thrill
Winter's north breeze meddles_ spring's buds to kill

Japanese Magnolia's buds wait until
spring's warm rains flood the earth; then sap buds fill.
Winter's pause, earth lauds rebirth, and birds' shrill
Vexing cold squads stay away and be still

At spring's rebirth be awed, winter's cold distill
Death where is resurrection's applaud, still
Waiting for spring's hallowed birth, rapture's real
Transformation follows, one's fate sealed

Not part of the poem:
There is a powerful difference in having to say something
and having something to say!!

Sponsor: Isaiah Zerbst
Contest: Interlocking Rhyme
Written: January 19,2015


Copyright © Sara Kendrick | Year Posted 2015

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Eat Pray Love

On the edge 
of the evacuation zone
Miyuki holds her daughter 
tip-toeing in pink sneakers 
her small hands fragile 
blossoms opening
to the man with the beeping wand 

They were outside in the karesansui 
washing and raking 
rocks, when the school 
heaved, convulsed 
then pressed into silence
voices rising inside

So now they wait with strangers
in ordered lines of sorrow 
for bread and drinking water 
as an adolescent, eyes downcast
sees the small pink laces and
offers up his only ration 
of precious onigiri

Hooded and white masked they walk 
three days and bed-less nights toward 
Ishinomaki by the ocean
to family, friends, and home forever 

The landscape jumbles unfamiliar
with plastic wreckage 
and automobiles 
detritus flooded in a field
where Japonica once grew
while moon-suited men 
and women gather
albums for the living

And after sunset Miyuki moves 
her little girl away 
from a white-taped blue-bagged 
lifeless form 
toward the humming black-robed Monk, his
prayers for light 
and workers burned
exposed to radiation ten 
thousand times too high 

And in the shadows one old man kneels
beside a fetid pool and scoops  
rice to carry back to neighbours 
moved to higher ground, un-opens 
one last bottled spirit
bows his head and offers
Miyuki and her first and only 
everything  he has 

At last they reach the shelter’s glow
beneath the starless robe of night 
not used to wearing 
shoes indoors
Miyuki helps her daughter fold
sheets of painful news into
an origami box to hold
her last and only pair

And in the morning as they face
the stretch of road for home 
to unknown love and losses there 
they turn and gaze toward the east 
awaiting still 
spring’s warming breeze 
to rise with brilliant red once more
new light of wondrous dawn 


'karesansui' is a Japanese rock garden or 'dry landscape'.  Rocks are often washed.
'onigiri' is the emergency rice being distributed to survivors in Japan.
'Japonica' is a type of (short-grained) Japanese rice.

for Debbie Guzzie's contest, 'Tribute to Japan'

by ~Soulfire~ 


Copyright © Soulfire | Year Posted 2011

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-- after having written 500,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,002 poems

Eye understand the purging processsSsss,
the simplicity of catharsis -
heated caterwauls wailing in alleys
with porch lights shot through by moths of powdered blame, regret

and guilt. Continuously, I read the poems of others:

"Poor me! Poor, poor pathetic me,
my heart is going to wither away!
Because of YOU! Because of YOU!
I hate you now,
you spineless whore.
Why did you leave me shattered
upon the harsh surface of broken dreams?"

"Slam! Slam! Slam! I have a big gun, you'd better run!"

Japanese Whispers - "Lost in a forest           -           all alone."

"All together now, let's sing Kambojah."

Oh, I feel the pain, feel the nightmares
unfolding in the minds of others,
a clairvoyant, empathetic twister I am;
I don't wear a tin-foil helmet.

and the dreams, the beautiful dreams of light

The words fill me,
vowels and consonants bridge murkiness
with an astounding clarity.
simple moments touch me deeply.

Of smothered hope
rekindled hope
sunken coffins
bats and belfrys
rainbows arcing                --               introspection flowing across the nostalgia of 
porch-swings, dripping peaches, the scent of a newborn baby, the existentialism 
of bee-headed bishops, forbidden touches, slippery, secretive pantings.

After having written 500,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,002 poems,
I became tired of writing for/about myself in a certain way.
I lost my way,
desiring the vain-glory of spotlights,
far too entrenched in devices,
and the: I-am-so-cool-I-am-too-cool-to-be-warm-crowd.
Curdlings of avant-garde souring my morning coffee,
the hollow musings of lost souls reaching out of sugar-cubes,
reaching for something more
than their silly, inane routines of simply surviving. Simply surviving.
I understand.

I read poems
as gifts for my soul.
But for me, it isn't quite as easy to reciprocate,
for I am a rhombohedral, hexagonal ____________.

It was only after being able to reach deep inside myself,
pulling out a purity of intention,
to finally, finally write poems for another           -        as gifts
with no expectations or strings attached,
that I was able to give back,
to fully express how deeply the words have touched me all along....

Copyright © Chris D. Aechtner | Year Posted 2012

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By Now You Have Forgot' - To Whom It May Concern - Part 1

…an extended version of an earlier poem

Remember all the Wise Men on their knees upon your yacht?
With orphans on their backs they'd crawled (and others that'd they brought)
Through rubble on the highway sands and residues of Lot.
They came from severed cities selling postcards of your thoughts,
Though offered for a penny piece, not even worth a jot.

They mused 
How are you feeling? What it is you want, you’ve got. The words you scrawl on calling cards: ‘I AM - the others NOT’, Shun wisdom of the seven seas: ‘Salvation can’t be bought' - Your fathers tried before you and your fathers came to naught. You started out by gelding goats and then by casting lots Of bodies to the battlefields, contorted, tight and taut, Then wallowed in the wake of trails the dervish devil trots. With marching bands of fatherlands, and drums of Hottentots, You lure your legions in harm’s way like giant juggernauts. Like Tweedle Dum your minions come (the sober and the sots, The troglodytes, barbarians, and mislead patriots, The Vandals, Huns and Hannibals and seaport Cypriots, The Japanese, the Congolese, Americans and Scots) To vanquish bows and arrows, spears and catapulted shots Of those who hide in bamboo huts their families, pale, distraught, (Their withered wives with dried up breasts, their swollen babes in cots) Who swoon, engulfed in poison darts and vats of acid hot, Consumed by magic mushroom clouds, atomic megawatts. In churches of your deities, your Holy Huguenots, Your Imams, Rabbis, Voodoo Dolls and Mitered Lancelots Lit wicked kindled candled walls in temples (while we fought) (Used pins and needles, magic spells on makeshift mock whatnots) And mosques, cathedrals, synagogues have blessed each new onslaught With prayers for pipers, puppets, pawns, youir rigid, armed robots.
Continued in Part 2…

Copyright © Terry O'Leary | Year Posted 2012

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Tin Can Sailors

The mighty 3rd to the north did steam,
Chasing a ghost not to be seen

Guard the landing your task assigned,
Quiet the day is to be benign

At dawn the Imperial fleet does appear,
Surprise complete, ranging fire splashes near

Outnumbered and out gunned, duty is clear,
Close the range you must in spite of your fear

Laying smoke, a jagged course you take,
An account of yourselves you will make

Steel your heart and make sure your eye,
For each salvo keeps you alive

Toe-to-toe the battle, you exchange mighty blows,
Triumph impossible, yet into the fray you all go

In perfect rhythm, the mad dance goes on,
As smoke filled gunhouse loads powder and shot

Decks strewn with the dead and dying, 
Teams repair to keep the ensign flying

Struck and struck again, yet to point blank you steam, 
Hard to port, you cross the “T”

“All guns to fire at the turn, torpedoes away!”
The enemy scatters in disarray

Too late, mortal blows you take
To the deep, no more your enemy to rake

One final salute their captain does render,
For you fought to the death and did not surrender

On this all men do still agree,
These were the finest two hours of Taffy 3

On October 25th, 1944, 3 destroyers and 4 destroyer escorts of Task Force 
Taffy 3 engaged a combined force of Imperial Japanese Navy battleships and 
cruisers in a 2 hour running gun battle to protect the escort carriers and troop 
transports taking part in the Leyte Gulf landings in the Philippines. Two of the 
three destroyers and one of the escorts were sunk while sinking three 
Japanese heavy cruisers and damaged three more. Due to the fierceness of 
the attack, the Japanese fleet retired from the area thinking they had been 
attacked by a much larger force. At the outset of the battle, the commanding 
officers of these 7 ships, without orders, individually decided to attack and 
headed at flank speed to the fight all knowing they would most likely not 
survive the day. Almost 1600 did not. In a final act of respect, the commander 
of one Japanese cruiser saluted the crew of an American ship that had just 
sunk as his ship passed them floating in the water.

Copyright © Steve Harris | Year Posted 2014

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The Cherry Blossoms Will Bloom Again

The power of nature has ravaged the Japanese shore,
Leaving in its wake devastation and unimaginable gore.
The mettle of this gentle people has been tested, it is true,
But next spring, they know that cherry blossoms will bloom anew!

Alas, whole villages along that rugged coast were torn asunder,
As the raging tsunami raced inland gobbling up its plunder.
When all hope was lost and they thought they'd surely meet their doom,
They were cheered knowing that cherry blossoms once again would bloom!

This stalwart people who'd suffered the ravages of falling shell and bomb
Dropped from silver birds, faced another holocaust with great aplomb.
With little but hope they vowed to rebuild their lives ever keeping in view,
The cherry blossoms that would bloom come next spring with dainty hue!

Alas, the 'quake leveled schools, ancient temples and magnificent torii,
But this patient people will restore them once again to their former glory!
They will persevere again and again as surely as the rising sun at dawn,
To enjoy another season of delicate cherry blossoms 'til their scent is gone!

The brotherhood of nations rallied as one to provide succor with speed.
It was neighbor helping neighbor in keeping with the Master's creed!
Even though the nation was rocked with misery, shock and searing pain,
Out of the depths of disaster the cherry blossoms will bloom once again!

Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved

Placed No. 8 in Deb Guzzi's "Tribute To Japan" Contest - May 2011

Copyright © Robert L. Hinshaw | Year Posted 2011

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Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles

There's four ninja turtles
Cleaning up the streets
Trained in the art of ninja karate-e
They hide down in the sewers
Watching for criminals
Could it be for real or is it April fools

Teenage mutant ninja turtles
Six foot dudes they can hurtle
Teenage Mutant Ninja turtles
Ancient arts in Japanese circles

Leo, Donnie, Mikey and Raph
Quick with their hands  
And smart with their mouths
Trained by Splinter their sensei rat
Turtle doves with shells on their backs

Teenage mutant ninja turtles
six foot dudes in Aprils journals
Teenage Mutant Ninja turtles
Ancient arts in Japanese circles

Red, orange, purple and blue
Coloured masks to give you a clue
Fast with their feet and their weapons
Teenage turtles a force to be reckoned
Twin katana’s, Bo' that staff
Nun Chaka's, sai, there first class

Teenage mutant ninja turtles
Six foot dudes at your dispersal
Teenage Mutant Ninja turtles
Ancient arts in Japanese circles

These turtle buddies slip and slide
Still in their teens their skills sky high 
Their quick and mean and fast on the scene
Fighting the evil foot clan team
You better believe it, better run fast
These ninja turtles will kick shredders ass

Teenage Mutant Ninja turtles
Round house kicks in reversal
Teenage mutant Ninja turtles
Martial arts in Japanese circles






Cowabunga!!   what’s up dude??
I love you guys!!  I'm in a digital mood!!





© Copyright K.C.Leake
30th October 2014
All Rights Reserved

Copyright © kevin leake | Year Posted 2014

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No, my Lord,

Mercy, for their wretched souls, I could

Never ask

Let them burn into eternity for their atrocious crimes,

Committed against humanity 


Against the law of Thy infinite love !*

© Demetrios Trifiatis
  07 FEBRUARY 2015

*After burning a Jordanian pilot alive, decapitating two Japanese 
journalists and killing a woman for not wearing shoes, yesterday the 
fanatics decapitated a father and a son in Iraq. When all this end?

Copyright © Demetrios Trifiatis | Year Posted 2015

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Z is for Zaria

A-Z Latin and Common names of plants.

A is for Acanthus Mollis the Latin name but this does teach us
B is for the common name we know it as bears Breaches.

C is for Campanula some are short and some of them tower
D is for the common name the pretty blue Dalmatian Bellflower

E is for Erigeron a daisy like flower not keen on the rain
F is for its common name, a strange sounding Fleabane.

G is for Galtonia its nodding head like a bowing nymph
H is for the common name the snowdrop or summer Hyacinth.

I is for Imperata Ruba not so hardy let me tell you alas
J is for the common name It’s known as Japanese Blood Grass.

K is for Kniphoria Triangularis a tall flower when unfurled
L is for the common name the pretty Light of the World.

M is for Morus nigia a stately tree with hearts shaped leaves 
N is not for the common name but NEEDS care when pruning as it bleeds 

Oenothera biennis is for an ephemeral beauty a perfume delicate on the nose 
P is for the common name, and we know it as the Evening Primrose.

Q is for Quercus Ruba a fast growing plant that looks tremendous against a wall
R is for the red leaves that this plant displays when in the fall

S is for Salvia greggii you will of heard of this I’ll will wage
T is for its common name we know it as a Texas Sage.

U is for Ugni a fruiting tree with leathery leaves that is second to none
V is for variety in fact in this tree there is only one.

W is for Wisteria that loves to ramble up wires and twist
X is for Xeranthemum the flowers are straw like and crisp

Y is for the Yucca plant a flowering beauty that last for weeks
Z is for Zantedeschia a lily, a variety of colours for you to seek.

© 27/03/2013 

Copyright © Mandy Tams The Golden Girl | Year Posted 2013

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This is about a man whose name is Jesse
Born In Kansas and raised in Missouri
 Was called to fight for his beloved country
And  assigned to defend an outlying territory

Jesse fought as hard as any American would
For freedom and democracy he did everything he could
For Uncle Sam, even in danger steadfast he stood
Believing in his heart that everything will turn out good

He was with the Death March in Bataan
But he was helped to escape by his special someone
Josie was the name of this special woman
Who walked along with the March since it began

It was in the territory that he met Josie
A woman whose dad was from Cincinnati
The two fell in love cause they had chemistry
They had their first child in nineteen forty three

In forty four he was again captured by the Japanese
He was already sick cause he caught a disease
Was taken to a prison camp and placed under lock and keys
In the end the harsh conditions led to his demise

Josie tried to look for his grave but failed
She couldn't do anything and in sadness she wailed
There were reports that he died in the hell ship as it sailed
But to get proof to the true cause of his death we have failed

Jesse died in January of nineteen forty five
Stories about him that Josie told kept him alive
In the heart of his descendants his memories survive
Love for him in their hearts continues to thrive

But every time I go to bed and close my eyes
I see his face and think of the truth that I despise
My whole body stiffens and I get as cold as ice
Sadly thinking that still, in an unknown grave he lies

(For my grandfather US Army 2nd Lt. Jesse C. Boak of the 33rd Infantry 
Regiment, who was declared MIA in WWII. His body was never found and true 
cause of his death was never known.His name is listed in the Tablets of the 
Missing at the Manila American Cemetery and on a Memorial Monument at the 
State of Missouri
Grandpa even though I never got the chance to really know you I will always be 
proud of you-JEB)

                                                           JESSE C. BOAK
                                                           2nd Lt. US Army
               Awards: Silver Star, Bronze Star, Purple Heart with 2 Oak Leaf Clusters

Copyright © John Boak | Year Posted 2006

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Attendants of God
Protect us with compassion
Celebrating love

Descend from heaven
Pure celestial images
Harmonious glow

Silent messengers
Arrive in our time of need
Guide us into light

Illuminate dark
Bright divine affinity
Innocent nature

Some walk amongst us
Spiritually uplift
Invisible wings

2 April 2016
Senryu on Angels - Poetry Contest by Marvin Celestial
Syllables checked on

Senryu (also called human haiku) is an unrhymed Japanese verse consisting of three unrhymed lines of five, seven, and five syllables (5, 7, 5) or 17 syllables in all. Senryu is usually written in the present tense and only references to some aspect of human nature or emotions.

Copyright © Silent One | Year Posted 2016

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fragile rice papers

fragile rice papers
cling to a thrashed wicker wall
and silent gazes
kanji-stained blots become buds
some bloom into ureshii

1.  "Ureshii" means happiness (Japanese).
2.  Formerly titled Minamisanriku's List.

Copyright © Rhys Matthew | Year Posted 2011

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My Hero

He feared not his death,
because he came to know well,
Him who gave us all life’s breath.
He worked at his goal,
taking life’s problems in stride,
Humility was in him.

I remember him
smiling, laughing and patient,
as generous as could be,
adoring his wife,
happy for her attention,
Respectful of his children.

I was glad to be,
a part of that family,
even though for a short time.
I was too young then
to understand what Love is.
He showed me, I’m glad to say.

A real team player,
encouraging and docile,
Bedtime found him on his knees.
Joe knew his business,
and set reachable short goals,
His long range goal was heaven.

This tribute to my good friend Joe T. is my first of this Sedoka poem form which is
Japanese in origin. Six line stanzas 577577. Each stanza is called a Katauta.
I found it easy to communicate the desired message with this form.

Copyright © Robert A. Dufresne | Year Posted 2011

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My family

strong single mother
four children her pride and joy
shelters them from storm

her voice always calm
through swirl of sickening fears
angel is disguise

with words of wisdom
inspired our generation
to achieve success

professional sons
broadcaster, lawyer, banker
result of her love

now a grandmother
twelve grandchildren she adores
her legacy lives

her door still open
should a child come back to nest
mother's arms are home

nature and nurture
create strong family roots
unbreakable bond

4 May 2016
Haiku on "My Family" - Poetry Contest by Marvin Celestial
Syllables checked on

Second Chance May 2016 - Poetry Contest by Eve Roper

a Japanese poem of seventeen syllables, in three lines of five, seven, and five.

Copyright © Silent One | Year Posted 2016

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Two blue butterflies

two blue butterflies
following me all the day
I am no flower
still they are so close to me
blue butterfly eyes of you


Placement:10th; (February 2011)

Contest:We Aren't Japanese BUT Please!

Sponsor:Debbie Guzzi

By :kashinath karmakar (16th Feb.2011)

Copyright © kash poet | Year Posted 2011