A cobalt surge, a sky of pearly grey,
A mountain watches, silent, capped with snow.
The wave ascends, where tiny boats hold sway,
While foamy fingers beckon from below.
Against the tide, a challenge they embrace,
With strength they push, against the swelling might,
A test of skill, within this watery space,
Their tiny crafts, in shades of dark and light.
The churning foam, a dance of wild delight,
And Fuji’s form, a calm and steady guide,
A vision bold, a captivating sight,
Where nature’s power cannot be denied.
So ride the wave, let courage be your art,
And find the beauty in a brand new start.
pretty geisha in early morning
needs motivation
to open her lovely eyes
and get on with her day
AP: Honorable Mention 2025
Praise and grace makes me love Japan
Seeing the streets are so clean
No trash and trash cans anywhere
And no one eats while walking
Totally different culture to Manila
No discriminate picture of choices
Temples and festivals a yearly to behold
The cherry blossom tree is my favorite
That capture my unforgettable smell
Special soup, teriaki, shusi and sashimi
Non stopping, alluring, watering my mouth
Plus the influx of modern science and technology
Made this country number one in many ways
How made this archipelagic country get its name
Really mesmerizes me so much and bewildered me
This is a nation truly you lack adjectives to say.
Carpal tunnel twinges
punctuate a torpid afternoon,
as row on row we line the aisles
and stare at nothing
with the guarded anonymity
of urinating men.
My thumb is on the lever,
moving almost imperceptibly,
as marbles rocket into space
and filter down
through obstacles designed
to keep the management in business.
The captive of a chain reaction
freed from craving by acceptance
of the preordained,
I decompose, am compromised,
incorporated by the convolutions
of this artificial universe.
But something breaks
the moment I let go.
The single thread
that holds the world in place is cut,
and once again I fall away
with all my individual needs exposed.
Japan, 1968
Previous version published in Outposts, England
The long fun bantering conversations
Eye to eye
Lazer beams
Side by side
In the crowd
Walking into the evening glow
Over the glasses of umerock and namachuu
The smooth and calm sway of the train
Our reflections in the window
Talking until there was only
That last train
That last stop
Where it was only us
When it was only us
Us two
Laying down on the grass
Near the river
Side by side
Content in each other’s presence
Thinking back,
I realize that I’ve seen this scene before
From a direct, top view perspective
A year?? Perhaps a few months ago
My psyche somehow
Subconsciously
Somehow always knew
Meant to be, was this moment?You don’t need to try so hard to be
Oh, so cool
Oh, so hardcore
Until
Once I snap back a witty remark
His baby face scrunches into the cutest laugh
He just can’t hold it in
His hand, warm
Wrapping mine
Different yet similar scars
I think we both know
That this isn’t
Casual
Oh no
Much more than that
Oh, not so typical
No need to try too hard
No need to force it
Flowing naturally
As the tide goes
'I'm thinking positive thoughts,'
says the voice from an orange tent
in Suicide Forest.
Since he hanged his alter ego in effigy,
Mr T. Hashimoto has canceled
all his psychiatric appointments.
He lies on his back
and mentally calculates
his cortisol level.
His crooked smile
duels inconclusively
with a crack in a coffee cup.
He has learned that life
is as long as a roll of pink ribbon
from Mitsukoshi Department Store,
stretching from trunk to trunk
and ending in the arbitrary place
where death waits.
But here, under an old pine,
the wind has cast
a litter of new needles.
And as the mist creeps closer,
the whitecoats are dancing,
delirious in the drugged air.
First published in Takahe, New Zealand
Truth in Japan:
True gentleman
Don't have game plan.
Light fades, drums serenade
Curtains drawn, swords displayed.
Kin of Daimyo cheer on Samurai
In their artistic display of kung foolery.
Time fades, Meiji Restoration came
Like daybreak, a new Japan made.
The sun rose on neon streets
Where once barefooted monks would meet.
Robi, a robot named
With confidence, a machine tamed.
Unlike a timid adult
Initiates conversation without fault.
A new Japan, another story
Shaped by time and divine glory.
On the Pacific Ring of Fire it once stands
Now endures earthquakes with steady hands.
Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde
Jovial Dr Jekyll played for juvenile Justice
a just jaspered journey
jokingly jumped a joyride
to juicy jukebox jabbering
in jackal jackboots
from nearby jungle
Dr Jekyll clasped a jackknife eating
jambalaya to justify a
juggled juxtapositional
jurisdiction jamming
as jugular vein jingled jewels
joyfully jauntily jaywalking
to a jay named Jim Jolly !
Onward he jumped to a
Jungian junction
Jupiter jocund watching his
journeying joints
journalese seemed a jibe jig
but neither Jewess, Jesuit
or jeweller jiggled this job
So he jerked his jess
like a jape for Japan
Jejuning onto January for the
next jangle of jasmine
No jellyfish was Dr Jekyll in Jordanian jerkin
though sometimes Mr Hyde
with jeroboam swirling alongside !
Snail travels to Japan in the fanciest way
We see him traveling, he’s cutesy today
He is wearing a camera around his neck.
He stops to give the emperor a genuflect.
His hat is from Australia, his eyeglasses from the wild.
He scoots around old men, he picks up a lady bug child.
We flowers surround him, admiring his ensemble of beauty.
It is our Japanese privilege, not our tradition or duty.
Dull clouds are backdrop for another dreary day
Glancing around, he sets off on his daily walk
Tree umbrellas cast dark shadows across woodland floors
Mist swirls around trunks, glides across glades
He walks on as shafts of sunlight beckon change
Clouds recede, warmth and light strengthen
Bright streaks pierce treescape
He marvels at shadows dancing with light
Such spontaneous pleasure warms body and soul
Reminds him life is too short to live in shadows
Komorebi karma strikes
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
*10th Place* Komorebi Contest Dec 2023
Sponsored by: Craig Cornish
It was Tokyo's dry cold season
I should’ve worn a plaid trench coat
when ‘twas perfect to stroll around.
It felt endless to wander under the lights
of Shibuya Crossing;
My destination was nowhere to be found.
I wish I had attended to late-night parties.
I wish I had joined groups in open streets.
But it was too early to run out of fuel
So, I headed back to my fancy hotel room
with swollen feet.
Before I slept, I thought
“I wish I have seen the blossoming beauty
that grows on Sakura’s twigs…”
But autumn visited too soon;
It hastily vanished with the wind.
pink and white garlands
along the giant
sakura blossoms
The bizarre scene when Earth has been pressured
And on Richter Scales this can be measured:
When the immovable readily quake,
Not a single hard rock failing to shake…
A punishment too familiar to Japan
At a period hitting her like a pan.
Often her feared National Tragedy
She’d kept devising a ‘Stop Strategy!
How preventable it was ‘Quite Doubtful!
Whenever it struck whisky a mouthful…
The matched with Virulent Epidemic,
Cruelest act of God to Academic:
Wars orchestrated by commando…
Habitations could look like Dog’s Breakfast,
High Death Tolls asking for Religious Fast:
No longer wise raising brick houses,
Better rooms as light as today’s blouses…
Not a thing she could contain with Judos;
The day Judo does, by all means Kudos…
I’ve never particularly enjoyed travelling. Most people have long lists of places they’d like to visit, but for me that’s never been the case. First, airplanes scare me to death. Yes, they may be the safest form of transport but my fear remains nonetheless. Second, you must pack your stuff. Oh, that’s such a disturbing task. What if you forget something important? How can you know the exact amount of clothes you need? Such tragedies! Third, like a hobbit, I’m not fond of leaving home - not even for a couple of days. After a short while, my heart starts to ache, and I must go back. Yet, when I was inside the plane and watched the sun rising in the horizon, it felt like home.
look through the window --
the land of the rising sun
lies just before me
Related Poems