HAIKU native nippon nuanced narrative
Call it what you will
But I know exactly where I have been
You have stripped away my zeal and well me up with Nippon steel
The knife is at his throat and travelers are loading in a big boat
Where they are going, I don’t know
But they are getting ready for the burning man’s show
The shackles have been taken away
And we are celebrating a brand-new day
But you have come to steal their joy away
From whence did this act come.
It was there from the pilgrimage began
When diversity is on the run
You have cleared off all the kitchen shelves
And left them standing on the edge
But as swift as the birds can fly
The heavens have listened to their passionate cry.
We are not to be blamed for your age-old dirty games
You must re-install the diversity equity inclusion program
Or the heavens will nail you by the thump, before the year is done.
Black history is global history, and you cannot deny it
The world has witnessed it!
When blackened at that time,
as the fate of this country,
In the Dai Nippon colonial era,
the baby was born.
Childbirth is true fate.
breastfeeding as God's gift,
laudatory nature and remarkable deeds.
Nothing for partus sequitur ventrem,
children born not to slaves.
Mom, who nine-monthed him,
happy and grateful.
The baby was exceptional.
The Colonial Army never sets claws,
unexpected obstacles,
grounding and sinking.
Where?
Who?
Naqaba, walked,
followed a narrow path.
The Guru,
Sekumpul.
Remember the emperor
In Japan, especially in Tokyo, people are a strange mix of efficiency.
Young people are adolescents until they are forty living in an aspic
of western pop culture that does not exist anymore; when their parents die
they either grow up or become recluses unable to cope with the world.
The older generation did well and there are many of them like shingles
in the emperor’s driveway.
Japan had a meltdown 12 years ago which was good for the country
people have less haste and go to karaoke cafes once a week singing
a sentimental song about lonely cowboys.
I was in Nagasaki once, just as Nippon was rising on the financial firmament
but got too close to the sun.
I was amazed how quickly the scars of the nuclear had physically healed
but mentally, there must be a corner in their psyche
that can´t forget and will find revenge one day in the land of the rising sun.
Politics is smart on one side
but it's half luck for another
when you win it's hazard
when you lost it's sourish
I think so much Pirulin
I got the first mush
before giving to each other.
Who doesn't cry, doesn't breastfeed
still said the song
and Sir Jorge made a fool
he wanted to face the dragon
the beast was so naughty
took it from a mandolin
and went fishing in Nippon.
All that shines is gold
says the law of my backlands
there the only shines so much
as golden brown
Sivuca who was an alchemist
he added harmonica with pifa
placed Sinata on the ground.
Slowly you go far
it was a communist motto
in Russian and England
and very futuristic lotto
Ze Lezin serious goat
wrote the package insert
and became capitalist.
Better two birds in hand
than two birds flying
best three lucky fart
than gas butane methane
so thought Napoleon
when he fell on all fours
in a serene afternoon...!
A GI looking for nookie
Met a Geisha girl called Suki
Would you believe
She could conceive
Faster than a New York bookie?
Hungry Zengo
Zengo is the star from Canada. He emigrated to Russia and drank Neo Soviet vodka dry. Then he went to Pakistan and India to eat kebab, samosa, japati, onion bargi, curry and chips with gravy. Next stop was China where he ate turtle rice, causing a famine. Zengo never passed a stool, he sat on chairs. His constipation took him to OOHH EESS AAYY! Here he ate at McDonalds. Cos it's crap, he blew it up. Then Zengo went for a . He used every bit of bog roll up in the land of the free. Now he's off to Nippon to eat twelve Japanese gangsters, minus little fingers. Then where?
Pipe Dreams
Though I have a woman’s heart; it pounds with
dragon’s fire. Curled about the core of self,
I have lain in wait for Asia with claw, and horn.
Linked-locks and keys have spined beneath my hand
upon the tourist’s rails of China’s Great Wall where
builder’s bones rattle for redress upon the wind.
It is not China’s Long but Ryu ’s heart which pounds.
This was no place, no place for me.
Paper boats zhezhi have blessed my dreams. The
Divine Wind eases my way across a sea of longing
to Nippon. My two-chambered
heart can have but one loyalty—
I say no to the soldiers,
strident in beige and red—
Senkaku’s waves buoy me.
Buddhist temples waver mirage-like in
a gray-white haze of frankincense, the scent
of ever after, lays about me.
For links of love and family, are stronger,
than those of coercion and the gun—I will
island shelter—refine remnants—separate myself
from clay become porcelain—
beneath tori arches; I walk.
A stream in Kyoto
a bronze statue of a ballerina
dancing on point
within a circle
of gnats—
First Published in the Spring of 2017 by Illumen
Cause of my smile
I stand here for many days alone
And enjoy the rays and the cool breeze that falls upon
But I become very sad seeing on
My brothers and sisters are being cut down around
By bombs and missiles by some odd and cruel men;
Just the day before a sister of mine
Was shot down by a monster Zion
He was scolded and his action was condemned
By a man of humanity whose good name is John
But for the other cases of rape and murder around the world
Humanity gone into bins
And to prevent the heinous crimes there is none;
In the wee hours Today came a smart girl
A young lady may be she is about twenty two or twenty three
Before I know anything she took nine pictures
By her Nippon camera with a smile and that too is for free;
Perhaps one day like my brothers and sisters, I will die
With smart bombs and tamarack missiles
But today I have enough reasons to be happy
And on my round face to have a big smile
As someone inside me has seen a tinge of my folded beauty.
Speechless
Beauty of Dress
Beauty of Speechless
Skidding on the Rails
Why? I cannot hear.
I cannot speak.
Like me.
Divergent hole, speechless.
We can dance.
Eat.
See.
But not hear.
I am not too distant.
Nippon Weapon
So what do I say to them?
Dance to it?
Sunshine, Living to the end. Effect of the night.
News of the sword.
Crucify the bad. What are you – a fool?
Of course I am.
TV Actuality.
TV Factuality
Speechless to hear, healthcare.
Black or White, Lips open or closed. Read the magazine.
But I cannot Speak
It is factual
Through my Lips
Peter has gotten a new job
as a bookstore clerk from one to ten
down by the river
in a sunny little house.
I've come to visit and I'm thumbing through
a book of poems
by Robinson Jeffers' brother.
Incoherent but
more interesting than this.
Out of the river rises a bum of a blob
dripping with water and begging a yen.
While he shivers
I call him a louse
and say This isn't Nippon, you!
So off he roams
probably back to his mother.
He was a nut
because he wasn't a fish.
The artist Hokusai memorialized,
In his woodblock print of raging seas,
The great wave off Kanagawa,
That brought Nippon to its knees.
Again the modern rising sun is caught,
In the wrath of shifting plates,
And the belch of a feral tsunami,
Which left millions unsure of their fates
Waves swallowed the archepelico.
Mount Fuji stood at the ready to defend.
The islands won the battle with nature,
But Japans ill's will take years to mend.
Grace and will fills the souls of surviviors
Ancestors fortitude flows through their veins.
They will try to accept lifes yin and yang,
While resolving the tragedy that remains.
The flying cranes wings are strong.
Broad and feathered to deal with lifes tests.
Through centuries they have learned many lessons,
On how to rebuild and strengthen their nests.
Many times the ocean
has saved Nippon, pearl of the sea,
an oceanic symbiosis a speck in a fecund see.
The dikes of man such miniscule plans to hold back the tide.
The throngs, each and all crawl across the thin skin of volcanic soil
or rise with in the hump-backed alps of remnant cones.
Yet, the sea rises to reclaim its own
scour the pallet of man, refine, burnish melt, reform.
With pen and sword kanji drawn, samurai born
with knife and bone entrails torn, honor tested
tested by the hand of He,
tested and found worthy.
The children of the Divine Wind
rise above the tsunami, as one, unbowed.
In the place of the rising sun
Where fasts break on sushi
And the sumo's size a delight
The earth wriggles – wets our kimonos
Took stuffs up to origami
And dampens muses for haiku
As the sunrise
We are in Nippon
Together!
The last bash of summer before we had to go back to school and boredom.
A celebration was held at the river, a happening place and the place to be for a teen.
The Labor day dance was held for all to enjoy; I tagged along with my older sister to
keep her out of trouble...She found her husband that night and I thought I would be
a bench warmer all night. Until from out of nowhere a Japanese young man bowed
and asked for a dance. I shyly declined...
He was stronger and grabbed my arm; so we danced a few hours across the floor.
Who would think that dancing with a complete stranger cheek to cheek was so
exciting to a young girl's heart.
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