Theater!

Take a moment,
And dress it up with
Lights, music, sound,
Make it special,
Different from other
Moments all around,
Create a special point
In time, one to make
Time stop, to disjoint
The normal flow
Of all the boring
Things we know.

The New Year Has Opened

Welcome to the Year of the Snake,
The hopes you may bring,
The troubles you might make,
Off, we now together slither,
Through the winter's whither
Toward another fall, summer, spring...

Radiological Bucket Brigade

According to my orders and direction,
I pull up a bucket of sea water from
The designated spot, for inspection,
Later, in a distant lab, where the
Water, analyzed for so many years,
Has yet to reveal anything that
Might warn or justify the fears
Of the citizens, on whose behalf,
I strain my back, each day,
To verify what has been
Already measured, anyway.

Tough Times At The Power Plant

Geologists, and other technical experts,
Gather to report and debate
Over the characteristics
Of soil, to determine the fate
Of a nuclear plant, built over a
Fault, discovered too late...

Concrete, steel, and billions of yen
Hang in the balance, tense explanations
Are made, and then countered
With growing anger and accusations...

Someone must decide,
There is nowhere to hide.

Yuletime Morning

Drinking with intent,
We partied all night
And got seriously bent,
But we did not fight,
Not that I remember...

My mind's in a fog,
Sometime in late-December...

Now, for the hair of the dog...

Spiked!

Vodka poured in the Holiday eggnog,
And with the drink thus secretly infused,
Wildness, great ideas, and hilarity ensued,
But the Great-Aunts were less than amused...

Holiday

Every day which passes, which we live
Through, takes us closer to the ending
Of the, year: a time to gather and give
Presents, observing the Yule and spending
Time with our special group -- not all
Necessarily super-beloved ones -- but we,
All of us, clan-together anyway,
Mood-lighted by our pagan pine tree,
To eat, drink, and mix-up, on a special day.      

Going To Starbucks

Going out into a Saturday,
A cold one, near the end
Of the year, out into the
Commons, with an old friend
Who, when all is said and
Done, is there to lend
A hand to hold, an ear
To listen, my friend for life,
Who happens to be my wife.

We know each other well,
Know more than we can say,
So we will sip our coffees, and
Not say much, out on this Saturday.

Upon Listening To Elton John’s “Rocket Man” – Late-1970s

Leaning back in my recliner,
I stare at the ceiling
Of my humble place,
Imagining the night sky beyond it,
And I get this spooky feeling
That the chair and I are clinging
To the surface of a planet reeling,
At great speed, through space.

Waterfowl And Breadcrusts

Feeding ducks at the pond, from a sack full
Of bread crusts, the birds which swim near,
Are the tame ones, the other, wild travelers
Stay further away, perhaps out of fear...
And my daughter ignores the feathered
Multitude, insisting, instead, on giving
Bread to a lone, misplaced and weathered
Bird, forced away to the edge by the flock,
It comes ashore, unafraid, takes bread
From her hand, it does not fuss or balk
Or run away, the strange ugly duck instead
Looks at us, with a seemingly human eye,
"How did I end-up here, and why?"

Long Live Rock

How to describe the punch-the-sky feeling,
The throbbing excitement inside me,
The first time I heard,  in 1970,
The vinyl album "Led Zeppelin III"...

Don't matter where I'm at,
Don't matter who I am,
All is changed by Page's
Fingers-on-the-frets, at 33 RPM.

World Order

A quick test of what
Civilization is all about:
You turn on the faucet,
Clean water comes out.

Russia

Cursed, but also blessed, to be located
On Eurasia, Vikings to the west, Turks
To the south, Chinese to the east, Russia
Is fated to find whatever wins and works
To ensure Slavic security and prosperity,
Starting with survival through the winter,
Russia endures, with guts and temerity.

Permanent Stranger

Living like a drop of oil,
Undissolved, in the water
Land of the gods, I toil,
Like other Japanese,
But do so in isolation
From the ancient tribe,
Which is called a nation
By outsiders, like me,
Who misunderstand it, from
Distance, across the sea.
Meanwhile, the Japanese
Live and work impermeably,
In clan, club, and cabal,
With oil-drop foreigners,
Dispersed among them all.

Suddenly Bare Tree

Yellow leaves piled along the gutter,
Where they were washed together
By a storm, which caused the utter
Nakedness of the winter Ginko tree,
Now completely stripped, with branches bare
Brown and gray, facing December's air.
Wasn't it just yesterday? When all
The glorious golden leaves were there,
On the branches, before their sudden fall.

Sayonara

A transient feeling of pressure
And warmth, the breath near
The back of my ear,
As we whisper and hug,
Before you disappear...

The Message Of The Reeds

The long reeds of grass
Have turned golden and
Brown, the cold winds pass
Over, causing wave-sway
And quiet rustling sounds,
In the waning of an autumn day,
Where I'm walking beside
The bowing yellow plants,
With a sense of transition inside.

12:12 PM, 12 December 2012

An event, rather, a moment, occurring
Only once in a hundred years or so,
Made by man's clocks, not the stars,
Five twelves, all lined up in a row
In a rare synchronous pattern for
A minute, then gone before I know.

12:12, 12/12/12

When Will We Learn?

A madman attacked a Connecticut school,
Spilling the blood of the children;
But honestly, didn't our culture of guns,
Enable the sicko that killed them?

Small Miracle On The Shrine Hill

On the winter trail to Suwa Shrine,
About halfway up the hill,
In a spot of winter sunshine,
Stands a hardy Daffodil,
Who somehow got its seasons
Crossed, and doesn't grow
In springtime, for reasons
Mysterious and unknown
It shares its beauty, all alone,
When most everything around
is cold and dull and browned,
Such a wondrous, holy, sight,
Blooming green, yellow, and white.

December Shelter

The windows rattle and shake,
Assaulted by winter winds,
But the windows do not break,
Despite the frosty turbulence,
They protect the warm dry
Space, where I hide,
From arctic's deadly breath outside.

The Protection Of Toads

Your schedule doesn't matter,
Or the busy plans you made,
You stop to gaze in wonder,
At the glowing toads' parade.

Luminous amphibians on
Patrol in a municipal park,
What are they protecting
Us from, out there in the dark?

Cavemen's Legacy

There is in us a power,
We feel it when we gather
Around the fire, sharing
meat and stories, rather
Than staring at the sky
Alone, this power in us
Warms, protects, it is why
We endure, even thrive,
In the unforgiving place
Where we must survive.

Real Estate's Broken Promise

She sees the sea, and seasons
Passing, from the balcony of a
Condo bought, by him, for reasons
Related to taxes, the sea stretching
Out over to Chiba, its beauty not
Always obvious or fetching
In shades of slate, gray, and blue,
The whole point of the property
Was supposedly: the view,
Which, admittedly can take
One's breath away, on those few
Days of the year, when she
Can actually sense the sun's
Shift, and smell the ancient sea,
But lately, given loneliness and liquor,
It pleases, only incidentally...