Rice Wine 日本酒

First cup, man drinks wine,
Second cup, wine drinks wine,
Third cup, wine drinks man...
These simple truths, if
Heeded, rather than
Ignored, could keep some
Troubles tamed, or solved,
Before they come.

Company Loyalty

The supervisor, who told us to be
Patient, and to persevere,
Grabbed his golden parachute,
And is now, no longer here.

Bovine Revenge

When the flying matador hits the
Ground, the shock will rearrange
His bones, and it will be the angry
Bloody bull, who wins for a change...

A small, rare win, which makes
Up, just a bit, for all the other
Bulls, who ended up as steaks...

Rest In Peace Mitsuyo and Rui, Found Dead, In Osaka, 25 May 2013

Trapped, and too afraid
To call-out for help,
Circumstances made
The perfect cold prison,
Sheltering, with her child,
In a lonely room, trying
To hide from an evil him,
She ends up dying
Of starvation, along
With her son ... Such
A pathetic and wrong
Way to end, such a sad
Ending, to a marriage,
Gone very, very, bad...

梅雨

The light slowly grows, gray,
And breezy, bringing damp  
Heavy air, on the first day
Of the rainy season.

My Rugby Life

He wore-out his strength,
Spent his energy, gave his all,
In the scrum on the grass,
Tackling, running after a ball
With the other young toughs
Sweating through a cool fall
Afternoon, with nothing much
To show for it afterwards
Besides bruises, cuts, and such
Satisfaction that can be had
From advancing a ball across
A line, heroically -- yet it's sad
So much was expended, in a loss.

Going Up?

The smell left in the elevator,
It is accurate to say,
Is much better in the morning,
Than at the end of the day.

Digital Hand-Held Devices

All along the platform they stand,
Waiting for the train, each staring
At I-phones, held in every hand,
Mostly unaware, not caring
To break away, maybe to see
Who the hypnotized people
Around them, might happen to be.      

Somewhere In Turkey, Near Syria

I lay my tired daughter down on a thin, borrowed, mat,
As the darkness comes, and the mountain cold
Wind flows, blowing over the brown flat
Refugee camp, which we now must call
Home, because everything else is gone,
And I hug my daughter, for it is really all
I can do, to try to keep her from crying
About being cold, and my wife will not weep,
For she is bravely fighting, she is really trying
Not to totally lose it, and so, we finally sleep...

Beatles Unplugged

An old song,
Like from long
Ago, re-awakes
Something inside,
Which I guess
Went to hide
From remorseless
Time and tide,
Eroding, advancing
An erasure of the part
Of me, which should be dancing...

Bosozoku 暴走族

Young Japanese tough guys, riding
On loud, chopped, motorcycles...
Young Japanese losers, hiding
Behind a rebellious noise of
By-passed mufflers, blaring
Horns, all revved-up and loud,
Their mechanical racket declaring
Some sort of rage against the day,
And whatever made them this way...

 
 

AKB48

The young women dressed like dolls,
And sometimes in spandex and leather,
Sing and dance, Lolita-like, erotic,
And no one stops to wonder whether
This is right, because it's just too
Compelling, and really sells anyway,
Innocent girl-toys, for all to view...

Post-Golden Week Senryu

Life can be simple...
Like taking pleasure,
From a good bowl of ramen
- - - - - - - - - -
The beauty of the roses
Blooming, makes me
Reach out to hold her hand
- - - - - - - - - -
Writing words,
Hot, swelling with meaning,
In a cool quiet room.
- - - - - - - - - -
Riding in the elevator,
Betting that an earthquake
Won't happen.

A Trick Of Memory

The trail of a forgotten thought,
Spirals, in a sprinkling of sparks,
Up and away into the dark aught
Of where inspiration goes to die...

The fleeting sparkles of light
Are oddly, sadly, beautiful, despite
Their momentary appearance, like
A shooting star in the night...

Meanwhile, the thought, now
Forgotten, which was duly sent,
But not received, is somehow
Making itself known, somewhere
Else, wherever it went.

Yokosuka Verny Park, May 2013

The smell from the roses,
In full bloom, permeates
The park, perfuming the
Breeze... it naturally creates
A sense of well-being,
For the camera carrying
Folks, who are seeing,
Smelling, the gift of Spring.

Walk Into The Grinder

I don't know if I've ever had a stranger
Feeling than when I knowingly
Walked, dutifully, towards danger...
My fear of what lay ahead being
Smaller than my fear that the
Others around might end up seeing
Me as a coward... So into the melee
I marched, and was coldly aware
Of the price I might have to pay...
But move forward I did, like a
Stoic god-boy, right into the fray...
It still fucking amazes me, what
I did, so long ago, on that awful day.

Rotation Meditation

We lay down at the end of the turn
Of our Earth away from the sun,
To face the dark, the day is done...

And we, no longer blinded by
The light, and the multitude acts
Of living, can sense in the starlit sky
A different, quieter, set of facts,
Which urge us to question why
We fought, or strained to earn,
In the fleeting light, before the turn...

Dragon Versus Samurai

Japan and China have been anything but friends
For over fifteen hundred years, no real peace
Between them, where avoiding war depends
On perceptions of power, calculations of
Benefits versus loss after the bloodshed ends.

Golden Week Road Jam

Japanese people taking
Vacations simultaneously,
Has a way of making
Terrible traffic congestion...

Better to split-up your holidays.
Would be my suggestion.

Vernal Fever

Took a day off from work,
In order not to miss,
A beautiful spring time
Day, like this...