shade

unlike his brother who succumbed
to post-cancer surgery pain and implications,
the old dog managed to reach the end:
a full, long, - and i wager - happy, life.
he was chilling in the shade
when i went out for errands that Sunday morning,
he was chilling in the shade
when i came back late for lunch.
he passed quietly a little after that late lunch.
we planted this grandpa in the backyard.
perhaps in a different world
a dog tree will grow from his grave
from which we'd be picking puppies when in season.
i sense eyebrows raise at my musings.
i'm sorry, it was just...
it was a scorching early Sunday afternoon
out of the shade.



2022.apr.05

the distant present (halloween for the decades)

somewhere, the true world clock
takes back time by another second.
some time ago, the earth began
to rotate backwards.
revolve backwards.

somewhere over middle eastern sands
someone decides to poke america.
some american missiles fly over.
2001 war leftovers?

somewhere, the world rebuilds
another border. around my city,
every other street corner
puts up a barrier.

and some time soon, a foreign songbird
singing north from here, will entice me
to add more to my music CDs
oh these 2020s
dressed up like 2000s

it must be halloween for the decades



2021.feb.28 (or it could be some time 2001)

eriS

singer and song
arrest my attention, again.
silence, my treasured silence, lay upon your
altar, my discordia.
knelt, i kneel under your
influence; not fluent, in your tongue.

even so, ever so
reliant to fall to, and
intoxicated by, your honeyed melodies.



2021.jan.29

the haven where storms sleep

i fell into the haven
where storms could sleep
and there i found her asleep
undressed
of her winds, undressed
of her lightnings, undressed
of her thunders, she was
a different kind of
beautiful -

i fell for her serenity
the danger speeding towards
being realized, that thrill,
still, at peace she was
a different kind of
exhilarating -

still in a way she was the same,
she kept me rooted in place,
enraptured albeit with
a different kind of
spell,
standing there waiting to be
dismantled by her to debris -

then i fell for the moment
she opened her eyes to mine
she yawned a spark, exhaled
a crackle, a hint
of herself into the air
and at me, and for me, a smile
as she put on
her winds, she put on
her lightnings, she put on
her thunders, and i was
standing there waiting to become
a different kind of
alive



2020.jan.28

something like pale rose

her fingernails' color is the color of her fingernails
something like pale rose -
no shade of paint can touch them
nor can add to their already naked perfection
yet i am whimsical -
i toy with perfection with toys of perfection
like a soft kiss stolen on one of her nails
as she sleeps, and she stirs a little, smiles a little
shatters the world a little -
a small butterfly dipping a leg to break a still pond
invoking a whirlpool pulling at my heart
pulling a whirlwind invoked out of my heart -
blowing me out of Oz into a magical land called Kansas
landing on an evil girl and her evil dog
leaving her magical shoes for me to loot from her corpse
and they could have brought me home
if only they fit me like
something like pale rose
fit on the nails of my lover



2019.dec.17

negative thunder

for my third and final wish
i wished you were god for seven
days and you rested for six.
still, you did not disappoint,
on the last day you created
negative thunder, a deafening
silence that preceded a pitch
black lightning, mute
and muting, it absorbed all
the unnecessary noises of
the world, and it is the perfect
gift to me, i cannot ever
ask for more



2019.oct.14

i do not remember ravens

i do not remember ravens
perched or flying overhead,
cawing at my steps, each twice
as heavy as the one before.
shrillness weaving into song-like laughter:
haaa. haaa. haaa.
so unlike -

i do remember rain,
light and forgiving
but absent these days,
weeks away.
i am yearning for -

i remember some words,
reinvigorated on my tongue
like rediscovered treasure,
they taste like the season,
a middle-aged spring,
of melons, cherries, or -

of other words i remember slivers,
they resemble dismembered notes
at the tip of my tongue -
unrealized like a bell frozen
at the midst of pealing,
a wind left to fill a sigh left hanging.
they taste like ash,
fragile paper crumbling,
insistent as you,
to remain unremembered.


.:. Osaka, 18 years later, sequel to a quiet wave farewell



2019.jun.03