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Haiku
oh, Issa, pour me—
some fresh metaphor
from your cup
on top of Fuji
i am nothing but
an ant
being a sponge,
I absorb the seawater
as well as its salt
lilies turn yellow
my love to lilies
stays green
through the mist,
nobody is coming...
an empty nest
poor little louse
living in the mess
of my oily hair
the hot kettle—
is busy looking for—
the water
hand in hand,
we'll climb Mount Fugi—
in tomorrow's dream
the more climbing up—
the less struggle with
the falling rock
climbing up,
towards the dragon's mouth—
an ant
sleepy cat,
giving a great yawn—
to the passing—by rat
one fly,
just one, in my morning—
cup of coffee
a sudden shower,
the cow is seeking refuge
behind the scarecrow
first rainbow—
a crow arguing with
a sparrow
wagging her tail—
finally, the cricket
is under control
oh, Issa:
forty years old, yet, my blood type
is still B*
* B is a rare blood type in Japan.
It carries a sense of melancholy.
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Free Verse
Born to Dance
with Words
Come dance with me,
with words unlike common words...
High leaps beyond borders,
where you will see
what a butterfly may see
when in love with a rose,
what a cricket can hear
after a heavy rain shower,
what a sea can say
at the first touch with the shore...
Come soar with me,
once with, once against the wind...
across clouds, mountains and hills,
but, under the grace of the moment...
Come defeat the dragon,
fight the dark,
trace the rainbow,
fool the wolf,
eat some of Little Red Riding Hood’s cakes,
wear Cinderella’ charming shoes,
feel the wonder of the word...
For the world
will one day tell—
Merely, those poets can sing,
the sparrows’ merry songs.
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