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733 · Aug 2018
His little heart
Akira Chinen Aug 2018
My heart could not beat without his
so small
so delicate
in a world of its own

I have known grief and tragedy
heartache and lost
the blue loneliness of depression
as cold and dark as an empty sea

I have known love
in many different faces
in many different ways
I have walked through
its endless fields
of flowers burning
in the palms of eternity

but this love
in his heart

it is born from legends
of fairy tales forgotten
prayers from old gods
whose name we never knew
the magic and wonder
that is only found
in the heart of children

all children

and how blessed are we
to know their smiles
and to hear their laughter
to be touched by
their infinite wisdom

so simple
so true
so beautiful

how is it that we have forgotten
we too were once children
how did we lose our way
where in our education
were we taught the things
that stripped us
of our own magic and wonder

and will we be foolish enough
to hand this same education
down to our children too

hope

at times is a heavy burden
a burden we must not drop
a burden we must carry
for our children sit atop this hope
they play and laugh
and imagine
within this hope
they carry and protect
the love of wonder and magic

here in this hope
is their better tomorrow
their better world

I squeeze him a little tighter
and a little longer
hoping he will manage
to hold onto his childish wisdom
despite his education

and I feel his little heart
echo against mine

so small
so delicate
building a world of its own
731 · Apr 2017
the loneliness of love
Akira Chinen Apr 2017
He must have been lonely
between the love poems
and the easy women
and the rare
beautifully alive women
between the thighs
wrapped around his head
grinding against his mouth
tight as a muzzle
between the blood
and the beer
and the wine
and the ink
between the bottles
and the *****
and the bars
and the shots
between the wins
and the loses
and the horses
and the races
He must have been lonely
and in love with it
the misery of it
the cheap breath of it
the loneliness of love
and it must have been beautiful
and blind
and mad
and so so alive
722 · May 2016
God and the Devil
Akira Chinen May 2016
The poets and their lines
The lovers and their crimes
All for the sweet taste
Of the mystery of passion
The crack of the whip
Hidden in the devils laugh
If you listen closely
You can tell he is just obeying orders
I snuck up to heavens gate
To steal a glance at paradise
And the sight I saw...
It made me blind
Just sin and sin and sin...
Such decadence
Before I was caught
And cast back out
I swear this is what I heard
Shouts...
Load and hard...
It was god
Moaning the devils name
Akira Chinen Jul 2017
She laid on top of him with their bare skin kissing
and whispered in his ear,
"poetry is not only made of words
and all poems are not written down
poetry lives in our hearts
and dances on our breaths
it is all of Kubla Khan in the moment
before and after a kiss
it is the marriage of Blake's Heaven and Hell
and all his rural pens and pipes and Songs of Innocence
in a brief glimpse of eternity as felt in a single sigh
as our lovers have left our rooms and our hearts
it is in every word of fear and trembling
of Kierkegaard in a sigh of joy and grief
as our lives close chapter after chapter
it is in the bloom and the root of every flower
of Baudelaires fevered mind
as we lay and move breathless
in the hours of sin and decadence
it is there hiding under the skin
and the stars and gardens of a skirt
with pleasures waiting to be explored
by eager fingertips
it is there in the flesh growing hard
beneath a loosened belt waiting to feel
the heat and twist of a wet tongue and moist mouth
it is all the loneliness of the broken typewriter
without a ribbon and missing the metal head of the "v"
and the hard strikes of a mind gone mad
with too much to say and no way to say it
it is in the blood and the ***** and the bird
and the song only Bukowski could understand
in the way he understood things
it is there in the sounds of lust grinding and pounding
and plowing and slithering and sliding
our bodies into and over and under
and behind and before and above and below each other
it is there in the silence of dreams
of light and truth when we become more than
flesh and pleasure and delight and joy
where our souls collide and become one
with the thread and fabric and vibration of love
it is in these moments without ink and paper
and pages and books and unrecorded bliss
that we become words of fire
and poetry that lives and dies on our every breath
as we say more than just I Love You
without writing or saying a thing"

and they kissed again and fell into dreams
and sleep and farther into love without saying
or thinking or needing another word
713 · Jun 2016
The last line
Akira Chinen Jun 2016
It starts with a scribble and a scratch
And the bleeding of a pen
And the carving of the pulp
Words pile and puddle
And emotions gather and release
Joy and grief
And longing  and anticipation
Its verbal mental *******
Scarring paper with confessions
And confusion and grand illusion
Of dreams with miserable  conclusions
And I'm begging for her affection
And shes grasping for him
And he's slinging arrows  for anothers attention
Who has a cold shoulder
And a broken heart
And shes trying to write herself
Out of her hole
But only finds herself
Deeper and more broken and hurt
Carrying the immortal curse
Of loving the pain of the heartache
Of the scribble and the scratch
And the beliving of the ink
And the desperation of finding hope
In the last line
https://youtu.be/-dZSLJwKlEI
711 · Feb 2015
She Must Be...
Akira Chinen Feb 2015
She must be of heaven to exsist between
  reality and dreams and have her face
   not change
She must be of all the cosmos to so
  effortlessly outshine every sun, star,
    and moon
She must be the secret whisper of sleep
  to calm the monster and give its heart
   peace
She must be the hours hidden between
  the seconds of when one starts to
    fall
She must be the madness and beauty
  and perfection of love
709 · Sep 2018
When I say I want you...
Akira Chinen Sep 2018
I mean I want you in a way
that means I want everything

I want to devour you
until I become you
I want to savor
every sweet and bitter
and light and dark
part of you
until I know every secret
you would share with me

I dont want to rush into you
I want to take it slow and easy
I want to spend an eternity
exploring and discovering
all the curves and mounds
of skin and muscle and bone

I want to learn every word
of every hope
and wish
and prayer
you carry in your blood by heart

I want to know every song
that makes you smile
every poem that makes you weep
every book that has changed you

I want to know all of the history
that made you who you are today
and all the dreams and hopes
of who you want to be tomorrow

I want to be part of the kiss
that makes your heart supernova
and then be pulled into the gravity
of the center of darkness left behind
and then relight the fires
of your still warm heart
and watch it grow
and burn brighter
and bigger than before

I want to be part of the journey
you are on to a better self
and learn how to become
a better me as I travel by your side

I want to be devoured
by your eyes
and let you split open my gut
and let all my lies
and truths spill out
leaving nothing hidden

I want to show you every thing
I have carried in my heart
I want you to know every scar
and broken piece of it  
I want to learn and teach you
the name of every star in the sky

I want to read you every poem
that has made me feel
there must be something more
to inhaling and exhaling
than just living and dying

I want to cry in front of you
as I read the favorite part
of my favorite book

I want you to know more about me
than I know about myself

I want to give you the map
and the key
and the bed
of my heart and my soul

I want to be everything you need
whenever you need it
I want you to know
how horribly and painfully
shy I am
and that for you
I want to be brave
I am willing to be brave
and I have never
been able to be brave before

I am willing to break for you
I am willing to cry over you
I am ready to stop hiding from
and neglecting my feelings of love

I am willing to give it away
and risk not getting it back

because when I say I want you
I mean I love you
and when I say I love you
I mean I want to give you
all of my life

whatever I have left
in my heart

I want to spend it on you

and if you don’t want me

thats okay
you’ve already given me more
than I ever would have asked for
and more than i ever
would have deserved
704 · Nov 2016
fevered mind
Akira Chinen Nov 2016
Sweetness
I know your just a dream and an illusion illustrated by a fevered mind and painted by a broken heart
Dark grey eyes in a black and white photograph of something innocent with a lustfull wonder and a soulful gaze
And you are in beauty and love the definition of perfection
and maybe I'll fall in love or find madness or maybe it will be a little of both and it will be an impossible thing made possible
I could love you past the infinte unknown and through the nothing of what comes next and find you in my past and futute lifes and love you more each time
Yet if I reached out to touch you and moved my lips in front of yours and hesitated for a moment of what felt like eternity
and then moved again
in an instant would you not disappear
and fade
The paint dryed to dust and carried off with the wind of this waking dream
and the illustration turned to mist
and ghost of memory
Then you would be gone and the love would still burn over the surface of my heart and your picture would still flicker in black and white on the walls of my soul
The smell of gun smoke and gasoline to remind me of an impossible dream
And if you instead reached out to me and hesitated and then...
Would our worlds collide
Would you pull me into dreams and illustrations of books and
tales of impossible love
Or would you be made real and be of flesh and bone and blood and passion of something soul and wonder and innocence
Or would we both be pulled somewhere inbetween and walk a silver line above the sky and clouds and find our story already written in the stars
Our every chapter and our ever time and our every name and our ever love
702 · Aug 2014
Who are we..
Akira Chinen Aug 2014
Who are we but monsters
  to allow ourselves to become
   what we have become
Devouring electricity at night to
  produce an artificial glow
Light pollution on the grow
Pushing the twinkling of the stars
  out of view
And all we're left with is a dull dark
  greyish blue
We can no longer see the beauty of
  how small we really are
The earth just a pebble compared to
  sun and that sun just a grain of sand
   in the cosmos that reaches farther than
    we can comprehend
And like fools we play the part of god
Toying with the balance of life and death
Deconstructing the grace of innocence
The time of youth being pushed back
Children growing up too fast
Stealing away their finite hours to
   enjoy their toys
And we shackle their dreams and hopes
And allow them to believe our lies
Teach them that cash flow is more important
  than blood flow
That there's nothing wrong with ******
  at times of war
Even though in today's time and age there's
  no sane way to explain what we are
    fighting for
Love should always beat hate... but it doesn't
Compassion should come easier than
  complacency...but it doesn't
Kindness should exceed greed... but it doesn't
Who are we but monsters and fools pretending
  to be gods
696 · Mar 2017
dream madder
Akira Chinen Mar 2017
dream with spit and fire
dream angery and rabid
dream with a heart on
dream with a *******
dream when you're dripping and ******* when you're eager with lust
dream when you're desperate in love dream when you're hopeless and broken dream when you're lonely and lost
dream when you're bent over
and taking it all
dream when you're right on the edge
and ready to jump
dream when you're living
to contradict death
dream when you're dying
to live through one more breath
dream while you're  petting a cat
dream while you're chasing a rabbit
dream while you're spinning a web  
dream while you're losing your mind
dream while you're heart is flying away
dream while you're falling apart
dream under your blankets and sheets
dream under a dream full of stars
dream under a skirt
dream in the grasp of a fist
dream while your
breathing fire with dragons
dream while you're
reading faires their tales
dream wearing a hat and a coat
dream with your clock set three clouds
past the north star
and dream madder and madder
and madder
694 · Jun 2016
Heart Shaped Seed
Akira Chinen Jun 2016
You undid the stitches of
My heart
And I watched
My broken pieces
Unravel and fall
Apart
Blood and tears
Did flow
As your gentle stroke
Soothed ache and hurt
You pulled out the final thread
And tossed away
The last sharp shard
Revealing a new
Beat and pulse
You placed a new
Heart shaped seed
Full of dreams
And hope
And sewed your name
To the blood and skin
At the place
Where once my
Broken heart had been
692 · Jan 2018
the gun
Akira Chinen Jan 2018
You may not have pulled the trigger
but your fingerprints were on every bullet
that left the barrel of the gun
so when looking at the dead heart
pinned and bleeding on the wall
know you did your part to stop its beating
and that innocence is something you can't reclaim
with the white lies painted on the teeth
framed within your crooked smile
and now I see your beauty
was nothing more than smoke and mirrors
off the reflection of the gun
692 · Aug 2014
Never tempting...
Akira Chinen Aug 2014
It had the smell of love
It had the hot sticky sweat of love
It had the urgency and reckless
  passion of love
It had that god awful feel of love
It had the perfect illusion of love
But the madness was missing
And without the madness
  there was no music for their
   demons to dance to
No moon for their monsters
  to howl at
It was just flesh pilled on top
  of flesh
Loneliness dressed up in the
  guise of love
Imitating love, moving like love
But never falling like love
Never tempting that danger
Never tempting  madness
Never tempting the promises
  of forever
Never tempting true love
691 · Oct 2017
Hallmark Haiku Poetry
Akira Chinen Oct 2017
We've been dumb-downed
to Hallmark Haiku poetry
that doesn't even follow form
or know what haiku is
other than some type
of Chinese or Asian or Nip crap
but don't worry were not being racist
because we have a friend
that has a subservient Japanese wife
who always has dinner ready
and doesn't mind bending over
and taking it up the ***
whenever he needs to get off at home
and she doesn't complain about
how or who he gets his happy endings
when out and about after office hours
and I wish I could be so blatantly
lewd and charming to walk up to anyone
and say whatever it is people say to someone
to get them to come home with them
and take off their clothes
and pretend to be looking for love
but only really care about
getting off at being normal
but I'm so painful shy
that I can't manage to talk whenever
an attractive stranger or even friend
sits a little too close
and my vocabulary is reduced
to one and two syllable sounds and head nods
and anything of importance
that I might want or have to say
gets locked in future regrets
of staring at the ceiling
somewhere in the darkness above my head
and life has turned into a media circus
of social update status *******
where hearts keep our ***** hard
and likes get our ******* wet
and even though none of us are truly alone
we all sit in our private cages digitally *******
to try and **** our feelings of loneliness
as we purchase sympathy cards
with cheap Hallmark Haikus pretending to look for love
691 · May 2016
Messages and Poems
Akira Chinen May 2016
The poems were just falling out, I was walking into words much like stumbling through spider webs in the dark.  Some coming too fast to have time to find a sketch pad, or a new one already dancing in my head before the last one was written down.  Post it notes started to come in handy.  Waking up in the middle of the night with words waiting and glowing on my bedroom wall, hands stumpling in the dark for my phone and my eyes not yet focused but my fingers tapping away.  My admiration and wonder for you started to bloom into the sensation of falling... and then I started to fall.    

Messages weren't so easy... no where to hide.  My fingers would hover over the keyboard and my eyes transfixed on an empty message box for hours...sometimes  even days.  My heart wanted to shout and shout and shout, but my mind was terrified and shy and wanted to stay silent.  Reason and sense said say nothing at all... just walk away.  But my heart was caving into the madness of impossible possibilities and beautiful tragedies with happy endings.  I ended up stuck between the two and sent small talk, constantly afraid of saying too much and steering  clear of all the things I really wanted to say.  Hiding all my secrets in the plain sight of poetry and silencing my heart through the messages...

What was happening
How did I fall so fast
It was crazy
And mad
And beautiful
And it made me smile
And the simplest message
Made my heart howl
And race
And I felt
Excited and
Exhilarated
And
Terrified
And
Happy
And everything
No matter how
Repetitive or mundane
Or ordinary
Everything was
Suddenly beautiful
Every part of
Every day and
Every night
And every dream
Everythig beautiful
Everything about me
Started falling
For every part
Of you

And I could keep everything safe as long as the messages stayed simple, careful to never say too much.  Save all that for the middle of the night, stumbling in the dark, out of focus, over the top poetry.  Writing between the lines and hiding  behind metaphors of falling, careful not to let on that I'm madly and completely In love with you.  Because that... that just doesn't make sense.  Unless, you ask the mad truth beating in my heart.  There, in the crazy beauty of it all it does.  It makes perfect sense.  Because there I can hide behind...

Every word
Every syllable
Every letter...
And I fall a little more
Falling faster
Falling deeper
Every sound
Every image
Every message
And my heart escapes me
Beating wildly
Flying madly
Every morning
Every day
Every evening
Always dreaming
Always smiling
Always falling
For everything
Of you
All last weekend I stared at the empty message box... not really wanting to say more than, somehow I miss you... but never did
689 · Mar 2015
Electric
Akira Chinen Mar 2015
Electric Jesus flash me those pearly
  whites
Show me who is worthless
Show me who to loathe
Show me who to ******
Electric Jesus plug me into your power
  strips and mechanized hips
Tell me what is wrong
Tell me what is right
Tell me what to love
Electric Jesus with your RGB sedation
  sweeping across the nation
Teach me all your sins
Teach me all your greed
Teach me all your hate
Electric Jesus preach our needs and keep
  us on our knees
More Money!  Praise Electric!
More Power!  Praise Electric!
More, More, More ELECTRIC!
686 · Apr 2015
Is Love so cruel
Akira Chinen Apr 2015
Is love so cruel
Am I only destined to be stuck dreaming
  of you
While you're never to be dreaming
  of me
We're living our lives in different times
  and different places
And I would come to you
If it were my face you saw when
  you dreamed
If it were my name you whispered
  in your sleep
If I knew I would never have to leave
And if I could just have five minutes
  or an hour or a night
If I could only tell you how far into
  my life my heart has taken this dream
I've seen my feet step off of a plane
I've seen you sitting across from me
I've seen us laughing and crying and
  sighing
I've seen my awkward attempt at our
  first kiss
I've seen you chase and catch me under
  the sheets
I've watched you under the moon that
   turned into the sun and the sun back
   into the moon
I've seen the plans and proposal and
   wedding over looking the sea
I've seen little versions of you chasing
  little versions of me
I've seen my eyes grow old watching the
  eternal beauty in yours
I've seen myself die and I've seen myself
  waiting for you on the other side
And I've seen the whole story over
  again and again
But is love so cruel that its only real in
  this dream
And never to surface as we live our lives
  in different times and different places
You've filled my heart and now it
  overflows
And you already live deeply and eternaly
  in my heart
If only you could come and be by my side
And we could both find that love isn't
  always so cruel
682 · Aug 2014
Tick Tick Tock
Akira Chinen Aug 2014
Tick Tick Tock, another game of clocks
Hands full of sand, boney fingers
   grabbing what they can
Time flowing from the wrists
Blood crashing on the shores
Poison seeping into the soil
Life bleeding from the soul
Eyes dried by their tears
Lips without emotion kiss
   and drain the ocean
Warm flesh hiding cold bones
No one is living
We're all pretending
Open eyes with nobody home
Tick Tick Tock, the dying song
  for all
681 · Nov 2016
secrets
Akira Chinen Nov 2016
Whisper of your ***** little secrets with your pretty little lips
Tell me of your dark delights kiss after kiss
Undress your sinful story and leave its dust jacket on the floor
Wrap me in your hidden pleasures while you pull your skirt above your hips
Drag out my hearts temptation to the surface of the lust within my skin
Its impossible not to love you while under the spell of your charms of wickedness
Melt away inhibitions and moral and marrow and bone and leave nothing but carnal rage desperate for gratification at the brink of death
Leave not a trace of soul or virtue before we tumble into flight and fall and crash over the edge of no return
And secrets shared become secrets kept
Locked beneath hidden memory
of hearts flesh and dream
Where nothing done in love
Is remembered as unclean
679 · May 2016
Dream, dream dreaming
Akira Chinen May 2016
Terrified... no... not terrified
Mad?  Of course I am mad!
Stircken with madness!

My every emotion heightened
I can hear and feel every sound from heaven, earth, and hell

Impossible to describe when or  how she started to haunt me so.
All day and night in dreams she walked with me.  
Something in her voice... something dancing there in her words
And those eyes, eyes more endless than the oceans
Yes, her eyes!

Yes, her eyes drove me into this insanity.
Her eyes, heavy in dark storms, dancing with demons,
Hiding beauty not meant for mortals to gaze upon
And in their darkness hides something more
Something covered by such black grace
Guarded and tormented by devil and beast

Her   HEART

I dare say this
In no napping nor no dreaming
Will you find
No treasure, no paradise, no living creature
Could be as lovely
As her heart
And her poor heart trapped there
In this private hell


What was I to do?
She hardly knew my name but already
I found myself desperate for her affection...


I awoke in the middle of the night
My soul on fire
My body drenched in longings warmth
My chest ready to burst with madness
The devil sitting at the end of my bed
Politely sipping tea
"Bad dream?" He said with a snicker in his teeth
"No...no... I know..."
He inhaled deeply,
"I can smell it on you."
His teeth growing wider with his smile.
"Love...that's it, isn't it?"
I answered not...
Nothing good would come of it...
He had murdered my heart and soul before
More than once or twice
"Come, come now, son... you know I mean no harm."
The devil continued
"What a beautiful sight, this dream of yours.  Oh... those eyes... You poor boy, you never had a chance"
He laughed and sipped and sipped and laughed.

"Love sweet love... Is there nothing more sickly heavenly than love.  You fools will do everything and anything for it...
Lie, cheat, steal, ******...
Anything that is, accept,... treat it well
"

And ****
He was gone

He was right though
My own heart
Dead and buried beneath the floor boards of my soul
Hidden in the darkness
Safe from the ills and pains and beauty of  

LOVE

And it was my own hands
And sinister villainous laughter
That had murdered and buried it there
So long ago
Never never
Wanting to feel its beat again
Its foolish beating

Beat beat
Beating

Too high and too quick
Had it flown
Loving and then breaking
Leaving me alone to
Its heartache and woe
Too many times
Too many times to bare
So I hid in the dark from it
Standing still for many days
So still for many nights
Until it knew not where I was
It trembled to think itself alone
It cried there and I nearly laughed
Frozen I remained
Listening to it beat and cry and cry and beat
Then quickly I leapt upon it
And grasped it with both hands
Suffocating the life from it
Holding it down waiting
For its beating

Its beat beat
Beating to stop

And it slowed
And slowed and slowed
Until at last
It stopped
And I knew, oh I smiled to know
I knew I was forever more
Safe from the ills and pain and beauty of

LOVE


I wept, oh how I wept
Why is a heart so magnificent
So lost and troubled in despair
Her heart, so weary
So dreary
Such painful beating

Beat, beat
Beating

Right outside
My dreaming

Dream, dream
Dreaming

What could I do
Other than sit and watch
The horror of this show
My hands no more than ghosts
My voice ached to silent screams
If I could only help
If I could only love

LOVE
Her  HEART


And then I heard it...
Softly
Slowly
My dead heart

My dead
Dead heart

Pounding gently beneath the floor boards
Lost in the darkness of my soul
It grew louder
It grows louder still
I must be hearing its ghost
It cannot be

My dead
Dead heart

But louder and louder
It rang in my ears
My soul trembled from the sound of its beating

Its beat beat
Beating

For the ills and pains
Of love
This could not be
I paced the darkness
In nervous strides
My heart
Was to forever
Remain lifeless and lost
Beneath forgotten floorboards
Deep deep down
In the bowels
Of my lonely soul
I felt its death
Felt it give its last breath and beat
In mine own murderous hands

The ills and pains of love
Macking ridicule of my past deed
No! No... it mustn't be...
Louder... louder... it rang
Sound reverberating from
The hollow of

My dead
Dead heart

Faster and harder and louder
It pounded relentlessly
Pounding like the wings of a mad black bird
Echoing laughter from its beak made of devils horn
I heard... I knew...

That beat
Beat beating

Death had released my heart
Unable to hold and hide and keep it safe from
The ills and pains...
And most of all...
The beauty of

LOVE

No slower than lightning
My heart burst forth
Shattering the hidden floorboards
Splintering the depths
Of my soul
With new ills and pains and beauty of

LOVE

Off it flew
Such foolish flight
Drunk with courage
Oh that stupid stupid heart

Beat beat
Beating

A fools quest
A knights death
Off it went
Beating its black wings
Off toward devil and beast and despair
Guided by the sound
Of her heart
The painful

Beat beat
Beating

That beautiful sound
Right outside my

Dream, dream
Dreaming
678 · Jan 2016
I...
Akira Chinen Jan 2016
I miss you
And I know it all
Seems as if its
Just abstract flirtation
And hopeless poetry
For the spirit of romantic gesture
And that it isn't truely...
That deep craving
Of endless oceans
And time weathered shores
Of waves cashing
With every beat
Of a heart
So desperately
And sickly
In love
That it could
Never die
Or be
Broken
And the simple
Madness of the truth
Isn't able to be
Writen or spoken
With any alphabet
Or language
And I could
Never describe
The how or when
Of it all
But I do
Know I will
Always be falling
Here
In this place
Where
I miss you
676 · Sep 2018
Rise Up
Akira Chinen Sep 2018
The crows are going
  to rise up
over the black asphalt
  city skyline

singing into the
  blood red sky
   hearts crowned
    with fire and hope

flying high and free
   flying over
     the mountain tops

singing of the
   promised land

singing for the dead
   but not forgotten

singing words
  of flame
    and poetry

singing for
   freedom
     and unity
674 · Sep 2014
Liars and Thieves
Akira Chinen Sep 2014
Liars and thieves doing nothing but spilling their corporate greed to the billionaires and share holders.
Bleeding the poor and denying the hunger
Throwing out mountains of food
False apologies and the facade of charitable acts
Making excuses for their criminal acts
Looking the other way while saying its possible to survive on an outdated minimum wage.
Billions with a ******* "B"
That's how much profit their making
While forcing you down to your knees
Working till your fingers bleed
Expecting you to sacrifice your pride,principles, and basic human needs.
672 · Aug 2016
Reaching the end
Akira Chinen Aug 2016
Take a dream to a star
****** the man in the moon
Put a bullet in his back
Watch the sky crack
Walk along the fallen pieces in the air
You will find it easiest this way
Don't mistake your tears for the rain
You will only get lost in the waves
It might feel like its been weeks
Of weeping in a dream
And thats when you will find
A starfish in a noose
Hanging just out of reach
You won't be able to take another step
Without finding your own death
You will be at the beginning of new dreams
When you find yourself
At oceans end
671 · Feb 2017
dying under the moonlight
Akira Chinen Feb 2017
He was dying under
the moonlight of her smile
Dying to comfort her aches
Dying to relieve her pain
Dying to stop her tears
And he would use his last breath
to show her she was always
loved beautifully by his heart
669 · Dec 2015
Big Brother
Akira Chinen Dec 2015
Is that a lizard or a leaf dancing in the street
Can you feel the bad weather blowing through town
Shhhh... Do you feel there's a stranger lurking around
Idle hands painting idle gossip
Nothing goes unseen
Big brother is watching
He's watching you
Oh yea
He's watching me
Don't you want to give him something to see
Maybe a leaf or a lizard dancing in the street
Akira Chinen Jul 2016
I had planned on going out
To drink a little too much
To bury sense and love
Between the legs of lust and sin
I stopped at the bookstore
In between home and my night of debauchery
Drinking money in my wallet
Words in my hand

I nearly cried

Reminded of the injustice
That spreads its ugly colors
Throughout our human history
Just the thought of what so many had no choice but to endure
Just to survive day to day
The lives lost to hate and ignorance
Mothers grieving their children
Killed over nothing other than their color
The death toll only outweighed by the  burning blood of racism
Poets writing greater truths than lawmakers and politicians
Words filled with more love and compassion
Than the man wearing his false robes of god
Preaching condemnation while committing crimes against our children
Our ***** history at our fingertips
Sitting on the shelf
So much horror
So many more disgusting stories crammed and pressed between the pages
Not enough time in one life to read it all
My heart not big enough to forgive it all
And the only thing more haunting than the past
As I sit and look over these books
These lives
These minds
These hearts
Pages bleeding with pain and grief
As I look out the window on the second floor
Of this store

I nearly cry again

I see a world still stained
Still betrayed by hate
I see a world that hasn't
******* changed

I leave the store
My wallet empty
My heart heavy
Tears crawling out
And I drive back home
666 · Dec 2015
Let Me Hold Him
Akira Chinen Dec 2015
If I could have just one wish granted
One prayer heard and answered
It would be let me hold him one more forever
Before he grows one day older
Just let me hold him one more time before the days turn to weeks to months to years
Before he turns 8 then 9...12, 13... 16... 18... 21... 25... starting a family of his own
Let me hold him one more forever while watching movies on the couch snuggled warm comfy cozy
Let me hold him one more time after school see him smile as he runs and jumps up into my arms
Let him tell me one more **** joke give me one more obnoxious burp tell me who's knock knocking at my door
Let me hold him while I listen to him laugh and snicker and giggle
Let me hold him one more forever
Before he grows one day older
And then as he turns 8 and 9... 12... 13...
And the days turn to weeks to months to years
Let me hold him in my heart until forever turns to dust and time has found its end
And when we find forevers end and time no longer moves
Let me hold him even tighter and never let him go
661 · Sep 2015
Ask
Akira Chinen Sep 2015
Ask
If I asked
Would you answer...
If I begged
Would you accept...
If I cried
Would you belive..
If I told you
Would we...
Be lovers
In the same bed
Dreamers
That share the
Same cloud
Would my heart
Be yours
Forever
And would you
Give me your heart
To hold
For all time
Or would
These words
Written
Never be spoken
Never be answered
Never belived
And your kiss
Only a dream
Only a wish
Only a lonely fist
A missed chance
Time and again
Dreamt into something
More
Your skin
To never touch
Mine
Just empty sheets
In an empty bed
As I whisper
Your name
Myself seeps out
As lust and love
Tangle
But its not
You
On top
Of me
Just a
Mist
A ghost
A hope
Could I stop
Should I try
To end
This dream
And just
Accept
It only
Works as
A fantasy
Maybe
If I just told...
Maybe
If I just said...
Maybe
If I just ask...
Akira Chinen Mar 2018
She walked across rooftops
collecting dreams from sleeping children
and placed them safely
in the nest of the arms of the stars above

She is the music in the silence
and the words and hope
in every wish and prayer

She taught fire the art of poetry
and then set the sun ablaze
and let it drift off into the sky

She carved the moon from the moody sky
and taught it the language
of melancholy lullabies
and then pinned it to the night

She is part

ocean and mist

   sand and shore

    mountain and river

      breeze and wind

       leaf and branch

and is in everything
  that is beautiful about love

If you are lucky you might hear her footsteps
gliding gracefully over your roof
and in dreaming you will see her smile
and in seeing her smile you will know
why the stars glimmer and shine
655 · Aug 2018
something more beautiful
Akira Chinen Aug 2018
What if we are nothing more
than the delirium of a dream
some figment of undigested madness
in the bowels of a god
dying from starvation
in the belly of a worm
as it writhes from dehydration
baking helplessly in the sun

so dangerously close to oblivion
yet so obliviously unaware
sleeping through our lives
to avoid the pain of the disappointment
of not living out our dreams

and what if it is so easy
as opening our eyes
to see what it is
that we could be
if we dared ourselves
to step beyond our potential
and reach past
what we thought
was beyond our reach

What if?

What if we could become
something more beautiful than love
Akira Chinen Nov 2017
Blake has written it all and written it
in perfect clarity and beauty
and Baudelaire topped it
with decadence and forbidden pleasures
and  Kerouac took it on the road
and gave it a beat
and Bukowski redefined and simplified
and told all its ugly truths
and got it drunk on beer and women

yet still we sit here poor men and women
and boys and girls
scratching away in our journals
and typing at our refurbished vintage typewriters
and cheap plastic keyboards
attached to overpriced laptops
made of fruit and ego

trying to add to the vast pile of treasure
left behind by Coleridge and Thoreau and Whitman
and Mother Maya Angelou
trying to write ourselves in and out
of the corners of solitude and madness
following in the echos of Plath and Dickinson and Poe

we pickpocket dead myths
and dig up their bones
and dance in the fields of their deaths
and claim their prayers as our own
and play the part of god
as we invent new ways to sin
and feel shame for walking naked
in our own bodies
and daring to enjoy lust
and desire and love

it’s all worthless garbage
and it’s all priceless time well spent
shouting into the void of our meaningless existence
and all the vast emptiness of space takes no notice
no matter who loudly we bash our pans
and pound our fists
and ******* our overinflated sense of self worth

we are helplessly alone
stuffed in overcrowded tin containers
packed tightly in our human misery
willing to sleep with one another
but afraid to look each other in the eye
and see who it really is
we’re sharing our beds with
because we would rather
just imagine it really is love
and not find out if its the truth of love
we’re trying to define
within the fragility of our hearts

we wait till our beds are empty
and our hands are cold
and then we pick up our pens
and strike our keyboards
and lay down lies over the truth
we are afraid to uncover
and we treat it poorly
by doing this again and again

yet it defies us still with its volume and weight
and no matter how many times
are how many ways
we re-write the same poem
over and over and over
the heart stays the same
no matter what color we paint it
red or black or bruised sky blue
what tear lost in the ocean
or ocean trapped in a tear
it remains within the grasp
of the same endless heart beat
coming from the same eternal heart

no matter how many times
a new giant or new lord or new king
or new queen or fool are crowned
and wether they type streams of garbage
or write on leafs inlaid with gold
we will always be connected
by the necessity
of the painful beauty of poetry
649 · Jan 2016
Middle Finger Truth
Akira Chinen Jan 2016
No one likes the ******* truth
No one wants to be reminded of
The monster we've let ourselves become
The horribly murders of innocence
The terrible teeth gnawing at the flesh of our own children
The gluttonous hounds devouring nature and wildlife for parking lots and imaginary cures
The ghastly drones of war and profit
Acheving nothing more than an anemic effort at faking compassion
Tragedy after tragedy after tragedy
Cheap paint on posters
Clever words behind "hashtags"
5 seconds of our time
To ease our minds and let us ease back to our comfy little lives
Where we can ignore the ******* truth
As we sip our overpriced coffee and teas with fancy names
Writing pretty prose for pretty things
Soaking our indifference in cheap perfume
As if hidding the monster under our skin
Will erase the world of our sins
So let me write another poem
Of my favorite muse
Her undying beauty
Her vivid soul
The promise of her lips
The heaven hiding between
her hips
How my heart will always
unknowingly be hers
But she will never be the one sleeping
by my side
And I will crumble and fade and my
body will return to dust
As my heart lives on
Being madly and wildly and
Impossibly in love
Because that would be easier
Than writing about the
******* truth
I can't say I don't write, but I couldn't honestly call myself a writer.  I say that in the sense that I have no idea what I'm doing when I write.  I am grateful for all the compliments on my last entry, I almost forgot to write it.  The words were bouncing around in my head as I was driving to get something to eat and when I arrived I had forgotten it completely.  I started drawing while I was waiting for my food and continued to draw after I ate.  Then before leaving some of the words came back and I jotted them down.  They felt... ok?... I didn't perceive them as my best, but I rarely do with any of my work.  And I'm not a critic so what would I know... and like I said earlier I'm not a writer either.  Maybe I just see more beauty in the ugly truths of the world because their more often ignored.  I do belive in hopes, and dreams, and magic, and most importantly love (and I am and always will be madly and wildly and impossibly in love with my favorite muse...) but I fear what the world will become if we continue to ignore the ******* truths...
648 · Feb 2018
Dreamweavers End
Akira Chinen Feb 2018
They lay in bed breathing easy breaths of exhaustion with their fingers locking their palms in a gently kiss, his eyes starting deeply into the universe of colors in hers and softly he spoke, “I feel that I have loved you longer than I have known life, longer than I have been... I can’t remember a day or time that my heart did not know or sing your name, I can’t recall a memory that you are not a part of... as if I have loved you from within my mothers womb all the way to this very moment...it’s as if we never meet... as if somehow we just always were.  Tell me, is it true... have you always been here, here in my heart... from it’s very first beat?”, he asked as he moved their hands over the middle of his chest where his heart sang below.  “Or are you just a dream... or am I?  Is any of this real?”
“I am not just a dream... I am Dream, I am all dreams... I am the dream of all the stars wishing to be made of flesh and I am the dream of every child wishing they could fly.  I am the dream of every god wishing they were never given names.  I am the dream of the salt and the blood swimming in the sea and I am the dream of every grain of sand and every leaf floating on the wind... and it is all real, as real as you and I, every dream every whispered, every dream sown into every wish... and you... you are more than just a dream... you are my first love and my last love, always, you are the time in every moment of every breath of everything I do... I can not exist or live without you and you do not live without my dream of loving you... and Life is our child, all life, and we give life dreams and love and time and let it run wild and free.  We are tied to each other in mystery and magic and knowing of things that can’t be known or spoken... We exist for an eternity together and then in a moment we are gone and we sleep and we rest and all goes quite and not a thing is dreamt and time does not move or exist while we sleep...”
“And what of our love while we sleep?”
“It watches over us and keeps us safe.”
“Always?”
“Always.”
“Do we come back... do we wake up again... will we remember?”
“Yes and no and yes... you will be Time and I will be Dream again... in the time ahead, and we will live and love and dream and give life to dreams and dreams to life and time and love to both... it will all be different and it will all feel the same and this will and will not be true but it will never be a lie... a new story for a new Dream and a new Time, as there is always a time before now and a time ahead of now... but for now we will rest and sleep and love will keep us safe.”
He went to speak again and she gently pushed a finger to his lips and without making a sound Dream said, “shhhhhh... sleep, sleep Time, sleep...”
And Dream and Time slept and the time of now was gone and love sighed and sat and watched and yawned knowing what could not be known or spoken and smiled to know that the circle would come round again and Life would be born from Dream and Time and love would be there waiting to be given and shared and lost and found and broken and healed and it would laugh when it could and it would cry when it needed and no matter what, it would always be there as a part of Life and Time and Dream.
646 · Nov 2016
dead dreams and whiskey
Akira Chinen Nov 2016
Its easier to fall for a voice and a picture
than a women sitting at the end of a bar
stirring lonely ice  
in a glass full of whiskey and dead dreams
The imagined love hurts less to lose
where kisses shared were just painted illusions
and wet colors left under the skin of a dream
Where the reality of the illusion bends
and sways to the whims of a foolish heart broken
and stitched and broken and stitched over time and clichés
And love is kinder in fantasy
than in shared beds with lonely souls
just putting their bodies through the motion
of the memory of past ghosts
of living passions from nights under a moon long gone
And the bar has filled and ice has melted
and women stir dead dreams
and wear whisky flavored lips
and maybe if I didn't suffer from a debilitating shyness
I would mention the strange weather
or say anything at all
But the solitary ride home is more tempting
and I have a picture and a voice
waiting on a nightstand next to an empty bed
with a comfortable dream
to stitch back the pieces of the dead heart
that somehow still beats inside my chest
646 · Nov 2017
blanket made of stars
Akira Chinen Nov 2017
Let's lay down on a blanket
made of stars and the night
and will watch life pass
like clouds in a dream
made of me loving you
and you loving me
and we will collide and connect
and burst through
our sins and the sun
we will lay heaven to waste
and burn hell and its gates
to rubble and cinder and ash
and will make fools out
of desire and lust
and wear them like a second skin
and you'll be my moon
and my prayer
and my sleepy time song
and I'll be your pulse
and your rhythm
and your bedtime story lullaby
and we'll sleep
and we'll dream
and we'll love
on a blanket made of stars
and the night
645 · Jun 2016
The chambers of my heart
Akira Chinen Jun 2016
The chambers of my heart
Turned to Eden and Shangri-la
The utopia of Arcadia
As these echos become
The mantra and the hymn
Of the throbbing pulse
Of my blood
And every cell racing through me
Hums along
*I Love You
645 · Nov 2016
sleepless heart
Akira Chinen Nov 2016
Is it the sleepless heart or the restless mind or the beauty of the dream you paint upon my bedroom ceiling that has me lost in this empty bed filled with pools of sweat of untamed and untouched desire
Let me kiss the innocence off your cheeks and wander in the lust of your eyes
You are all my prayers of heaven and consume my every thought of sin
I want to be bound between the leather covers of your book
and be tied to its spine with thread
I want to swim in your words and soak into your every passion and leave my fingerprints and stains on every page
Let me read the secret verse
and let me go falling into love
until my heart is no longer mine
638 · Sep 2015
Poor Father
Akira Chinen Sep 2015
I'm a poor father, that is to say my yearly income is nothing to brag about.  According to our government as of last year, I am now above the poverty line, so I realize there are many out there struggling more than I am.... too many, theres no reason for poverty to be so common in todays world.  I have my 9 to 5 life (though its not actually those specific hours),  I have a car to get me from here to there and back again and thats all it is, I live in a house that isn't impressive to look at, it's liveable and functional, and most importantly I have a little boy to take care of.  He's my only child, but he has a half sister and a half brother, so he's not an only child.  He's  almost 8 yrs old, unfortunately and fortunately since his mother and I went our separate ways I've gotten to spend half his life with him .  A week with me, a week with his mom, thats been his life since he was 6 months old.  Over the years I've grown  closer and developed a much stronger bound with him  than his mother has.  I taught him to read, add, subtract, multiply, divide, and write.  Reading time has been a major part of our life,  we've read hundreds and hundreds of books (and theres probably a few of those books we've read a hundred times each).  I've encourgaed him to exercise his brain daily, both for mental dexterity and creative agility.  I won't claim I taught him to draw or anything like that, like all kids he just picked up crayons and makers and pencils and brushes and went at it.  As he got older I gave him suggestions and "helped" if he asked but mostly I just watched and encouraged.  Nothing is more important to me than his health and happiness.  I took part in bringing him into this world because I wanted to be a father, I wanted to raise a child,  I wanted the challenges and responsibilities, I wanted the joys and the heartaches, the sleepless nights and the sleeping in, late night binges and earlier morning breakfasts....all the things I thought would be wonderful and amazing.  As great as I thought it would be, and I thought it would be beyond my wildest dreams,  its been so much more than I could have imagined.  I know as a parent I'm going to naturally want to brag and say what an amazing kid he is.  So I am. He is an amazingly beautiful little guy,  his heart is already too big for this world.  He's as kind and compassionate and empathetic, it's easy to forget his just a kid sometimes.  He's not perfect, he's silly and goofy and acts just like any other boy his age.  He makes mistakes, he runs in the hall and plays in the bathroom and talks during quite time and gets too excited and doesnt always listen the 1st or 2nd  or 3rd time and stands in the corner every now and then.  But he's a good kid with a good  heart and at this point in his life a better person than most of us (a more common trait in children than I think most "adults" would care to admit).  There's been no greater privilege in my life than being his dad.  We love each other, I'm not going to try to claim more than any other parent and child love each other but at least as much as any other can.  For the last 2 or 3 years (I can't recall the exact first time) he's been wishing and asking to just live with "dad".   It started off with cute expressions like "Dad, I wish I could be with you a million days and only have to see mom one day.", to crying "I don't want to go back to mom's, I want to stay with you.", to asking "Why can't I just live with you all the time?".  And every time, I sat down with him and explained that wouldn't be fair to mom and mom loves you just as much as I do and me and mom agreed to share you equally and deciding on who he wants to live with is a "Big Boy" decision  and he would have to have a "Big Boy" talk with mom one day, but he had to know that telling mom he wanted to live with dad would hurt moms felling so maybe we should wait until he was older.  However, mom wants to move somewhere were it wouldn't be possible to keep up the other every week and now we're in court...
It wasn't an easy decision to make, lawyers are expensive, outcomes are unknown until its all over.... I didn't have to ask where he would choose if it was his choice, but I did.  I've witnessed the heartache in his eyes week after week our last few days together for years now.  I know if I just let him go he would be devasted and heartbroken.  Now here we are waiting... my lawyer is hoping by christmas we'll be done.  Every now and then he asks, "What if mom wins?", and I have to choke down the tears and stop myself from crying and sit him down and put on a brave face and tell him "At least we tried, we just have to do our best, and no matter what happens always remember  we love each other and nothing will ever change that."  I wish I had a better answer... and every now and then I wish it was the other way around, that he would be happier at moms or at least just as happy.  It would be easy to let him go if it meant he would be happy.  There's nothing more beautiful than your childs smile, nothing more pleasing to your ears than their laughter, no greater privilege than keeping their minds, their hearts, and their spirits healthy. To teach them to be kind and generous, to show them no matter how little you have you always have enough to share,  to protect their innocence, to give them magic to belive in... to let them be children in the short time they have to be so.  As they grow through their childhood, encourage the things they love, push their minds and hearts towards the things that make them smile, give them the tools to develop discipline and a good work ethic.  There's no stopping time, and time will always steal some of everyones innocence, but we can teach our children to hold onto at the very least the ghost of their innocence.  Show them its not the size of their house, or the price tag of their car, or how many figures and zeros on their paychecks that makes them rich or successful, but instead it's the amount of love in their hearts they have to give to the world that will either make them rich or poor.  On paper, on the surface of my appearance, I'm just a poor father, one of too many on the world,  I drive a car that goes but has no vroom, I live in a house that won't ever end up on the pages of a magazine...  But that little guy of mine, what he's given my heart, what his smile does for our home.... There's  no on richer, no one living in bigger or more beautiful castle.
638 · Sep 2016
comfort of dreams
Akira Chinen Sep 2016
Lets count the stars tonight
Under the comfort of dreams
Just you and me
Lets count the stars each night
Until the end of my life
For the rest of your life
Count them down to one
When the star that warms the day
Comes crawling over the distant
And cast shade over us
Then let us rest under this tree
Planted by you
Planted by me
Under the comfort of dreams
Where we will lay until the sun sleeps
Then lets count the stars again
And again and
again
Till we have counted every one
And recorded every breath
And felt every beat
And died over and over
In each others arms
While counting the stars
Under the comfort of dreams
638 · Jan 2017
The childish heart
Akira Chinen Jan 2017
The childish heart of mischief and innocence beating with wonder and awe and kindness and magic and soft beauty
Keep it well and keep it always
Don't foolishly let it float away with lost ballons or abandon it like an unwanted kite tangled in the dying branches of an old oak tree
It is the best heart you will ever have and the best heart you will ever be loved by
It is no easy task to keep as the days go by and the years add up
Don't fall victim to the lures of what comes next or to those who insist you must let it go and you must grow up and old
This is not true
Not at all
In no way
And no how
You will age and that is certain
If lucky your body will collect many many years
There is no fighting time or fate on that
But the soul and spirit of your heart is a timeless entity
A will and mind of its own
Half crazy and fully mad
The wild card in a deck full of jokers
The maker of things impossible possible
The final guardian of magic
The last knight of wonder
The only protector of kindness
But it can stray
It can grow old
It can even turn cold
and bitter
and cruel
It is much harder work to keep the childish heart than to give into doubt and disbelief and follow the flow of the normal world around you
And how do we keep this heart
This childish beautiful heart
How do we keep it safe
How do we hold on
We feed it the magic of childhood dreams
And the sweet kindness of wonder
We encourage the impossible
We push it through failure and skinned knees
We let it soar with kites in open skies and dance among cloud high ballons
And most importantly we believe in its love
For there is nothing more important to the childish heart
than believing in its love
Feeling its love
Giving its love
and accepting its love
The childish heart
Is ours to always keep
and it is simple as believing
all though that is very difficult to do
but there is no better life to live
Than the life lived
Protecting and keeping
The childish heart
637 · Aug 2019
intelligence?
Akira Chinen Aug 2019
what has our intelligence done for us
other than soften our instinct
slow down our reflex
made us into habitual
connoisseurs of convenience
curators of insta-gratification  
creatures of know it all
without the need
to understand anything
the universe just
a night sky out of reach
just a spattering of stars dot the sky
all the cosmos overhead
and we are too consumed
by the blue screens that feed
the narcissism of our egos
to look up in awe and wonder
to question the arrogance
of our intelligence
to see how little we know
about the things we know
as we have killed the view of heaven
with the artificial light of our pollution
facts blurred with faith
and we ignore all the fiction
that causes so much friction
that we allow our children...
that we force our children...
to ****** other children
boys feeling like men
poisoned by patriotism and pride
in such a rush to die
for the words of freedom
never stopping to question
the definition of the repetition
and redundancy of war
never stopping to question
the repetition
and redundancy of war
never stopping to question
the redundancy
never stopping
the redundancy
the redundancy of war
as we will not question the intelligence
that infects us with
the sovereignty to be exalted
by our own cruelty
how else could we excuse
our history that keeps repeating
keeps its transcripts written
in the death and blood of the innocent
mislead by prejudice and hate
taught by fear and ignorance
all brought to us
by what we call intelligence

why were we given these hearts
this muscle beating below our ribs
what good is it
if only driven
by the intellect of our minds
our self indulgent intelligence
why have hearts at all
if we never stop to listen
listen to the message
of its beating
its pounding on our ribs
if we never stop to accept the wisdom
it sings in ever silent word
words that need no definition
need no ink or blood
written down in a declaration
of its reason to be living
it needs not our intelligence to survive
our intellect to live
it has its own wisdom
the wisdom of love
and in our grand intelligence
we are too blind to see
too deaf to hear
too unwilling to feel the truth
of how useless any intelligence is
without the wisdom of love
636 · Jul 2016
Tell me Maya Lou
Akira Chinen Jul 2016
Tell me Maya Lou
  How to be brave like you
Tell me Maya Lou
  Have you seen the news
Because I tell you Maya Lou
   It frightens me, this word
                                  this life
That shadow on the wall
  Just shot a man in the back
With hands up down the hall
It frightens me, the noise the hanmer made
  the life the bullet took away
The big man barks and bares his bullet
  teeth
The man laying on the ground
Watching his skin turn red
  Now a ghost on a big cloud
It frightens me, to see a life slip away
  without warrant or reason
Nothing has changed for Mother Goose
Throw another noose around the lions
  driving cars
     It looks too new
       It must not belong to you
It frightens me, wasn't he suppose to
   protect what he just destroyed
     turning a home into a house
       of joyless stone and wood
What magic or what charm
  can keep their lives safe
   from harm
There's a broken heart
   on my sleeve
For every life lost
For every tear shed
It's an ocean of grief
   and I can no longer
                            breath
Tell me Maya Lou
    I can hear you crying
                                   too
Tell me Maya Lou
   What would you say
      What would King dream
To keep the peace
  To calm the storm
To stop the bullets flying
  back and forth
   forth and back
Tell me Maya Lou
  where did we go wrong
    why is the world tearing
       itself open at the seams
It frightens me, the growing
  flames of hate burning both
    life and love
Tell me Maya Lou
  How to be brave like you
I tell you Maya Lou
Life frightens me...
  to tears
   to tears
Life frightens me...
     to tears
"One day this book will be a relic chronicling a period of insanity and inhumanity, I hope..."
Michael Warr
From the book
"Of Poetry and Protest, from Emmet Till to Trayvon Martin"
635 · Aug 2016
Tomorrow, yesterday, today
Akira Chinen Aug 2016
Summer is stretching towards lost days and long nights
Autumn is seeping through the window sill and waiting in the wind
Winter is just a yawn away and will pave the path with snow as we take the slow stroll toward spring
Time will crawl and fly through moments of wonder and moments of anguish
Horror and magic waiting to be discovered and then folded and creased
and stuffed to memories of past days
Laughter to spread and tears to shed
and pain to bare and joy to share
Tomorrows secrets will soon enough be yesterdays ghost
Today we will always have to live and breath and when lucky enough
to love
634 · Nov 2015
The Wide Smile
Akira Chinen Nov 2015
She had the wide smile of a Cheshire Cat
And long thin silky eyes that seemed
to stop time
Her voice was sensual
A sultry whisper from a pitch dark dream
He wanted to know her name
and the colors of her soul
He wanted to let down her hair
and find what dreams hid within
He wanted to feel the electricity
of the touch of her delicate hands
He wanted to taste the magic of her skin
and dance to the rhythm of her breath
He wanted to close his eyes
and fall into the black void of madness
And be awoken in a dream where
time had stopped
And the only light came from
her smile
And the only sound to be heard
was the whisper of her voice
630 · Nov 2016
done nothing less evil
Akira Chinen Nov 2016
Purple mountains watch them bleed under the disguise of democracy
Twin sunsets of false hope
This party that party
Celebrate with the champagne of lead water and pipelines and lies
Strap the blinders on tighter
Don't let the common man see the filth and pollution you spread behind the curtains of what you tell them is the Wizard of Oz
Where the broken dreams of the poor continuously feed the bottomless hunger of the gluttonous teeth of the rich
Vote for this ******* or that *****
It doesn't really matter just keep the illusion of freedom and choice alive
America was made by the blood and bones of cruelty
Built by dark hands bound in chains and ebony backs lashed by whips
We've done nothing less evil since the genocide and eviction of the people that lived here before we made this land great
And evil see evil do is what we do best so we just keep singing along about star spangled banners and purple mountains majesty
While ignoring the fact were holding the shovel thats digging our graves
627 · Mar 2018
The Three Kind Mice
Akira Chinen Mar 2018
The three kind mice
are the oldest of the old
the wisest of the wise
the kindest of the kind

The first of all life
the first of all mice
the first of Hempstock blood

They see without seeing
they know without knowing
they give without expecting

They gave the tick and the tock
to the hands of the clock
and the sand to the wind
and the glass to the hour
and time its name and its nature

They gave the moon
the blanket of night
and the lullaby of stars
and the ocean the warm breath
and goodnight kiss of the sun
and dream its name and its season

They gave the tree
the root and the trunk
and the trunk the branch
and the  branch the leaf
and life its name and its being

They gave the heart
a rhythm and a beat
and a home beneath
flesh skin and bone
inside of all that would be
and love its name and its reason
627 · Dec 2016
my beautiful little boy
Akira Chinen Dec 2016
Fast asleep I watch him breathe with innocence still soft and pink upon his cheeks
and I wonder what does he dream and where does he go
as he lay in slumber still
does he fly above the clouds as dragon with tooth and claw and fire
or does he play with toys that have come alive with joyful mischief
or does he quest on adventures bold and become the hero who refuses gold
what does he dream
my beautiful little boy
Nine years past and he has grown
in body, mind, and spirit 
kindness and love live inside his heart
and his smile and laughter fills my days and nights with warmth and what a privilege it has been to be the father of such a beautiful little boy
And may the days and years ahead
see him grow wiser and kinder
and may time only age
the skin over his cheeks
and his heart stay forever young
and let him become handsome and daring
and dashing and witty and charming
and let him always remember
no matter how much or how little
he may have he always has enough
for sharing
and no matter how old he turns he will always be my beautiful little boy
627 · Oct 2018
like nothing
Akira Chinen Oct 2018
maybe it’s nothing
that feeling inside
not cold
not numb
beyond sorrow
beyond sorry
beyond what once
  may have been love

I could tell you
that you were beautiful
that you are beautiful still
and say these things
while only speaking
the lost languages of truth

you are every definition
  of everything
     known about love

the sonnet of the sun
the lullaby of the moon
the secret of the stars aligned
the marriage of heaven and hell

the reason tears know joy
the pleasure found in pain
the addiction of love to lust
the devotion of lust to love

the ghosts of the bottom
  of the sea
the mad gods at the end
  of the world
the child alone at the beginning
  of everything
the last death
  of all things

or maybe its nothing
that feeling inside
the dream of something
that once was

maybe you are tortured
   and trapped
a ghost among the living
  the last living thing
    among the dead

maybe you are too beautiful
  too much like Van Gogh
a garden of bloomed irises
  staring up
at a whirling sky of stars

a quite pile of letters
full of passion
  and rage
   and love
     and beauty

a desperate search
for the heaven
you know
is beating wildly
somewhere in your heart

or maybe its nothing
that feeling inside

that moment
when we found something
more beautiful than love

and then like nothing

it was gone
624 · Mar 2017
tea and conversation
Akira Chinen Mar 2017
Poetry is where the soul and the heart meet for tea and conversation  and love and lust argue of who is better in bed and end up ******* on top and underneath the table
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