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Bianca E Rangel  Feb 2014
Yukata
Bianca E Rangel Feb 2014
I'm wearing my  yukata under the zealous stars
Thinking about you
With an aching heart

For this forever luminescent moon
I shall sing
And dance

For all that life stands for
Under these stars
That scream my name

I'm wearing my yukata under the zealous stars
Ronald J Chapman Dec 2014
A pink kimono
yukata
Adorned with velvet flowers

Standing there in the Springtime mist of Japan,
Guarded by Sakura trees.
Skies are blue,
Singing a beautiful song,

Pink lips like adorable flowers on a spring day,
A most beautiful, kind and loving princess to ever
walk Japan.

Your beautiful face,
Your kindest soul,
Your adorable lips,
You smiled at me.

You have the prettiest voice,
that calms my soul.

You're the most beautiful and loving princess,
ever to walk Japan...

© 2014 Ronald J Chapman All Rights Reserved.
Princess Sakura Poem Reading 1
http://youtu.be/zhVuMhmZo4E
Ronald J Chapman Dec 2014
She's a powerful and strong princess,
With magical super powers.

She thinks of time's past,
She thinks of times yet to come.

She loves to travel through Europe,
But her dreams are of Japan,
And singing under Sakura trees in the springtime of Japan.

I notice the way she thinks about Japan always with a smile,

She likes to use words like 'Sakura flowers' and 'Yukata Kimono from Japan.'

She likes to hang out with Monica, Dad and Grandma,
But when left alone,
Her mind turns straight to Sakura flowers in
The springtime of Japan.

She hates mosquitos and cold,
But she just thinks back to springtime in Japan,
And she's happy once again...


© 2014 Ronald J Chapman All Rights Reserved.
Written for the beautiful Romanian singer Evelyne Cojocar. Her dream is to sing and tour Japan in the spring.

Music by KARUNESH - Japanese Spring
http://youtu.be/K18A-CTPc7I
Walking down the wet pavement was a tall, young man in a black, silk yukata robe with matching leather shoes, spandex half-mask and large, opaque umbrella with a round, wooden handle.

One could say that he was posing as a sharp-dressed samurai without a sword; that he was eager to recreate the experience of a samurai strolling through his ancient hometown. But there were no cherry blossoms falling on his umbrella, only heavy raindrops.

In fact, raindrops have been falling on his umbrella ever since he purchased it from one of his favorite clothes department stores. Back then, he used to carry it with him whenever he wore his favorite grey, cotton trench coat and navy-blue jeans in the rain.

One may mistake him for a chameleon changing his colors once a day or a piano ballad shifting tempo and style with each verse; maybe even a cottage with lights flashing at different speeds like sweet turning sour in the blink of an eye.

Regardless of it all, he would always carry his trustworthy, respectable umbrella and count on it to keep him dry even in the heaviest of downpours.
I wrote this short semi-autobiographical story during one of my Tees Achieve Creative Writing sessions in which I was tasked with writing an article about my favorite clothes as described here.

---

© Jordan Dean "Mystery" Ezekude
Archaesus  Dec 2021
Memories
Archaesus Dec 2021
I remember the touch of your hand
Still like a soft mist touching my skin
As we held each other on that hill
In the morning, in the fog
Warm water around each other
And the bubbling of the igneous spring
Steam surrounding your eyes like some veil
Beauty eternal, graceful, and serene.

I remember too your hair
Blowing in the wind freely
The salt breeze filling our breath
The horizon burnt in orange
Cool breeze dancing off the waves
Gulls gleefully cry above
The bobbing of the ferry
Steady, your head on my shoulder.

I remember more when I was sick
And chills racked me with exhaustion
You stayed that night, holding me close
The hum of traffic around our room
Your heat was warmer than the tea you made
And your breath a lullaby
Lights of cars flashing in the room
Stars in your russet eyes.

I remember Christmas morning,
Our coffee steaming in the veranda
The yuletide silence as we sat together
The bay and piers alight in flaming red
Your yukata flowed gracefully
And the sun rested on your cheeks
Lit as well as the hills around the sea
Your smile, a pearl among them.

I remember the last time
Neither of us slept
Two losses in one night
One a friend
One you, for longer than I thought
The beginning of three years
But I still remember you
You cried, I held you
I remember and always will.
it's been a while
Lighting the candle she then raises the veil and reveals
to her inner self, the most candid reflection of she ;

Her innate behavior
turns her into a experienced Mantra Queen !
Wrapping her body with calm from within  
she learns the exquisite science of a soft caress.
With subtle gentle intent she lands on a hillock
of freshened breath.
Inhaling exhaling with each acquired breath
the fibrous moments of her sedentary life turn into  
a journey of healing and blessed quietude.
Each tellurian thought disperses into beauty rest,  
Namu Myoho Renge Kyo   "Glory to the Dharma of the Lotus Sutra"
One breath turns into another as she enters
Wakayama, "the treasure trove of untouched nature"
She closes her eyes and enters the Japanese garden of her dreams
the one that persists on appearing behind closed eyelids
long after the trespass of yesterday's travail.
Blowing out the candle, she sits in the dark
listening to a long mahogany silence.
There is a light at the window and it beckons her
so she follows the trail to the garden like a blind woman
being solely led by the scent of Sakura, on a warm gauzy night.
Her Yukata kimono ***** in the wind as she enters this seasonal March
Lost in a paradise of cherry blossoms,
in a Seijaku moment that begs to be treasured.
Here beyond reality,
she experiences devotedly through her Yata mirror,  
all that is to be assimilated
with reverential catalyst mystique.

The End.

— The End —