"akiko" poems - Hello Poetry

On late nights like these, days when I don’t have dates, I rest on my balcony and smoke my life away, reliving the memories of my childhood. Feeling myself drift away into the cloud from my cigarette. I watched the thin wisp of smoke trailing away, up into the polluted 21st century air before reaching the tiny patch of the clear night sky amongst all the buildings and dissolving. Molding myself into the body of a child, and trying to retrieve, to reach out and grasp, my pure innocence from seventeen years ago. I close my eyes and imagine that all my childhood memories will wash up right here in my mind as I stood on my balcony. I used to have a life. I had parents, I had a name, I had friends; I was a someone. But as you grow older in Tokyo, you become a noone. My father was a no one, as well as my mom. My father had always been a businessman, and every morning he would change into his business suit. He was impossible to distinguish amongst thousands of other buisnessmen that made up the sea of Tokyo. He wore the same suit, like thousands, day after day, life becoming more dull as each day passed. Hour after hour, he sat in front of the soft glow of the computer screen, mersemized; brainwashed. In the world where everything were made of pixels, nothing was real anymore. It would become dark, and he would go to a bar alone, drinking his life away. He sometimes arrived home from a taxi, being sent by someone for being so drunk. One day, he jumped in front of a train and killed himself- didn't even leave a note. I don't even remember what day it was when he commited suicide. In a place where you have no position, you stop keeping track of days. And I remember my mother crying and saying, "Kaori, don't ever do what your father did." My mother was in the same position as my father, not much better than him. She was an office lady, leading the same life as my father had. She left 1000 yen on the table for me to buy dinner at the convenience store. She came home late. School was not much different, and I asked myself, "Why am I getting an education only to end up like my mother and father, the people of Tokyo?" I could see myself in the future, a figure exactly as my mother. I stopped going to school and decided, why not get an early start? I got into hostessing, where I received a new name: Akiko. I don't have a name anymore. I am not recognized by anybody. I do not know who I am, nor do others know that I am.

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Jan 21, 2014

Jan 21, 2014 at 9:33 PM UTC

n0cturnal

Hostess in Tokyo

On late nights like these, days when I don’t have dates, I rest on my balcony and smoke my life away, reliving the memories of my childhood. Feeling myself drift away into the cloud from my cigarette. I watched the thin wisp of smoke trailing away, up into the polluted 21st century air before reaching the tiny patch of the clear night sky amongst all the buildings and dissolving. Molding myself into the body of a child, and trying to retrieve, to reach out and grasp, my pure innocence from seventeen years ago. I close my eyes and imagine that all my childhood memories will wash up right here in my mind as I stood on my balcony. I used to have a life. I had parents, I had a name, I had friends; I was a someone. But as you grow older in Tokyo, you become a noone. My father was a no one, as well as my mom. My father had always been a businessman, and every morning he would change into his business suit. He was impossible to distinguish amongst thousands of other buisnessmen that made up the sea of Tokyo. He wore the same suit, like thousands, day after day, life becoming more dull as each day passed. Hour after hour, he sat in front of the soft glow of the computer screen, mersemized; brainwashed. In the world where everything were made of pixels, nothing was real anymore. It would become dark, and he would go to a bar alone, drinking his life away. He sometimes arrived home from a taxi, being sent by someone for being so drunk. One day, he jumped in front of a train and killed himself- didn't even leave a note. I don't even remember what day it was when he commited suicide. In a place where you have no position, you stop keeping track of days. And I remember my mother crying and saying, "Kaori, don't ever do what your father did." My mother was in the same position as my father, not much better than him. She was an office lady, leading the same life as my father had. She left 1000 yen on the table for me to buy dinner at the convenience store. She came home late. School was not much different, and I asked myself, "Why am I getting an education only to end up like my mother and father, the people of Tokyo?" I could see myself in the future, a figure exactly as my mother. I stopped going to school and decided, why not get an early start? I got into hostessing, where I received a new name: Akiko. I don't have a name anymore. I am not recognized by anybody. I do not know who I am, nor do others know that I am.

12

Beautiful beaches, beautiful nature, beautiful nature and beautiful scenery. Hippy Swivel Reyes Jikko Sakura Station, Shin Zipcard Church, Chad Puke Park, Chad Puke Park, European Mountain, Stock Park, Crown Door Center, Public Umbrella Center, William Uro Corak Award, South Tempo Statistical Center, Computer Packages Overview: These Unlimited Dollars, Towels and Toys is a French, French philosophy. What looks like American gardens? Akiko Tata, Akiko Winter, Brown Bridge, Ami Hiazipi Manichi, Robert Kerry, Reza Dada and Ramas Sharika, South Black Sea, technology transfer, Benin, China, China Little Commission, last year's high quality wild forests. The French media for media's entertainment, many natural stories, the public museum, the Swadeshi folk club, William Robbins, the Sunday Drama Drama, the Mexican Blue, and the rich family - legendary legends. OG is a dangerous place in Gnan Park. Many mothers in the United States are in the hospital Akum Tomo Acicci Alcoholic beverages Jack Jack CO Kharke, Hearing Brothers Bros, huge revolutionary valve; Rover wandering huge unwanted chemistry, happy coffee, sugar, cheesy drugs, European Union, Red Carl Electricity, Peace Center South Carolina, Notebook William Roberts, Gama and Akuraai, Rip Pellas Jazz, Irish Michelle film, Anita, Philosophy and Body Tividhi Ura

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Feb 2, 2019

Feb 2, 2019 at 12:27 AM UTC

johnny-noiπ

Sunday Drama

Beautiful beaches, beautiful nature, beautiful nature and beautiful scenery. Hippy Swivel Reyes Jikko Sakura Station, Shin Zipcard Church, Chad Puke Park, Chad Puke Park, European Mountain, Stock Park, Crown Door Center, Public Umbrella Center, William Uro Corak Award, South Tempo Statistical Center, Computer Packages Overview: These Unlimited Dollars, Towels and Toys is a French, French philosophy. What looks like American gardens? Akiko Tata, Akiko Winter, Brown Bridge, Ami Hiazipi Manichi, Robert Kerry, Reza Dada and Ramas Sharika, South Black Sea, technology transfer, Benin, China, China Little Commission, last year's high quality wild forests. The French media for media's entertainment, many natural stories, the public museum, the Swadeshi folk club, William Robbins, the Sunday Drama Drama, the Mexican Blue, and the rich family - legendary legends. OG is a dangerous place in Gnan Park. Many mothers in the United States are in the hospital Akum Tomo Acicci Alcoholic beverages Jack Jack CO Kharke, Hearing Brothers Bros, huge revolutionary valve; Rover wandering huge unwanted chemistry, happy coffee, sugar, cheesy drugs, European Union, Red Carl Electricity, Peace Center South Carolina, Notebook William Roberts, Gama and Akuraai, Rip Pellas Jazz, Irish Michelle film, Anita, Philosophy and Body Tividhi Ura

41

The Book had bones. Belied by Time’s vendetta with Vellum. I had finished. And all the revels in It - Seeped from an Unwell Spring where Winter’s Wound would always keep the Venom A Keepsake in remembrance of an Inner Child as Precocious as a swarm of Locusts… wherever tomes were broken at the spine… He focused. Felt the Leather like a Priest - Recently released from draconian vows His chastity would have long despised… If his Innocence had only known the Eve of his Destruction as only an Inner Man recalls. But Hallowed were the halls. Despite the Gravity so rare a thing as wisdom brings - He Levitates as every chapter churned the milk that fattened a golden calf Into butter enough for Loaves of Zero. Plus one. and a crust of Yes. At the Rubicon, a step was taken into a Wilderness of No Return Where the Natives had no word for Exile. And a Child was A Curious Thing To the Death. II The Book had bones. And I know because I found them in the margins While turning the last page in a reverential stupor… More words! And I found them - ! Fluent in AfterThought As I read them like stroking a panther. And I Quote…… " you think and thus you speak whatever Thinking thinks To Think a lot. And Speaking - speaks what Thinking spoke of speaking after Thinking Thoughts. So - Thoughts are Thunk. And Thinks are Thinked and all the Speaks have Spoke. " and now begins The Cramp of Legend for my anonymous hand ! Oh joy ! my pharmacist will be Kip with The Beard. Because Akiko in a Lab Coat is more than I deserve or something... Ever felt like that? Oh God! I hope she didn't Quit !

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Jul 14, 2018

Jul 14, 2018 at 7:06 PM UTC

third-eye-candy

YOU THINK, AND THUS YOU SPEAK

The Book had bones. Belied by Time’s vendetta with Vellum. I had finished. And all the revels in It - Seeped from an Unwell Spring where Winter’s Wound would always keep the Venom A Keepsake in remembrance of an Inner Child as Precocious as a swarm of Locusts… wherever tomes were broken at the spine… He focused. Felt the Leather like a Priest - Recently released from draconian vows His chastity would have long despised… If his Innocence had only known the Eve of his Destruction as only an Inner Man recalls. But Hallowed were the halls. Despite the Gravity so rare a thing as wisdom brings - He Levitates as every chapter churned the milk that fattened a golden calf Into butter enough for Loaves of Zero. Plus one. and a crust of Yes. At the Rubicon, a step was taken into a Wilderness of No Return Where the Natives had no word for Exile. And a Child was A Curious Thing To the Death. II The Book had bones. And I know because I found them in the margins While turning the last page in a reverential stupor… More words! And I found them - ! Fluent in AfterThought As I read them like stroking a panther. And I Quote…… " you think and thus you speak whatever Thinking thinks To Think a lot. And Speaking - speaks what Thinking spoke of speaking after Thinking Thoughts. So - Thoughts are Thunk. And Thinks are Thinked and all the Speaks have Spoke. " and now begins The Cramp of Legend for my anonymous hand ! Oh joy ! my pharmacist will be Kip with The Beard. Because Akiko in a Lab Coat is more than I deserve or something... Ever felt like that? Oh God! I hope she didn't Quit !

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