"akira" poems
"In a mad world, only the mad are sane"
Clearly stated by K. Akira.
Scary!
What is freedom?
How close is it to insanity?
Scary!
Is that a freedom when one has to lose peace of mind? Is that a freedom where finally one has to ask ownself, who am I? And may regret what I have become. Is that a freedom where you search for the thousand Suns when you know one is enough? Is that a freedom where you have to sell the soul to exist a new time? Freedom is questionable.
Never ask that freedom when you are not ready for. Never ask that freedom where you don't belong. Never ask that freedom where finally one has to shed tears. Never ask that freedom where foundation of life ends. Isn't it insanity, freedom beyond control? And you may have observed where weeds florish, lotus thrives.
Balanced freedom is conscious state of being where no outer stimuli distracts, and one could flourish. Freedom in any form is always neutal, but the person who execute it, could be wrong. And forgive me if it is illogical, Earth revolving around it's axis is universal example of how much freedom one needs.
What is freedom?
How close is it to insanity?
As the saying goes, your freedom to swing your fist ends just where my nose begins.
Yes, should I repeat that?
Reasonably never ask the insane, what freedom is. At that instant they will justify everything, where they are always right.
It will be scarier that time.
Thus freedom itself is never the issue, for what cause it is exercised, is.
Nothing more.
Apr 10, 2020
Apr 10, 2020 at 11:13 AM UTC
Gene Wilder's ***** Wonka* once asked me
to step into a world
of pure imagination
and I danced to his voice
of sugary imperfections.
The swelling strings drizzled
on top falsetto inflections
captured me childishly
with candy-coated attentions
But even the finest chocolate melts,
and I learned to let purity be
pushed by treacly lyrics
or stern midgets secure
in their fudge-topped zealotry.
It sifts too pretty for me,
powdering my grown-up
infatuations with petty
wants, getting a little messy
What I crave instead's stained-glass contraptions
to propel me past the stretches
of biblical proportion
where light and dark don't mix.
I'm no Idiot, good-hearted
in the veins of Fyodor
or Akira, and I can't see
beyond the pure tedium
of a blurredly driven snow
I like my mental drifts grime-choked and splotched
with some savory do
dropped in to dissolve flossy
confections to a salted soup
of imagined impurity.
May 20, 2010
May 20, 2010 at 6:08 PM UTC
In the beginning
there is a class
of creatures we call Gods
that much later
we realize are just mono-
instances of god.
From the tower
I babble tongues,
coded messages and ciphers
that you implement
in your daily rituals
and obsessive behaviors.
In R, it's something like,
christ <- god(moral compass)
In Ruby it could be
buddha = God.new
And perhaps a nihilist or we
would find happiness in
10000.times do
pushRock = buhdda.take(me)
end
It's all pidgin for me,
unstructured glimpses at a world
that's moving and changing
faster than my non-existent
grandson can comprehend.
It's all a network
of +1 and like'd
firing mix media,
reinforcing a nascent
thought stream,
back-propagating our legends
and fairy tales, Grimm
reminders of epic Odyssey |
5 Armies in film |
Warring States |
loping dog with a severed hand
in Akira black & white mouth
repossessing Spaghetti Westerns
back into our feudal *****
Fire, firing
into the Monsoon rain.
Always in the Hemingway
rain of symbols and Matrix
green code.
And in my cupped hand,
I catch glimmering fireflies,
instances of Gaiman's
American gods, Tricksters,
Coyotes, and my faithful
Dog smiling at me.
Jan 4, 2015
Jan 4, 2015 at 2:12 PM UTC
My playlist on Youtube writes itself into a poem
It elicits Love, Lust, Loss anger along with a few other emotions
Ratatat takes me on a tour of Rome
PHOX shows me how to dance in Slow Motion
John Denver joins me on the tour of Country Roads
Highlight Tribe encourages me to Free Tibet
Bioshock Infinite do I dream of with Schyman Elizabeth
Kavinsky with his beats, urging me to Outrun
Lose Sight now and again with Andrew Bayer and Ane Burn
Abandoned Pools take me down the memory lane in Clone High
Foo Fighters whisper in my ear that I too can Learn To Fly
COCAINEJESUS, Akira, beats and samples; I have PINEAPPLEKISSES
Cloud Nothing reminds me that I should Stay Useless
Discover A Little Opus as I take a ride on Little Comets
Sky Rabbit opine and observe the present In Our Times
Joey Badass shares with me his funky ideals of *World **********
Coheed and Cambria describe brotherhood in Key Entity Extraction
Geroge Ezra sings an ode to fathers in Listen to the Man
Perfect shows me the other side of the coin with Simple Plan
The Peppers tell a story of starting over covered in Snow
Shakey Graves says takes a chance and Roll the Bones
John Wayne Gacy Jr. the serial killer is immortalised by Sufjan Stevens
Imagine Dragons, the subconscious and fears come alive in Demons
Owl City tells a fantastic fable about insomnia in Fireflies
Ellie Goulding finds sweet slumber even in dark times in Lights
Sep 23, 2015
Sep 23, 2015 at 8:24 AM UTC
"Why are you crying?
You knew it was going to die."
Humans are strange creatures.
I've known that from the start.
You were no exception.
For the time being.
You cried over everything.
Animals dying, falling over.
Whatever it was, you'd cry.
In a way, I thought you were pitiful.
But I have grown since childhood.
Remembered who I was, once upon a time.
I'd cross worlds to protect you.
Even though you contradict me all the time.
You don't like what I say.
I never understood why.
I killed all those humans for you.
Those heathens.
But even then, you cry.
You cried and cried until no more tears would flow.
I remember the words to spoke to me.
Each one slipping out on a sharp tongue.
You had no more tears.
They had run out.
You hated me.
Despised me.
So we fought.
I thought we could reconcile.
Begin again.
Life brand new.
But when I turned to you to speak.
What stared back at me was dull.
A hollow vessel.
Void of a human heart.
You wouldn't speak to me.
You wouldn't breathe for me.
No matter how much I yelled.
You would never hear.
And for the first time in my life.
I cried.
"Hey, Akira,
What are these feelings?"
Jan 19, 2018
Jan 19, 2018 at 8:07 AM UTC
I’m not of this time
Future traveler on vacation in the Land of Lost, a ship out of fuel, a world confusing, 30th century fool
I came to observe blind beings who bend to the will of a surrounding chaos
After 1000 years adrift... Tired of the creeping tedium, I’ve become one
Tired of Logging anime patches and social media confessionals for the folks back home, I became one
**You see, 21st century tragedy **** is big in the future, along with Akira and the selected letters of Eugene O’Neil**
I’m lost, tell my subordinates
Confused, no need of a map, I know the coordinates, but I’ve become one
You’re not supposed to fall in love on these missions
Just take manga pics, perhaps monitor your fission
But the eyes I’m lost in
A fading autumnal green
I had to see her, I had to be seen
A violation but I’m trained,
still I’m weak, a mind so ingrained
(I am one of you now)
While drunk counting slightly smeared, sparkles on glass glittered lips, I found myself: in love
I told her: “The wine taste on your tongue is sacramental”
A feigned profundity, it’s incidental
(a convenient disguise for my insanity)
She doesn’t love me back. But I found myself
cdh
Jun 6, 2019
Jun 6, 2019 at 5:09 AM UTC
I'm in an inquisitive mood so I want to ask you does it matter that my skin tone is somewhat darker than you?
Does it matter that I'm neither Skinnier or fatter that I don't have kool aid and malt liquor taking up space in my bladder?
that I'm reading Akira, a manga, a very good one at that, does it seem odd to you, that I do these things, yet I'm black?
Does it make me less of a black man, no scratch that does it make me less of a human
that I'm proud of my roots but hate what people can do? That I honestly see in the world behind my eyes
that a guy with a beard and turban can fly these friendly skies unchallenged or is that just a hallucination brought on by too much purple drank and watermelon
Does it matter that I don't intend on being a felon or having a record
that I sometimes think the world's on a chessboard while I'm stuck with checkers
Is it too much to ask
that one day harmony happens with an ear splitting blast
that my skin tone or ring tone won't matter in the greater scheme of things...
that maybe the fact that my name isn't to blame for what others do in slew of what's really happening.. what do you think?
Oct 25, 2014
Oct 25, 2014 at 8:52 PM UTC
Akira forest combined.
Voice.
Boxes, orange.
For subtle change in blush.
Nothing.
Really. . . chilling Michael.
Pineapple and say hello.
Yellow on the shirt.
Napkin brain.
Right em down.
Defective poems and it's all fine.
It's all fine.
I'm sure.
Garrett Johnson.
Mar 4, 2021
Mar 4, 2021 at 7:01 PM UTC
I remember us sat looking at Manga cartoons like it was yesterday. But now?
She's gone away.
And I'm just a ghost
in a shell.
When I watch Akira I still hear her.
And,
the fading sound,
of
our era.
Jul 12, 2020
Jul 12, 2020 at 5:05 PM UTC
They'll recognize me
by the sound of thunder in
my reputation.
I am no hero,
and I'm no antagonist.
I'm common at least.
Somehow I touch you
and you are changed, and it means
nothing about me.
They will know me by
a storm of fates, bent centers,
violent in the wind.
Oct 21, 2016
Oct 21, 2016 at 4:06 PM UTC
"The role of an artist is not to look away." A famous quote by Japanese director, Akira Kurosawa is a study into the human side of photographers or film technicians and the generic "role of an artist." We should not be ignorant and therefore, careless, to things that might not concern us. Being insightful and thorough is the route to perfect your art.
Jan 8, 2019
Jan 8, 2019 at 8:17 AM UTC
help me baby, akira-kun shot me in the head.
i feel
beautiful.
and poor little midori's out there
bleeding in the car.
May 10, 2017
May 10, 2017 at 10:58 PM UTC
Akira
Show me the way
Through the walls
In my mind
And when you do please stay
Despite all odds
With all your might
Akira
Today is the beginning of tomorrow
Let the problem of one person
Be the the problem of everyone
When we see the light we'll follow
The Blue bird will fly away soon
And all of us into the hands of the Sun
Nov 11, 2019
Nov 11, 2019 at 3:51 PM UTC