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"hokkaido" poems
I think in Japanese, write down my thoughts in English, then twist it all back into sushi: a tasty bite to eat. My mind is like origami folding thoughts into meditation; meditation unfolds into a crisp sheet of city lights. I love you big much, love you big time; I love the way you giggle nervously. Titter-titter, "Tee-hee-hee!" It must be amazing to find everything so funny. Big city, sake sunset; a karaoke moon rises over a robotic, neon inception. (transmutation) Transformers, Transformers: autobotic-neurotic Bumblebee comes to the aid of Samurai Prime. "Autobots, transform!!" Bored of the bright lights? Weary of the snappy-happy gaijin doing photo-photo while they look for a sweet sakura-panpan? Then take a leisurely stroll up to Hokkaido, where there's less sucky-sucky, and more bow-down-low-austerity alongside the 108 gongs a-bonging. Chant a few prayers, speak with the sacred cedars, take a dip in the hot springs with some smiling monkeys, and watch snow fall, together. Nippon, you offer everything. I can eat 20 times a day without gaining a pound. There's always more room for miso, chanko nabe, shabu-shabu, gyozo, okonomiyaki— I am going to stop writing this list so that I don't drown in my saliva. I refuse to look back, refuse to go back to the boredom of white picket fences and hamburger dreams; I want to stay here forever. I love you big much, love you big time; totemo ureshii da. March 1st, 2012
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Mar 9, 2012
Mar 9, 2012 at 10:17 AM UTC
Slowly Turning Japanese
What did you say, sugar? I had only been in Oubari a week or so Sent to the store for sugar I was a bit nervous, not scared… I had been to the local market in this village High in the mountains of Hokkaido before, Always with someone who knew some Japanese, This time, I was alone… I loved going into this market, it had everything you would ever need to Live high in the mountains, in a closed down coal mining village The smells of food, oil, machinery, everything was wonderful… So I bought the sugar after a real search, And some help, from a kind elderly man, I took my sugar home, feeling real good about my venture But, it was salt, Do you understand everything, I sure don’t….
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Jun 16, 2015
Jun 16, 2015 at 4:14 PM UTC
You said Sugar?
I’m so homesick. I miss the sound of the language, the feel of it…I miss the adventure, the beauty, the kindness, the presence of belonging. I miss long city walks at night, when the skyscrapers could be seen for miles and throw lights on the pavement. I miss the subway, the simplicity of walking from one place to another and watching the city whip past me as I stand, humming quietly as the rail tracks bump underneath my feet. I miss the feel of the language reverberate on my tongue and hear it chiming in my ears. I miss the generosity and rich culture. I miss the humility and simplicity; the ambition and indisputable threshold for righteousness. I miss the strength, the willingness of an ear, patience of an oak tree and the composure of respect. I miss the jagged horizons of mountains loom with calming familiarity with spectacular array of greens; and I miss the way the sky flower into a spectacular shade of pink at the break of dawn, speckled with yellow and deep orange. I miss gazing at the ocean, admiring the restlessness and salty wilderness I find inexplicable. I haven’t seen the sea in over a year…I used to see it almost everyday. I miss the delicacies, the delicious combination of rice, fish, vegetables, and more. I miss the mesmerizing subtleties in the culture, in the system and way of life which proves to be far from perfect, yet which is one I belong in. I miss Japan…Tokyo, Yokohama, Iwakuni, Aomori, Hokkaido, everywhere. I miss my home.
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Mar 24, 2016
Mar 24, 2016 at 10:15 PM UTC
Letter to My Homesick Self
I’m so homesick. I miss the sound of the language, the feel of it…I miss the adventure, the beauty, the kindness, the presence of belonging. I miss long city walks at night, when the skyscrapers could be seen for miles and throw lights on the pavement. I miss the subway, the simplicity of walking from one place to another and watching the city whip past me as I stand, humming quietly as the rail tracks bump underneath my feet. I miss the feel of the language reverberate on my tongue and hear it chiming in my ears. I miss the generosity and rich culture. I miss the humility and simplicity; the ambition and indisputable threshold for righteousness. I miss the strength, the willingness of an ear, patience of an oak tree and the composure of respect. I miss the jagged horizons of mountains loom with calming familiarity with spectacular array of greens; and I miss the way the sky flower into a spectacular shade of pink at the break of dawn, speckled with yellow and deep orange. I miss gazing at the ocean, admiring the restlessness and salty wilderness I find inexplicable. I haven’t seen the sea in over a year…I used to see it almost everyday. I miss the delicacies, the delicious combination of rice, fish, vegetables, and more. I miss the mesmerizing subtleties in the culture, in the system and way of life which proves to be far from perfect, yet which is one I belong in. I miss Japan…Tokyo, Yokohama, Iwakuni, Aomori, Hokkaido, everywhere. I miss my home.
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Gazing across verdant moss carpets And hills cut gently by the rail bridge, A traveler paints on a platform Undisclosed, watching the bright cove fan, Unscaleable, into fjorded mounts. Brush bristles blot confident masses, Humming while the thinner brush defines, But how can they capture in one stroke The place where foam-film ends abruptly And gives way to stillwater mirrors? Or that distant rim, broad and exposed, Where sea and sky blend and lift islands, And white clouds roll on forevermore?
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Jun 1, 2019
Jun 1, 2019 at 12:01 PM UTC
Hokkaido
Take me back to Hokkaido: The streets encased in white, The crumbling beneath our feet As we traverse this region Seeking peace, found in all directions. Take me back to Hakodate: A particular bliss can be found, In the healthy spring, Whilst we wander naked in the snow, Bathing in the deepest of seas. Take me back to Sapporo: A quiet, yet bustling city, Touches of silence paired with serenity, Glimpses of modern paired with old, Giving us the chance to find ourselves again. Take me back there with you: Eyes looking forward into the distance. Our selfishness brings us together, Yet our selfishness will tear us apart. Yet we still adore each other.
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Sep 28, 2016
Sep 28, 2016 at 6:00 AM UTC
Hokkaido.
Power flexes downward: a hulking, indifferent appendage obscene in its obviousness, but the obviousness is the point, you remind me. This latest one was only twenty- six and seemingly healthy, but no matter— in Hokkaido by now the larches have all dropped their needles, and the fumaroles of Mount Asahidake still hiss, even while covered in heaps of snow. I wish that you could take me there. I wish that we could set off into that pale oblivion and never return, immersed for the rest of our days in the frigid, accurate waters of Nature’s reality. But she has no dominion here, you remind me, and we are all just tourists in this place anyhow, sidling beneath cornices and sidestepping crevasses aslope an angry volcano in winter, that warm, glowing lodge at its foot seemingly never drawing any closer.
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Dec 14, 2024
Dec 14, 2024 at 11:51 AM UTC
Whistleblower found dead