Wednesday, April 23, 2014

Hazy View


Photo courtesy of Reddit

Hazy View


My time, your side,

can we follow where they say?


You may want to go,

hold on to what you see

And all that we will be,


I can’t take away the way

The heat, the sunlight fades and falls away


They parade for you and me,

I sigh at what we see,

Hazy for what will be


I know we two will go,

adoring the sunshine


The joy of melting,

the hotter the fire,

as we fall away


A key note to get,

no bottled marvelous is as you and I


Where do you want to be?

I’ll try to keep your fears at bay.



NaPoWriMo Day 23 – the homophonic translation. As the description on NaPoWriMo’s page describes this prompt:

Find a poem in a language you don’t know, and translate it into English based on the look of the words and their sounds.”

Definitely an oldie but a goodie, as far a poetic prompts go! As a fan of anime soundtracks, and a casual fan of J-Pop, and K-Pop, I’ve flipped homophonic translations into new poems quite a bit. For me, it is a difficult, frustrating, awesomely fun process.

Naturally, I used an anime song instead of foreign poetry. The title of the song I used is Shiki no Uta (Song of Four Seasons). This song is the ending theme of one of my favorite anime, Samurai Champloo, but don’t worry; there won’t be a pop-quiz on it.

I only incorporated the first two choruses within my poem because the body of the song was too up-tempo and rapid-fire for me to keep up.

I posted the un-translated version of the two choruses below, as well as a You Tube clip of the song itself. I encourage you to hear the song for yourself and read the actual translation of the song. My homophonic translation cannot compare to the real thing.

* (refrain/chorus 1)

mata yo ga akereba owakare

yume wa tooki maboroshi ni

anata wo oikakete ita hikari no naka de

dakareru tabi atatakai kaze wo tayori

** (refrain/chorus 2)

haru wo tsuge odoridasu sansai ("sunshine")

natsu wo miru uji nohara karakusa kawakuwa

aki no tsuki nobotta manmarusa oiwai

fuyu wo sugi mata tsukihi o kazoeru


Tuesday, April 22, 2014

National Ambassador


National Ambassador


Reserved a luxury ferry fare,

took a full-day of

personal time off,

approximately four

or five Fridays after

the war on terror

began and nothing

was the same


traversed a rush hour

that wasn’t mine,

got lost looking

for the ferry landing,

observed the famous

Edgewater hotel where

The Beatles once stayed,

found the ferry landing

with minutes to spare

before departure


endured hot-button,








crossed a sound,

swallowed a travel-bottle

of brandy and a beehive

full of butterflies

wiped away the

nervous tension with a

paper napkin, banishing

them with a beer-chaser


entered a foreign nation

with friendly, but severe

customs agents

who were curious

if I was arriving on

business or pleasure (the latter)

and if I was carrying any

contraband or narcotics (neither),


scuttled through the gateway

to meet the beautiful woman

I met online a month earlier

(she told me I

was beautiful while

I was experiencing

the blues of

negative self-image)

who was only slightly

more voluptuous and


than I envisioned


all for her to take

one look at me

and declare that

I looked nothing

like the photo

on my profile (haircut).


Well sweetie,

I told her

you got me till Sunday,

and I’m not swimming

home over a haircut,

so let’s be pragmatic.


I will gratefully

take your hand

and allow you to

show me everything.


She smiled,

And off we went.



NaPoWriMo Day 22 – dVerse Poets - POETICS: Rhythm of the road – This is a quickie free-write based on today’s dVerse road trip prompt. I might edit and clean it up a bit later. Gotta run to Flag Football now!

Monday, April 21, 2014

The Renewal

The Renewal
“Get out of the bed. Now.” wifey demanded,
calmly, urgently. “Why?” I asked, still
veiled in comfort and complacency.
“Just trust me,” she insisted. And that
was all I needed as I lunged from prone
to action in one sweeping motion,
triangulating wifey’s concentrated
glare towards the nickel-sized eight-legged
visitor on the ceiling, just above
my tumbler of bourbon and cola.
Can you imagine the anxiety
of that situation? For a few brief
moments, we stalemated as I waited
for the ceiling-crawler to lower himself
over my precious beverage on a web
like Tom Cruise on a wire. Sizing us up,
the spider slowly crawled his way directly
over our bed, within range of an
accurately-thrown shoe. Ah, but that
would be the work of an amateur. To panicked
shoe-tossing, neither of us gave way 
anymore. Teamwork makes the dream work,
they say.
Mimicking the intruder’s movement, I
slowly made my way around wifey,
successfully retrieving my precious
elixir before quickly returning
to secondary spider-killer formation
behind her.
As wifey and I coordinated
our assault plan, it dawned on me that
this is why people choose to get married.
Sure, the love, cherish, respect, support, and
all the Dr. Phil new-wave, New York City
talk-show celebrity-therapist
mumble-jumble bullshit is in there somewhere, but
deep within the recesses of our
subconscious, all we’re really asking ourselves
is, “Can I kill a spider with this person?”
The dirtiest secret of spider-slaying
is that it requires at minimal
two-person integrity. In fact,
the only real reason to sire offspring
is not to carry our genes into
the future; it is to continue
overwhelming spiders with sheer numbers
of well-coordinated SWAT-teams.
The spider knows it outnumbers you
in a one-on-one confrontation. It has
eight highly-coordinated limbs
to your clumsy four, eight superior
eyes to your inferior two, and while
on the surface, our lightning-quick
multitasking brains seem to be an asset,
it is quickly rendered a liability
as our thoughts bog down into numerous
possible outcomes while the spider’s
single purpose of escaping, returning
to bite us to death, consume our
inferior eyeballs and lay eggs in our
multitasking brains makes them elite opponents
or something like that.
Pretty sure I read that
in Time magazine.
Look it up.
At the risk of sounding conceited,
wifey and I form one of the greatest
spider-killing duos of all-time. We
instinctively slip into our roles; her,
the point-man, tactical-action officer,
a sensual assassin, and me,
the logistical resource-gathering,
intelligence-curating spider-killing
coach. We tried it the other way a few
times, and while my wingspan was superior,
spiders secrete this unknown chemical
that renders me temporarily incompetent,
my strikes, shaky and erratic. Wifey’s
death-stroke, on the other hand, is swift,
brutally effective, a joy to behold
if you’re into life-affirming, life-snuffing
death goddesses. And I just keep my
death-goddess supplied with effective weapons
and cleaning supplies because eww, gross.
For this night, the weapon of choice was a
fly-swatter with a long, elegant handle.
Except for the wide-end, it resembles a
samurai’s katana. Ceremoniously,
I pass the weapon onto wifey’s
stoic person, and she climbs the bed
with me shadowing her delicious,
purposeful curves, purposefully
toting various shoes as contingencies.
No such contingencies were needed as
my sexy samurai death-goddess
spider-assassin struck with a powerful,
blurring, crushing stroke that I am certain
caused a typhoon in Indonesia by
principle of the butterfly effect.
For good measure, she dragged her katana
across the ceiling, leaving the spider’s
carcass smeared across the ceiling, creating
her own constellation that would
only take a wetted tissue to remove.
In the moments it took for us to reflect
on triumphing over our irrational
fears yet again, I again allowed myself
contentment, relieved by the reaffirming
fact that we had once again closed ranks and
renewed our vows.


NaPoWriMo Day 21 – “New York School” poem. This recipe for writing a New York School poem really hit me where I live. I really enjoyed exploring this style.

Sunday, April 20, 2014

Requiem for an Obsolete Laptop PC

Requiem for an Obsolete Laptop PC

Old, rusted sword
Once sharp, sleek, brutally effective
Now ponderous, brittle

Dipped into sorcery
We’ve transgressed in carnal indulgences
Shortening your lifecycle

Slow to strike
Technology quickly overtakes us both
Rendering us edgeless

Sharpened your blade
Slew dragons, impaled challengers until
No edge remains

You have my gratitude
But replacement with greater processor
Comes from Amazon

NaPoWriMo Day 20 – Collum Lune – because it was either this, or string together a series of curse words aimed at my PC.

Saturday, April 19, 2014

Apprehension at Sunset

2014-04-20 02.17.13

Photo name “Trunk”, courtesy of my friend Jane

Apprehension at Sunset


Unrestricted by form,

except within nature’s bosom,

the lone tree reaches out,

imploring the sun to linger longer,

its silhouetted visage obscured

by the shallow angle.


But the sun never waits

for one lone tree, nor does

the angle of light bend for it

even as the sun dips a few degrees

from igniting the clouds along the

horizon, bleeding orange crimsons,

then violet indigos, until

the lone silhouetted tree is

indistinguishable from the

quiet of night.


Until the awaking owls

sing love songs to one another

from the branches of the lone tree,

which will slowly come into focus

once the moon delivers a love note

from the departed sun.



NaPoWriMo Day 19 – Free Write

Friday, April 18, 2014

Candid Theft


Candid Theft



Into your arms

Buoyed by our laughter

Daylight renewed, the veil removed




Into your light

On a beggar’s whisper

Kissed by your beam, it’s just a dream





NaPoWriMo Day 18 – Cinquain “Candid” Selfies. No prompt following for me today because I figured we could all use a palate-cleanser after yesterday’s bitter pill. Smile

(Yes, I just emojied. Oh yeah, I went there.)

Thursday, April 17, 2014

The Smoke Alerting You


The Smoke Alerting You


to where the flame lived.


The signpost directing you

from purgatory to limbo.


I paint grey trees on ashen

canvas and name it sunset

spitting at fate while

it consumes me whole.


I am rotten, stagnation,

and endless drought.

I am sulfur, destruction,

and newest earth.


I am Achilles’ heel and

Zeus’ unfilled ambition

dragging uncharged,

holstered lightning bolts,


potential energy drained

not kinetically

but passively, like

evaporating sweat

dispersing heat, cooling

embers, leaving only


the smoke, alerting you

to where the flame lived.



NaPoWriMo Day 17 – for dVerse Poets - MeetingTheBar: Self Portraits