Umbrella

Raven hair, dark eyes, black sky and the falling rain,
Keeping her dry as she clings to my arm,
Soft smile and enchanting laughter,
Oh my, I could certainly get used to this.

The forest of my being

Deep green forest,
Moss covered trees,
the silent echo of stillness,

A soft breeze carries sounds from afar,
The gentle mumur of a stream,
The swishing of branches in the wind,

Reds, purples, blues and greens,
Plants raised from the earth,
tender sprouts sheltered by trees,

Rain begins to fall,
The drizzling rain carries memories from the distant past,
Brings to life and puts to rest the ancient spirits of the forest.

Wondering to myself aloud

In this land of contrasts,
New and old, I wonder,
What will the future hold?
Is there a place,
for the remains of long ago?

A night out on the town

Holding the umbrella over her head,
Laughing and talking in the cold rain,
Beautiful black eyes and a couy smile.

Yama no jinja

Whisking through the cedar trees,
I see before me a group of three,
Likenesses of kami, dieties.

Sunlight spills onto the sacred stone,
Bringing to life the spirits at home,
Glasses of water, candles and prayer.

In the hills of Kyoto that they are found.

Jabberwocky

I remember when my grandmother would recite this most famous of nonsensical poems. She was an upholder of traditional music, art,and poetry. Always singing old songs, poetry of the past to be given to the future. Giving the new generations a special gift that needs to be kept alive.

Jabberwocky

Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe;
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.

'Beware the Jabberwock, my son!
The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!
Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun
The frumious Bandersnatch!'

He took his vorpal sword in hand:
Long time the manxome foe he sought--
So rested he by the Tumtum tree,
And stood awhile in thought.

And as in uffish thought he stood,
The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,
Came whiffling through the tulgey wood,
And burbled as it came!

One, two! One, two! And through and through
The vorpal blade went snicker-snack!
He left it dead, and with its head
He went galumphing back.

'And hast thou slain the Jabberwock?
Come to my arms, my beamish boy!
O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!'
He chortled in his joy.

'Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe;
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.

My poems up until today

I'm not a poet, but since I've been here I have been inspired to write a number of poems. Not sure why, but I thought I'd post them here.


Kyoto life

Raven-haired beauty,
Sitting under sparkling electric lights,
Plum wine and pure conversation,
a cool autumn beeze.


October days

Clip-clop of wooden sandals outside my window,
Sound of black rain dancing on the earth,
The cool smell of fall in the air.


Rainy day

Sound of falling rain,
Tantilizing, taunting,
Taking my mind to places it wishes to be,
Yet it is only water falling on the canvas below


Shinto rites

Looking up from my book,
The clack of wooden sticks,
Tradition alive nextdoor.


Dusk in Kyoto

Monks chanting in the fading light,
Modern life with ancient ties,
Paved streets and shinto shrines


The Best of Times

Sitting around a low table,
Chatting cordially with friends,
Life at its best


Morning practice

Leaves blown by the brisk wind,
Steam rising from distant mountain valleys,
The haunting melody of the shakuhachi,
The enchanting sound of the Kamogawa close at hand.