Saturday, 19 November 2011

poetic fragments 33


Still remains in the room
Still, in the room,
Your breath.

Water to be filled,
Glass to be solidified.

I look for you
Only outside time.

Facing a burning tree,
An old man’s swallowing
His screams.

And thus
La matinée musicale has come
To the giraffe’s neck.

Thursday, 2 June 2011

poetic fragments 32

A hidden being
                                         For Akira Shimizu, a poet

His voices
Still remain
In my room.

So fragile,
Are his words.
So unusual,
Is his silence.

He’s now
Outside language,
Namely the world.

A death, a hidden being.

Saturday, 7 May 2011

poetic fragments 31

the night sun

the concert hall:
all doors opened
all windows opened
under the night sun.

among non-being
ears to hear
the earth on the strings
the universe on the keyboards.

that time, that space,
and that love remain
under the night sun.

Sunday, 1 May 2011

poetic fragments 30

night flower

two glasses:
two circles of light
at these bottoms
night begins


Thursday, 28 April 2011

poetic fragments 29


spring rain.
pattern poetry
on the bus window.

it's far sound,
far people,
and far memories

rain's falling
into the past.

always outside me.

Tuesday, 26 April 2011

poetic fragments 28

invisible fire

boys running around.
women talking about
the blossoms.

feel breeze by the finger.

and then
cherry blossoms
in my mind.

the pale blue
in your eyes.
the pale fire
in the land.

Saturday, 23 April 2011

poetic fragments 27

(photo) cherry blossoms in a park

the night sun

for three excellent artists

the concert hall:
all doors opened
all windows opened
under the night sun.

among non-beings
ears to hear
the earth on the strings
the space on the keyboards.

logics beyond logics
under the night sun.

※One day in April, three great artists came to Japan from Russia to encourage us. Their names are Gidon Kremer, Valery Afanassiev,and Giedre Dirvanauskaite. They played Bach, Brahms, Shostatovich, and Schnittke for not only us but also the dead. I thought their music sounded so deeply that it could definitely reach the other world.  I dedicated a poem to three, our dead people, and our dying people.

Monday, 17 January 2011

poetic fragments 26


The sunny bench
Next a dispenser
Where the homeless man lives.

He knows well
We are meaningless like them.

He sees to see,
Hears to hear,
Touches to touch,
The world.

He lives to live.
He dies to die.

He left the bench,
Newspaper in the sunlight.

Monday, 10 January 2011

poetic fragments 25


the birth:
the sea resides
in you.

the death:
the sea leaves

Saturday, 1 January 2011

poetic fragments 24


The Orion
In the new year's sky.

We are a noisy question.

Life: the great exception
In the universe.

The difference
Between life and nonlife,
nameless flowers know.

The Orion remains,
we go someday
Into the long-forgotten silence.