In the spring Japan
A heavy mist rises
out of the valley
like gun smoke, rifling
the air, setting off a time piece
This unmetered rural wetness
that meets me most mornings
ever since I’ve transported
to this mystic realm.
I can only hand this truth over to you
That the stars are still indifferent to us
As they wait for no one behind the lights
But their indifference is perfect
Like the last pieces of a dying artist
Who you swore you were going to meet.
But like these stars
Some night when a rare black out falls over the city
And the glare recedes from view
I will look for you
to find my way of timelessness.
Filled up with lust
to quench my thirst,
shocked through the rays
of the tired sun.
Revived by the breath.
Ignited, you wake me up,
you kindle during my sleep
the last signs
Every ground letter
You bring back written
In all languages
In the dark lair.
The colors across the dead
whiteness of the night, smash the dawn
before the sun.
From the night, the flowers bloom
And the morning is glittering in the horizon,
Under the veil of the morning.
The eyes of the mountaineer,
The light of the sun
naked in the moonlight.
JAPAN IN APRIL
Truly stunning, sometimes careless,
I crave silently and far away!
Naked, filled up with perfection,
I am attending enjoyment!!!
Where there is trust there is always glee.
He never painted my passion,
Dreams from the color to the word,
Without suspense and shivers.
The moment of light strikes me.
Pressing Japanese air onto my face.
April is slowly spilling its colors,
above duplicate shadows dancing away.
Forest Spirit is the master of woods and beasts, the shepherd whose stock consists of deer, roes and rabbits, which are looked after by wolves or lynxes. His cheeks are blue, his eyes are green, and his beard is long and green. Sometimes he covers himself with furs, and some of the legends depict him as wearing a mask and having horns. His left shoe is always on his right foot, he buckles his sheepskin on the wrong side. He does not have a shadow, his blood is blue. He is looking at something else. I don’t know what. Maybe soul? His look is blunt and his pupils are small. I kissed him in the neck, exactly the place where the Adam’s Apple is.
* * *
If you were living just across and if I were a tree
In that yard,
I’d delight you with fruit,
I’ll be watered with your glimpse,
just look at me in ardor,
I’d bear the sweetest fruit for you.
ON THE WAY TO JAPAN
The muscles were tense to extremes but I never thought of giving up. With the strength of an animal, so typical of a desperado, I clutched the railing although I was not convinced that the Lord was with me. Drops of sweat were falling down my forehead, stinging my wide open eyes, and the vein on my neck, puffed up like a pipe, was pumping blood into my head. A transparent haze was spreading treacherously, and micro stars were twinkling in a cluster, whistling monotonously.
Everything was in colour.
Terrified, I realized that that my fingers were wet and that the railing was sliding from my helpless hands. I tried something but without success. The train went on quickly down the track while I was lying in the mud, defeated.
He was on it.
Trees of Japan
In some mysterious and wonderful way we are part of everything. And in that same mysterious and wonderful way, everything is a part. In order to experience this, we must be aware of how limited our senses are eyes, ears touch, smell, taste. These senses help us to function in the Seen World. What we see is interpreted by our minds and put inside our belief system, and this can become our reality. But there also exists an Unseen World. In this world we experience connectedness; we experience the mystery; and we experience another whole point of view. If we pay attention to both the Unseen World and the Seen World, our belief systems will print in our mind a new and wonderful reality. We will see and know we are a part of everything trees of japan