“Komakusa”
I do not see the “horse face” blossoms,
I see the breaking and bursting hearts
Pouring out both grief and joy at my feet,
As my shins grace your ferned fringe,
Your piney mint,
Your lacey-leafed bosom.
You are the Red Yucca of Towada Lake,
The blushing ghosts of the Hakkōda Peaks,
The tired paint brushes
On the trails of the Oirase Valley.
I am so happy to have found you.
If I could lift your face, I would.
These books aren't going to read themselves.
#weekendmood #readingtime #readingbooks #literature #bookish #ebook
The ideas and words flowed and I wrote everything down. And then one day, it felt done.
What a strange group of poems. I thought they need their place in the world.
Thus entered a new book, Dream Receipts.
I liked what I had written. It felt distinctly my voice, but didn’t seem to fit into my other stuff.
I let it sit but kept coming back to it. How do I write more like this?
What if I just kept going back to Japan for inspiration?
What if I went there in my mind and stayed?
One night, lying in bed, I thought how strange it is that places just exist apart from me. That they are places I have only seen through photographs, movies or read of in #books but are real and functioning without me.
I thought of #japan . Murakami drawn me in. And the fashion, and culture, and food.
I wrote this #poem :
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