Poetry: Japanese Inspired Poetry

Meinohama Station

The stop between changing lines,
where the train escapes the subway
and comes to rest in the twilight,

I always wait here for the train home.
To the north, boats are mooring
and the harbor becomes calm.

On the other side, the city is still alive:
few cars sliding through, bicycles, but mostly
people walking. That is how it is.

Here, tracks reflect the sinking sun:
an overripe peach, falling from a blue tree,
juice beginning to color the night.

The rails are burning. A Ferris-Wheel gyres.
Like a child finally growing up,
who didn’t realize what he would leave behind,

like a captain who has a voyage to make
and a family at home without him,
I want to stay, but I have to go.

I see the sea beside this way, so close
I could touch it. But the train comes too soon.

I am caught between precious things.

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A Japanese October 

A road home, this October,

this one evening, one girl trapezes

the sidewalk across the street

wandering through

the damp leftover rain,

specked with yellow leaves,

and a scent of lavender

knit into the wind.

Hearing her footsteps, I notice

the woolen tam she wears,

cranberry red,

with a pumpkin-coloured shawl

covering her shoulders.

A pretty girl even at a distance.

And closer, a girl I knew

once at camp as a child, a regret

forgotten because I couldn’t find

the words to talk with her

and I might as well be in Japan

again, for how silent I am

like cold clouds caught on a mountain

beside a road where I lived and strolled

beside a different girl while she walked

her bike home beside us.

I hadn’t yet learned how to say

the word “beautiful.”

Back then, words stuck

in the sounds of spokes

and the scuff of shoes.

There were warm words hiding

between her broken English

and her tongue. I only listened

and stepped over words like puddles.

There were wet red leaves like hearts

falling there that October as here,

noticing only afterwards

the glowing words beneath a lamp

waiting for me like an old friend,

because I was watching her colors

float past on a line of light,

my mouth tight, my feet heavy,

my hands wrapped up

in the silence of pockets.

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Peach Tree Sky

“I buy a peach at the fruit store.”

“I eat a peach, therefore I am happy.”

I practiced these simple sentences,

trying to learn the Japanese structure.

But some things are easier seen than spoken.

Coming home on a foreign subway train,

we emerged from the ground

like earthworms after rain

under the departing clouds.

To the south, beyond the rice fields,

webbed strands of mist clung to the mountains:

children crying to their fathers

at the end of one more day.

A stranger beside me was crying too,

though I knew neither language nor custom to comfort him.

I looked away into the west to find a sunset:

a peach tree sky I wished he could see.

How delicious it would be for us

to notice gray clouds shaped into thin branches,

and the sun descending like the day’s fruit.

Who knew? This peach cannot be bought,

but it can be found in unexpected places.

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My experience in Japan had a profound experience on me. It was fall of '07 when I went there, a high-school graduate, but not yet a mature adult. I definitely grew up a lot there and I would gladly go back. 

The first poem here talks about a station that I stopped at every day to and from the school I went to there. As the poem states, it was the stop between lines and so I had lots of time there to look around and wait.

The second poem shares both an experience in Japan and one from last October where I saw a girl who I had once known in Minnesota at my Japanese immersion camp. I'm convinced it was her, but, in the end, did nothing about it and never saw her again.

The final poem is another experience on the light-rail in Japan as well as an insight into the struggle to communicate.

Enjoy!

A Memory In Savannah

A Memory In Savannah

Salt taffy strung out,
the cobblestone street,
and the river where a girl
waves at incoming boats.

Another day lonely
and Adrian with his dimes,
lips wet and waiting
outside the sweet shop.

This is the one thing
he wants, here, riverside
where the streets end
in steep stairs to the water.

The stairs, what cliffs
we once descended
to shop this old street
and smell the salt water.

And I’m in this memory
like a brother beside him
saying, watch the boats.
Wave while you can.

I am the stones smoothed
round by his crossing
without fear for cars,
stumbling, but walking

past statues and history.
Even children know
all rivers run into the sea,
yet the sea is not full.

The ships come home.
Adrian, turn around
and see what daily returns
from the oceans between us.

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Here's another poem out of my September poetry challenge. My friend and I got together and decided to write a poem using the other's common theme. Mine is "placelessness", while his is "change in perspective between adulthood and childhood. Hence, this poem is a take on the latter topic.

To anyone who has spent time in the main parts of Savannah, bits of this scene should stick out as coming from River Street there where they have a cobblestone street, a special sweet shop, and the statue of a girl waving to the boats coming off the intracoastal waterway.

In this poem, I try to insert myself into my own memory. I have several poems already involving Adrian and in each of them he represents my childhood self with past understanding. So in this poem I am both Adrian, the child, and I am also myself looking back on this memory. What I see as important now is different from what was important then. The cobbled stones represent to me the way that time shapes us from our rough selves into more polished products. The boats, the statues, the rivers, all have a connection with time and memory – some elements come and go, others stay, but are often overlooked, and still others keep on moving endlessly onwards. Time is like an ocean between me and my former self, and yet I am constantly reminded of the past and I try to learn from it now, whereas once I took it for granted.

That is only my interpretation of this poem; as with many poems of mine, I'm not always sure of the meaning, only the feeling. When I write poetry, usually I try to recreate a feeling first, only afterwards to I begin to go back and analyze the specifics of what I actually mean by each line. If you had a different interpretation while reading this, please let me know; I'm curious what your thoughts are.

Either way, thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed it.

Poetry: Walking the Dog & Paris. September, 1993 & Barefoot I Go Walking In Late Summer

Walking The Dog

He leads from our house down a tired road
trotting like the master of a thousand men.
He rushes as usual behind a crowd of maples
to sniff out canine neighbors and fowl presence.

Immediately bursting off the ground, already
the geese are in place: a perfect V formation
flying away. It is always at this hour, passing by,
when a day of my past breaks away with them:

a moment from childhood looks back at me
to the time we hid ourselves beside a lake of geese,
or last week’s pardon, as needed as cool water,
evaporates and joins the cloud of forgotten days.

I believe my dog knows it, faithful lord that he is,
and brings me back day after day to wave goodbye.
He knows which roads twist to where peace is,
and he discerns the right pace to pad on home.

And who am I to argue with intelligence?


-------------------------------------------------------


Paris. September, 1993

I remember the the hotel room as black,
except for one white bed in the corner
illuminated by a large window, the sheets
barely wrinkled where I had left them.
I was five and the others were sleeping
somewhere in their own memory.

The window, like an ivory roman pillar,
reached from ceiling to ground, set apart
from the vast blackness of the carpet
and into the wall enough for a child to hide
and press his face against the outside.
I watched lights shift green, orange, then red.


Small cars stopped and the walkers walked.
I became rapt with rumbles of engines waiting
and the vision of strangers of the world
crossing the street towards a lighted balustrade.
The city’s buildings glowed against the black
and white that shaped our hotel room.

And I was larger than them all. At that moment,
I knew peace within that tall window, insomnia
driven by wonder, and transcendence behind glass.
I witnessed motion, seeing lights change green.
I felt my body and spirit grow inches in the dark
as my eyes became older, awake and aware.


-------------------------------------------------------


Barefoot, I Go Walking In Late Summer

Out of the door, I enter the dust of day.
Each morning, I go sweeping with the wind
and no footsteps are left from before,
the pavement rough as my father’s cheeks.

Each morning, I go sweeping with the wind:
toes warm against the sunburned concrete,
the pavement rough as my father’s cheeks,
I am one of many passing by, a cat, a leaf.

Toes warm against the sunburned concrete,
my soles press pine needles and gray pebbles.
I am one of many passing by, a cat, a leaf,
a king, a caveman; I do not know just what I am.

My soles press pine needles and gray pebbles.
The crepe myrtle’s blossoms are cast at my feet,
a king, a caveman; I do not know just what I am.
I go on walking and feel power in my steps.

The crepe myrtle’s blossoms are cast at my feet
like a victory blessing, given me by God.
I go on walking and feel power in my steps.
Wet grass brushes my skin. It washes me clean

like a victory blessing, given me by God.
I am a changed man. In the morning light
wet grass brushes my skin. It washes me clean.
I return through summer seeds scattering my path.

I am a changed man in the morning light
and no footsteps are left from before.
I return through summer seeds scattering my path
in through the door; I leave the dust of day.

--------------------------------------------------------

Although I'm not quite reaching the goal my friend and I have set to write 30 poems in 30 days (I've been a little too busy teaching school for that), I have enjoyed the poems that have come out of what I have done. I enjoy writing pantoums as of late because I find power in its form. Part of what inspired these poems in general is the poem "Pantoum of the Great Depression" which uses end-stopped lines to great effect. Each line seems to hold its own.

Normally, I have commentary about my poetry and what inspired them etc., but it all honesty, I feel these poems are pretty self explanatory. The first was inspired by someone walking a dog and geese flying by. The second is a revision of a poem about a real memory I have about Paris. And the third and final poem was inspired today as I took a walk outside barefoot. Perhaps the ideas are slightly more complex, but nor do I think these poems are that obtuse either.

I hope you enjoy the poems!

Poetry: The Mythic Forest; An Announcement of War

Two poems to kick off the month of September. Enjoy!

----

The Mythic Forest

At night, when light snags

the underbelly of ancient trees, once dark

like shrouded giants and whales–

light that grasps at straight lines

from car lamps driving home

through familiar country,

light that pulses like lungs

from a lantern in the black forest

of a deep backyard–

when light nails the unexpected,

a vast wild field or a large shadow

like a dragon above us,

we must feel it catch and suddenly

it pulls us close together,

out of our vague dreams,

into a wilderness stirring with myths;

a world free of our petty fears, it entices us

closer to the mystery of a presence

brooding over us; each moment

new shadows above shake loose

as leaves become scales, glistening

in our memory – mute flames

like angels who on the pathway home

stand guardian, night after night.

----

An Announcement of War

Through one cloud, two,

like a satellite passing,

a missile flew

and I was flying

like a satellite passing

through cavernous thoughts.

And I was flying

and twisting knots.

Through cavernous thoughts,

the truth (so dark) was calling.

And twisting knots,

I kept from falling.

The truth (so dark) was calling

at this late hour from a friend.

I kept from falling

to pieces on my end.

At this late hour (from a friend),

I knew and did not wish it so

to pieces. On my end,

my mind went hollow.

I knew and did not wish it. So

I entrenched myself here;

my mind went hollow,

a soldier struck by fear.

I entrenched myself here

on the couch, pretending,

a soldier struck by fear.

What was I defending?

On the couch, pretending,

through one cloud, two,

(What was I defending?)

a missile flew.

----

The first of these poems deals with how an encounter with the seemingly supernatural or unexpected and draw us closer, not only to each other, but also to a belief in things not seen. It is when we are confronted by events we cannot explain, or that feel out of the ordinary, do we begin to forget our doubts and believe in ways we didn't before. The poem itself was inspired by something simple – noticing how the headlights of cars also light up, for a moment, the trees directly above them. From that, I got to thinking about the giant shadows watching over us, so often unnoticed, but there nonetheless.

The second poem is a pantoum – a type of poem that is marked by it's repetition that changes slightly in meaning over time. Like the villanelle, it evokes a moment stuck in time. This moment of the poem never happened to me; I started writing with two questions in mind – How does war affect people? How do I view war? I'm not sure I arrived at the answer to either of those questions here, but I felt like I ended up recreating, in part, the thoughts of someone confused and detached from war. Few people desire war and bloodshed, but few also have any idea what to do about it. The "war" in this poem may be a real war, and it may be instead an argument between two people unresolved. Either way, such confrontations can leave us dumbfounded and unable to articulate our thoughts. That being said, I hope the poem itself wasn't confusing, but it is a first draft.

Any and all comments are much appreciated. Thanks for reading.

Review: Speaker for the Dead (And Why It May Never Be A Movie)

Speaker for the Dead
Orson Scott Card

A couple weeks ago I reread and reviewed Ender's Game, suddenly popular again due to the forthcoming movie. When it came out, it received both the Hugo Award and the Nebula Award (high praise for sci-fi novels). The following year, Speaker for the Dead, the sequel to Ender's Game achieved the same thing. Many top 100 sci-fi lists have Speaker for the Dead listed around 27th, not as impressive as Ender's Game, but still very impressive nonetheless. Ender's Game, whether it's great or barely mediocre is sure to make a lot of money, so why shouldn't they turn around and turn Speaker for the Dead into a movie too? First I'll review the book and then, if it isn't clear already, I'll spell out why this would never make a great movie in today's society.

The story starts off on the world Lusitania 3000 years after Ender's Game. Ender and what he did has gone down in history and so, when a new race is discovered on this planet, the Starways Congress is quick to make sure that nothing bad can ever happen to them and that their study is severely limited. But then the new race, often referred to as the piggies for their porcine appearance, kills one of the xenologists who had been studying them. Ender, still alive on a planet not too far away, hears what has happened and takes the call to speak the man's life as a Speaker for the Dead, someone who tells the truth of a man's life, not just what he did, but what he hoped to do - the good and the bad, the whole story. But doing so will reveal many secrets that others don't want to be heard. In addition, understanding the man's death will cause him to break all the rules surrounding the piggies and set off a chain of events that could lead to the planet's destruction.

I hope that sounds complicated to you, because it is. Speaker for the Dead, unlike it's prequel, is high science fiction, meaning that it introduces terms and concepts that most people don't understand without reading it. It can make a book harder to get into, but it can also make it more thought provoking at the same time. Of the high science fiction novels I've read, Speaker for the Dead is relatively easy to read, but you still have to enjoy several non-blockbuster things first including science (duh), philosophy, ethics, history, language, psychology, politics, and imagination. I love, or at least don't mind, all of those and so I am willing, even happy, to read through the various chapters in order to reach all the amazing moments throughout the book. Card's ability to have created this story is incredible and I take joy in learning about what he has created and the implications for my own life that are a part of being an active reader of literature.

As with Ender's Game, Speaker for the Dead confronts us on many levels of out own thinking to consider new truths that we may be uncomfortable with. How do we realistically perceive others who do not seem to be like us? How does a family fall apart? How does true healing occur?

As with other books in the series, I have read this book around 7 times now and will continue to read it. There is a reason that is book is so beloved by many and I invite you to discover it for yourself. That being said, if you go into this book expecting Ender's Game, you will be surprised.

And speaking of Ender's Game, I thought I would do a follow up to my article about it where I give my prediction on the upcoming movie. The following are the reasons why I believe that, if a sequel is done to the Ender's Game movie, it will not be it's actual sequel, Speaker for the Dead (I do have an opinion on what they should do, but I will explain that at the same time as my review of that book):

1. High Science Fiction Rarely Sells Well To A Popular Crowd

As previously explained, High Science Fiction is very technical – part of the reason that they are popular is that they have discovered a niche audience of nerds who love science, philosophy, ethics, history, language, psychology, politics, imagination, etc. High Science Fiction was never meant to be mainstream. Usually the ideas are strange, if alluring in their oddity, and they often make use of technology to create uncomfortable situations and dilemmas. Often moral dilemmas can work in films, sometimes even a little new technology, but philosophical conversations are usually lost on the crowds.. Speaker for the Dead has too much of all three, I believe, for the standard audience. When we see a sequel to a movie, we are usually looking for the same type of movie and Speaker for the Dead would not fit.

(for the differences between what I consider High Science Fiction and Low Science Fiction, ask me)

2. There Are Too Many Inner Conversations and Thought Processes.

As with Ender's Game, it's not just what people do, but why they do them. This is shown by thoughts and thoughts with non-visible characters (read the book and that makes sense). Movies, for good reason, rarely opt to do those sorts of things.

3. The Series Goes On To Harder To Do Books

Speaker for the Dead ends in a major cliff-hanger which doesn't get resolved until two books later. For most movies, this is a good thing because it means more movies and more revenue. In this case it means delving into movies that are even more difficult to put in movie form - split narratives, more complicated science, philosophy, and politics. I've always known this ever since I read the series. Also, due to plot complications, it would require some crazy actor hiring and changing. Already in Speaker for the Dead it would be near impossible to hire any of the same actors and it would only get more difficult as the series continues.

4. Tough To Show On Screen

The death at the beginning of the book is pretty gruesome and a couple more happen. The piggies look a little grotesque as do the buggers. Abuse never looks pretty. Painful accidents are hard to watch. In addition to the visually unpleasant things to watch, there is little action to the movie – it is more of a drama with lots of philosophical and scientific discussions interspersed as I previously said. Within those philosophical and scientific, there are also touchy subjects talked about at length. A major plot point of the story is that Ender isn't wanted on the planet because he's an "unbeliever" and this is discussed at length. Most screenplays try to play it safe and avoid edgy topics, especially those trying to be blockbuster series.

In the end, although I might enjoy an honest attempt to make Speaker for the Dead into a movie, I can't see it happening as a follow up to the Ender's Game movie. It's not what people are expecting and it's not what major companies are likely to target as a moneymaker. But as I said before, the book is still amazing and I hope you read it, especially if you like science fiction.

Review / Movie Prediction: Ender's Game

Ender's Game
Orson Scott Card

This is my 8th time reading Ender's Game, right? I've lost count. I've grown up with this book and once wrote a 13 page paper on it. With the movie on the horizon (November) I opted to read it again and realized (again) just how brilliant it is.

On the surface it is an easy to read a story about a boy genius, Ender, being trained to be a commander against an impending alien invasion. The story deals with his struggles, both physical and psychological, as the powers above him try to mold him into what they want or need him to be. It is a story about how he grapples with the isolation and scars of his past. The plot moves at a quick pace and the ending is surprising, yet fitting, and leaves us with the sense that we have read something profound even if we don't fully understand it.

Because the profound is there within this book. It is full of symbols and layers of meaning if the reader chooses to find them. The characters, especially Ender, are complex and the ideas presented within challenged modern thought at the time it was released (1977) and even so today. Indeed, it puts forth many uncomfortable ideas as truths. This fact has caused some readers to hate the book with a passion even as others adore it. It seems to me that the greatest works tend to divide their audience and this book is no different. Card even gives examples of both kinds of readers in the introduction which he later added.

I agree with many of those truths and I identify on many levels with the main character Ender and thus I love this book and hold it dear to my heart. It should be obvious that I recommend it (and perhaps I have already recommended it to you in person), but I do so knowing that your appreciation of the novel will only be as deep as the effort you put into it.

It is here that I would turn my thoughts to the upcoming movie. It's been a long time coming and surprising that it hasn't been produced earlier. Done correctly, it could be an excellent movie. But I have my reservations, not based on the trailers, but based on the modern audience and the current movie trends.

A modern audience seems to be largely looking for crowd pleasers: Action, Romance, Excitement. Not that a crowd pleaser can't be deep or at least well put together (it is rare), but the book, Ender's Game, is not a crowd pleaser when all is said and done. It is brutal in its portrayal of children and what they are capable of, the which, if shown on screen as written, will not be what people are expecting from the movie. The politics of the book, while interesting on the page, may well be boring to the modern audience. In addition, the scriptwriter and director, Gavin Hood, has had his hits and misses with films. Beyond these points there are some specific things that will be hard for the movie because cinema just doesn't do these well:

1. Thoughts and Reasonings

Most of Ender's game is not just what is done by Ender or the other characters, but why they do them, the intelligent thought processes behind their actions and the way that they make sense out of the world around them. The book is filled with Ender's judgement of a situation. The words that are said are not nearly as important as what is thought. If all we hear in the film are the words of the characters, we will not truly understand the characters or the movement of the plot.

2. Philosophic Banter

The kids within the book are meant to be geniuses and, while they still do and say many immature things, they also have complex philosophic debates and internal struggles. The modern audience won't be looking for that in a film that showcases explosions in its trailers and, frankly, most movies these days don't bother. In a book, those who don't want to hear it skip ahead; in the cinema, people get irritated or even walk out.

3. Extreme Violence to Children.

No spoilers, but a book can get away with more violence than a movie. The reader can decide how graphic they want it to be; a movie too often spells it out. This movie is sure to be PG-13, so there are already a myriad of important events that won't happen as they do in the book.

4. Time-skips

Time-skips are relatively simple in books - they require a logical transition with the important details filled in. A movie has to hire additional actors and often a time-skip throws off the pacing. Ender's Game has multiple time skips. I can see them getting around some without hassle, but not all. The main action of the book takes place over 7 years, with an additional 10 years at the end. Which leads me to the final point:

5. Denouement

Denouement means the way the story unravels after the climax. Much can go wrong to make a movie fail between the climax and the end, and if the ending isn't satisfying, the whole movie sours. A book can, effectively, cover a lot of time quickly to achieve the denouement. The ending of Ender's Game is, while unexpected, satisfying, after thinking about it, but it is so by covering many years and brushing over many events that would be difficult for a movie to cover. It leaves you with hope. Obviously, I can only say so much while not giving spoilers, but the movie, if it desires to stay true to the book, will struggle mightily to find a good ending place.

In the end, I'll watch the movie, but not with high hopes of seeing Card's Ender's Game, but a loose interpretation of it. The visual effects will be stunning and the action scenes will be amazing I am sure. Some careful pausing of the trailers makes me think that there may even be a chance that they capture some of the key points. But in the end, the book is famous and still being printed 36 years after its publication. It won two major awards and is constantly high up if not first on many Top 100 Sci-Fi Book lists. And I reread it for a reason. I doubt if the movie will receive such accolades.

Reviews: The Rithmatist, The Positive Dog, Repair

The Rithmatist
Brandon Sanderson

I love the author's ability to create a believable world and here Sanderson does it again.

The story takes place in an alternate history of the United States. What if the states were all islands? What if there was a mysterious power called Rithmatics where some could use chalk to make things come alive? And what if some of the chalk creatures were wild and ferocious and had to be contained?

Such is the set-up for the story where a normal boy named Joel who attends an Academy mixed with Rithmatists and non-Rithmatists. He loves Rithmatics and loves its study, but not everyone does. And then, suddenly, students start to go missing under strange circumstances. Something is happening that hasn't happened before and it soon falls to Joel to help figure it out along with an old Rithmatic professor and a strange remedial Rithmatist girl.

Overall, I really enjoyed the book. It's the first in a series, but it did a good job of setting up the characters as complex people while at the same time containing action and a bit of romance (perhaps). The "magic" in the book is, as usual, well thought out and the drawings really help us to visualize it as well. The book also manages to keep you guessing until the very end as to what is really happening with the mystery and who is doing all the bad things. As usual, the world is well created and gives off the sense that the author knows so much more about the world than we do. Because of that, it allows me to trust that the author really is telling an authentic story with limits and bounds and not merely manipulating plot events to serve his own purpose. The author also shows well his ability to write for a variety of audiences. This book is intended more for young adult readers than some of his other books, but it is still a good read regardless of age.

I will probably read most of what this author writes because, thus far, everything I have read from him has been excellent and this book is no exception.

The Positive Dog
Jon Gordon

I'm not normally the non-fiction type, so when my boss said that we'd have to read this book before the start of the school year, I was initially skeptical. This book, however, does a good job of holding the reader's interest in the subject of positivity. It even uses a fictional account to display its meaning.

The story, inasmuch as there is a story, it about two dogs, one who starts off as a negative downer dog, and another who is a happy positive dog who likes to go around spreading positivity and explaining the benefits of being positive. The story itself is uncomplicated and sweet and a good mechanism for the message of the book. Does the book still feel non-fictiony? Yes, but at an acceptable level. The book is short, each chapter ranging from about 2-3 pages.

If you feel like you could use a boost of positivity or some advice on some things to do to be more positive, this book is helpful, easy to read, and easy to apply. So go for it.

Repair
C.K. Williams

As many know, I love to write poetry and one of the best things I can do then is to read it. This book was a winner of the pulitzer prize for poetry.

So, did I enjoy the poetry in this book? I'll admit, the author has an extremely different style from me, but there were still several gems for me. The author has a large vocabulary and likes to use it and his lines are all very long, which can sometimes make the poem feel conversational and can other times bog me down. That being said, his poems tend to have a strong ending. If you enjoy poetry, give it a try. I wouldn't say his poetry is for everyone, but there are many elements to his poetry that very worth reading.