Page 35 of 65

Writers in focus

Greenhouse Blues (Simon Rowe)

Greenhouse Blues
by Simon Rowe

Last month a fortuitous thing happened. I discovered a large greenhouse beside the university where I work. It is used by the Faculty of Pharmacological Science to grow medicinal plants for research and is tended by a retinue of elderly men in powder-blue overalls who water and weed and keep the insects in check.

The good thing about March is that there are no university classes; the researchers are all off in Borneo or Guatemala, or wherever it is that they go to study medicinal plants, give medicinal presentations and try the local ‘medicine’ (for medicinal purposes only), which left myself and the powder-blue people to enjoy this cedar pollen-free paradise in peace.

When I first stepped into the greenhouse, the outside temperature was a big fat zero; inside it was a lush twenty-five degrees Celsius, which had me loosening my collar and humming “April Sun in Cuba” while I settled down to read my lunchtime paperback. It was Charles Bukowski’s “Post Office”, a winding yarn about a guy (himself) who skives off during working hours to go gamble on horses, drink, chase women and write bestsellers.

The powder-blue people disappear every lunchtime, so after a few weeks I started to feel a little lonely sitting in this jungle all by myself. To remedy the situation I sent out an invitation to my long-time friend, Smokin’ Joe Matsumoto, the old kitchen gardener who lives up my street. I asked him to join me. I thought he might enjoy sitting around and telling yarns about ‘old Himeji’ beneath the Piper longum (peppercorn) bush, Tamarindus indica (tamarind) tree, Cymbopogon (lemongrass),  Zingiber officinale (ginger), jasmine and orchids, but I’m yet to hear back from him.

I wanted to show him the Rauvolfia serpentina (Indian snakeroot) which, I’ve since found out, contains two hundred known alkaloids and is used as a traditional antivenin to treat snake bites in India. A little more reading and I discovered that Alexander the Great used it to cure Ptolemy of a poisoned arrow injury; Mahatma Gandhi also took it as a sedative. Snakeroot contains reserpine, an antipsychotic, antihypertensive alkaloid, which was once used by Western medicine to treat high blood pressure and schizophrenia. It is still one of the fifty most used plants in Chinese medicine.

I knocked on Smokin’ Joe’s door—he has a bear-like tendency to venture out in late March when the fragrance of the plum and cherry blossoms carries on the gusting Haru-Ichiban—but there was still no reply.

Then I had second thoughts; I feared our little ‘green-ins’ might attract attention. If other administration staff found out they could take their coffee breaks in the tropics, it might get a little too hot in there. I had to be careful.

The other day, I finished the Charles Bukowski book and searched my shelves for the next thing to take to the greenhouse. I passed over Joseph Conrad’s Heart of Darkness (too dark), Spencer Chapman’s soldiering-in-Malaya memoir The Jungle Is Neutral (too long), and Peter Matthiessen’s missionaries-in-the-Amazon adventure At Play in the Fields of the Lord (too much drama). In the end, I picked out an old favourite, Eric Hansen’s Stranger in the Forest, about his journey on foot from one side of Borneo to the other.

So, with coffee and book in hand, and whistling Guns ‘n Roses’ “Welcome to the Jungle”, I returned to the greenhouse yesterday.

Only to find it locked.

******************
You can read more notes from the Good Hood of Himeji here: https://www.mightytales.net/seaweed-salad-days

Writers in focus

Love in the time of COVID 19

Below are two more villanelles from Preston Keido Houser. A villanelle is a fixed-form poem consisting of five tercets and a quatrain which follows a specific rhyme scheme using only two different sounds. It originated as a form of ballad and took its name from a 1606 poem by Jean Passarat, coming into fashion in the nineteenth century. As can be seen from the poems below, the first and third lines are repeated in the subsequent verses, coming together at the end with added significance.

Coming closer towards stifling straits
Humanity oscillates behind sterile walls
Left to ponder what landscape awaits

The earth at the mercy of teutonic plates
Hope resonates as the sky faintly falls
Coming closer towards stifling straits 

Pollution, radiation, population—none abates
Hubris exacerbates diplomatic brawls
Left to ponder what landscape awaits

No romance but calculated measures and weights
Science extrapolates as exuberance stalls
Coming closer towards stifling straits

Doomed demand less from elitist debates
Devotee advocates calm while Darwin calls
Left to ponder what landscape awaits

Amid a diaspora of decimated states 
Compassion creates as the heart crawls
Coming closer towards stifling straits
Left to ponder what landscape awaits

Reincarnation yet another beleaguered fall from grace
Enriching the rich and impoverishing the poor
Conditions that caused the collapse in the first place

Energetic normalcy that prompted the modern to chase
After treasure now demands an end to ravenous rapport
Reincarnation yet another beleaguered fall from grace

Since mercenary machines have become the master race
Perverted polis transformed to an automated killing floor
Conditions that caused the collapse in the first place

A weary world must needs resist the temptation to retrace
The patterns that generated an egregious esprit de corps
Reincarnation yet another beleaguered fall from grace

No return required to a socially toxic interface
But fare forward away from a system the majority abhor
Conditions that caused the collapse in the first place

Predestination and promised contagion keep apace
Adherence to a phony fate too ignoble to ignore
Reincarnation yet another beleaguered fall from grace
Conditions that caused the collapse in the first place


NB How to Read a Villanelle
Like Japanese haiku, a villanelle is instantly recognizable by its verse form: five tercets followed by a concluding quatrain.  While the metric line is not fixed, the rhyme scheme and refraining lines are established. Traditionally, themes are external and obsessive, meaning that the poet tends to concentrate on a single social theme and uses the refrains to underscore the thematic inferences, in this case responses to the COVID 19 virus. Since villanelle topics tend to be non-psychological, the writer avoids personal pronouns (although pronouns are often implied as in Dylan Thomas’ “Do not go gentle into that good night”). Spiritual content may be present but the social and political focus tends to occupy the foreground of the poem, the spiritual consigned to the background. Again, like haiku, the villanelle poet is likely to present, say, 70% of the topic, allowing the reader to fill in the lacunae, make the connections, and bring the poem to conclusion.

Twenty Villanelles by Preston Keido Houser is available in print and kindle versions at amazon.com. (For those in Japan both versions are available here.) For a previous villanelle by Preston, see here. For a selection of four poems here. For his witty Zen limericks, click here and here. For an improv poem, see here.

Writers in focus

Catherine Pawasarat

Catherine Pawasarat: Self-Introduction for Writers in Kyoto

The Clear Sky Retreat Center in the Canadian Rocky Mountains, founded by a group of expats in Japan (all photos courtesy Pawasarat)
Catherine Pawasarat

It’s a pleasure to join Writers in Kyoto. I appreciate the warm welcomes and it’s heartwarming to see some old familiar names and faces.

I grew up in Kansas City, U.S., and always dreamed of traveling abroad. I started studying foreign languages as a way to help me do this. A friend at Columbia U talked me into studying Japanese with him, even though I had virtually no interest in it. He dropped out and mysteriously I stuck, even though I found it impenetrable. I was impressed by how committed my Japanese professor was to our success: he held extra study groups every week, the only prof I had who did this.

My major was Spanish and English Comp Lit, and on graduation I dreamed of traveling around Latin America. But I was broke and a young woman and had no idea where to go or what to do, none of which boded well. My Japanese prof suggested I go to Japan, teach English for a year, and then travel around Asia. It seemed like a good idea. I went to the library and there were two photo books on Japan: one of Kyoto and one of Tokyo. The photos of Kyoto looked like paradise, so I decided to go there. I jumped on a plane in 1989.

Catherine’s old neighbourhood, the Kita Kannon Yama

For my first year in Japan I felt I’d been duped. Kyoto looked nothing like the photos I saw in the book. I was too busy teaching English in Osaka, paying off exorbitant deposits on apartments and phone lines in bubble-era Japan, to visit Kyoto temples and gardens.

As a lit major, I longed to write. I got a job copywriting at an ad agency in Osaka. Futurist Alex Steffen persuaded me to take his job as a freelance regional correspondent at The Japan Times. I loved getting paid to write about things that interested me, and there was always so much of interest in Kyoto.

I also wanted to get serious about Japanese so decided to go to Japanese school full time. I didn’t think I could support myself as a part-time journalist. Through serendipity (and not surprisingly former Kyoto Journal editor David Kubiak) I was offered a free place to live. It turned out to be a empty, sprawling historic traditional home with an enormous garden, in downtown Kyoto. It looked like the photos in that book! Four of us young gaijin lived there, and since we had no money we also had no furniture, so we were unintentionally very Zen. I learned the hard way to live with the seasons, and why the Japanese bath is heaven on earth.

Most relevant here, one day I ran out my front door and bumped into a gigantic wheel as tall as I was, lashed to timbers with rope. A bunch of Japanese guys paused for about two seconds to blink at me, then carried on with their rope and timber lashing. I had to get to Japanese school. By the time I came back Kita Kannon Yama was adorned in all its glory. I had no idea what it was, so started with the basics. I walked around asking Japanese men, “What is this?” and watched them try to come up with a response.

The statue of the Minami Kannon Yama, part of the Gion Festival

I wrote two articles on the Gion Festival that first summer, one on the controversy around women’s participation and the other on its internationally valuable textile collection. My Japanese was decent but I still walked around with my Japanese-English dictionary in hand, leafing through it after speaking to people, and as I tried to read the Japanese-only signs. There are lots of words in the festival that aren’t in even the best dictionaries, so I quickly learned to spend time listening to people who knew things. They turned out to be relatively small in number. Getting to know them and participating in the ancient oral tradition of the Gion Festival has proven to be one of the great joys of my life.

After a nine-month stint studying plant medicine in the Brazilian Amazon in the late 1990s, I realized I needed to learn to meditate. Ironically my karma led me to Doug Duncan, a Canadian-born meditation teacher who’d been invited to teach in Kyoto. After meditating for 10,000 hours, all those Kyoto temples took on a very different meaning.

There are temples everywhere in Kyoto of course, but around the year 2000, because of the Om Shinryikyo scandal no one wanted to let foreign strangers do retreats there. So as a group, with my meditation teacher and now partner, we founded the Clear Sky Retreat Center in Canada, in the wilds of the BC Rockies. Leaving Kyoto broke my heart but I’ve found much freedom that I hadn’t realized I didn’t have. Last year, based on years of teaching and training together, Doug and I self-published Wasteland to Pureland, a manifesto for transforming suffering into spiritual liberation.

It’s been a wonderful challenge to reconcile spending time in B.C.’s wild nature with spending time with the Shinto kami of the Gion Festival. Working to develop a sustainable organization in Canada has given me much food for thought about the sustainability of the Gion Festival, and the role tourism can play in that. Mostly, though, my meditation practice and experiences in the Amazon helped me to connect with the Gion Festival’s very profound spiritual dimensions. They are available to those who are seeking.

Catherine particularly likes the ‘byobu festival’, when heirlooms are displayed to the public by families and local companies.

After years of enjoying the Gion Festival I realized that it wouldn’t be right to keep it all to myself. Some years back I created Gion Festival.org as a guide to the Gion Festival labyrinth, and I’ll be self-publishing the first English-language guide to the Gion Festival in summer 2020. Since the Gion Festival is dedicated to deities that bring or guard against epidemics, working on the book during this Covid-19 outbreak has given me much to ponder.

Heartfelt thanks to WiK members for your support in this undertaking from across the ocean. Hope to see you in Kyoto.

Historically many people would watch the festival from second storey windows, out of which they would call out to the float musicians.
Kyoto crafts are evident in many aspects of the festival, such as the specially designed yukata for the different floats.
The ‘ondotori’, or float drivers, play a vital role in the skill of corner-turning

Lunch with Rebecca Otowa

Lunch with Rebecca Otowa
reported by Lisa Wilcut

WiK members gathered on the misty afternoon of March 14 for a lunch talk with Rebecca Otowa at Ume no Hana near Karasuma Oike. The congruence of season and venue hinted at the deep connections with time and place that are a hallmark of Rebecca’s works, which are heavily influenced by the cycles of nature, of seasonal activities, and of family. Her three books were published by Tuttle, the latest due out next week. She’s also started a blog (rebeccaotowa.com) where she continues to write about life in the countryside, Japanese culture, and psychology.

The talk started with the surprise showing of a hidden treasure: Rebecca’s handwritten, hand-illustrated manuscript of the first version of what would undergo a significant transformation and become her first book, At Home in Japan (2010). That original manuscript is a collection of essays about daily life in Japan, arranged by season, each one accompanied by Rebecca’s charming and detailed drawings, and is quite a different creature from the published version.

The cover of Rebecca’s second book was illustrated with her own paintings

Her second book, My Awesome Japan Adventure (Tuttle 2013), is the diary of the home-stay experience of an 11-year-old boy. The setting is again rural Japan, and a sense of the season during his four months from autumn into the new year is a strong presence.

While her first two books were explanatory and expository, her third book is a work of fiction that is often grounded in her life. Some of the stories in The Mad Kyoto Shoe Swapper and Other Short Stories (Tuttle, March 2020) were inspired by people she knows and events that happened in her village. Others are works of pure imagination.

Process
In at least one case, Rebecca had an idea of the arc of the story before she started, but for others, she says that her characters usually determine the story, and that they create the situation. She likened her process to a quote from Stephen King, that writing fiction is like following a multi-colored string through the grass.

Unlike King, however, Rebecca says she doesn’t force herself to keep a strict writing schedule. She writes for herself and lets her works take shape organically rather than forcing them into a mold. When once asked during an interview who her intended audience was, she replied, “Well, me! Is that bad?”

Rebecca shares a moment with Lisa Wilcut

On publishing (and persevering)
Reflecting back to her beginnings as a writer, some years ago she had the thought “If I could just publish one book. . .” and along the way, that one book has become three. Rebecca emphasized the power of visualization. When the first book was in the works––a process of several years––she went to bookstores and visualized her book there on the shelves. She says that kind of vision and mindset is very important, and that it’s no use worrying about whether or not your book will sell.

Getting that first book into print started with a connection born from a network. When she was ready to put her manuscript out into the world, someone she knew in Tokyo knew two people who had been published by Tuttle. Meetings were arranged, and the rest, as they say, is history.

Rebecca says her experience with getting her first book published was not the story of countless rejections so often heard about young writers trying to break into print. Although Tuttle rejected the initial version of her first book, they did like the idea of the book itself, and guided it into a different direction. Rebecca says that in reshaping the book, she had to choose between the art and the content. The first version includes a number of delightful and meticulously drawn sketches for each essay. However, she chose to focus on the writing, which she expanded in the process of reshaping the book.

Like Rebecca, John Dougill has also had three books published by Tuttle. Both reported that the experience with each book was different from the last. In some cases, Tuttle had a vision for the book that was quite different from what the writer had in mind, though for other projects, the publisher and/or editor had a rather light hand.

What’s Next?
Plans for the future may include a work on the “Japanese psyche” something Rebecca has been considering for a long time and about which she has pages and pages of ideas waiting in the wings. It was suggested that this might be particularly successful as a work of fiction, followed by the realization that she may have already dipped her toe into those waters with the situations and character sketches in her forthcoming book. She’s been asked about audiobooks and television adaptations of her published books, possibilities that she has not entirely dismissed.

An appreciative group plus special guest, Ted Taylor’s daughter Sora

Featured writing

Six Zen Limericks

by Preston Keido Houser

There once was a monk from Tangier
Whose prayers left him nothing to hear
But by embracing the violence
Of interminable silence
Did a mantra appear to his ear

There once was a monk from Bayonne
Who was blind to the beam he was shown
But by loving his eyes
Did he thus realize
There’s no way of knowing the known

There once was a monk from Ecuador
Who death and decay did deplore
But looking out from within
To the sign on the skin
Saw the body at best is metaphor

There once was a monk from Seville
Who set out to eradicate evil
But he learned all too soon
That one kills to consume
And the devil lives on in the angel

There once was a monk from Queens
Who demanded to know what it means
The mind when it’s one
Sees the two turn to none
And the real revealed in the seems

There once was a monk from Changchun
Whose disciples were eager and young
They called at his door
Like waves to a shore
Or like bells that have yet to be rung

******************

For a Villanelle by Preston, see here. For Improv Poetry, here. For a selection of poems, here. To hear Preston talk about shakuhachi and Zen, and to hear him play, please listen to the following podcast:
https://www.ancientdragon.org/podcast-library/

Featured writing

Your Inner Witch

Meet Your Inner Witch in Just Five Easy Steps
by Marianne Kimura

Introduction: I’ve had to find out a lot about witches in the course of writing academic pieces about Shakespeare’s plays with witches, such as Macbeth, or in which some sort of magic occurs, like The Winter’s Tale. From my gleanings, I wrote this brief and handy instructional how-to guide for those of you who wish to meet your inner witch quickly and without extensive study. (Note: “witches” include male, female and any other gender. I’ve used “she” as the main pronoun but please feel free to take it only as a syntactic placeholder carrying no semantic information, and to change it in your mind while you read.)

*****************

All you need for making moon water (pic by John Dougill)

Witchery is all the rage. Witches are resurgent, witches are among us, witches are here, there and everywhere. Thus it behooves you, a mortal, to hunt for your own witch within you, not to set her on fire but to explain to her what you intend to do and to ask for her witchy advice.

Step-the-first. Contact your witch. Close your eyes and visualize a hill. See her clambering up a slope of sliding and rolling stones. As her foot steps on one stone, it gets loose in the sandy dry soil and falls or rolls away down the mountain, but your witch stays just ahead of the crumbling path, and this is how she makes progress. Thus you shall know her by her desperation and by her energy. She is unmissable. A figure on the hill, a tiny point, a speck, but you will know her, certainly, all the same.

Step-the-second. Cast a spell. It is a requirement that you cast a spell. This is for the purpose of initiation and to gain the trust of your witch. Some see spells as mere love song lyrics or just the noise of sparrows, but do not be fooled, do not be dissuaded. Stand facing the wind and the rain and imagine your seed corn is in your palm, then throw it north or south or east or west, or into a bucket of moon water*, depending on your desires and your necessities. There! Now you have done it, now you are initiated, you are one of us she will say. Welcome to the coven. You have met her face to face. Do not, I say, do not pull her ears at this point. Not yet.

  • moon water is made by leaving a container of water outside under the full moon

Step-the-third. Tell your own fortune. Already you have journeyed so far along this path, you have gotten this far, so you should be able to see clearly now some of the landscape features around you, whether they are mountains, rivers, trees, daffodils, bridges, or so forth. But yet, your inner witch knows, and you know too, that some features remain hidden behind vaporous, swirling mists or voluminous flowering bushes, or they are obscured by being too distant. You can use tarot cards to see behind the bushes or through the mists. Also, two tarot cards, when rolled up cylindrically, make a fine pair of binoculars to see the distant future. But I jest. But I do not jest. Logic suggests to us that jesters never tell the truth, but witches always tell the truth. Except when they are jesting, or only when they are jesting.

Step-the-fourth. Determine your witch-name. Yes, your witch has a name and this name will patently, obviously be different from your “real” name. How to find this name? Imagine that the universe is revealing this name to you in some innocuous places: the words in songs, such as the sun, snow, fireflies, stars, walled medieval city, whiskey; or the types of birds you have seen in the skies, whether swallows or hawks or starlings; or even the colors of various extraordinary watercolor paints, such as azure, cyan, sandpaper, February pink, chestnut. Eventually, from many whisperings and mutterings and clamourings, from a chorus of many possibilities, one special word, like the sound of a bell, will emerge as the victor and claim your soul. With a mysterious smile, whisper your witch’s name while gazing out of a window at either dusk or dawn. This window and its twilight reflection will symbolize your interior perspective on your new identity as a witch named ―?––.

Step-the-fifth-and-last. Find a familiar to help you. The orbit of Venus around the sun relative to the Earth famously makes a perfect and beautiful five-pointed star, also known as a pentagram. Even the Ancients knew it. Five, the goddess’ number, is therefore the hallowed number, signifying the fifth and final step. Your goal is therefore within sight, like the five fingers on your left hand. Your familiar may already be familiar: the brooding huntsman spider on your wall, the devious moths fluttering out from your clothes drawer on the summer solstice, a shadowy black cat in your garden, a tiny ribbon snake in your tea cup. It is recommended that you look everywhere for your familiar, but do not rush. As you look, be cosmic, be circumspect, be magical, be wise, be yourself. (That’s five). Also, learn to interpret what those beautiful crow feathers mean when you see them on the road before you. And please, do buy a broom (unless you already own one), but a pointy hat is only optional.

Now you have presumably met your inner witch. You may pull her ears, or your own ears (by now they are the same), but not too hard, and only in jest.

*****************

More by Marianne Kimura here or here or here or here or here or here. The pieces concern thoughts on Shakespeare, goddesses, ninjas and a prize winning entry for the Writers in Kyoto Competition.

Featured writing

A Single Thread (James Woodham)

A SINGLE THREAD
James Woodham

a single 

thread
the spider’s 
leaving

light 
travelling 
along it

breeze 
sliding it 
back

a whiteness of wings –
from the shore a heron lifts
away on water

***********

egret takes to air
wingtips grazing the lake
gliding on shadow

***********

a piece of the dusk 
breaks off and takes to the air
becoming heron

leaves hardly moving
from the depths of the blue sky
faint trace of birdcall

************

tobi circles once
in the sky above my head
leaving empty blue

************

dull heat of noon –
in the bushes a bird calls
without conviction

************

vanishing into
the dark crevice – lizard’s tail
a startling blue

************

air awash with sound 
insistence of cicadas
the tree’s symphony

************

crunching of acorns 
underfoot on the mountain’s
shadow-dappled path

************

sun low on the hills
plumes of the susuki grass
softly luminous

************

nothing but the cold
no wind, no sky visible
a few flakes of snow

************

always coming back 
to the platform by the lake
and the sky mountains

*************

finding myself here 
home again and with a sigh
the train pulls away

***************

For previous contributions by James Woodham, please see the striking poems and stunning photography here.  Or here. Or here. Or here.

Featured writing

Here comes Kenji (Ramsden)

Here Comes Kenji

by Kevin Ramsden

It was late on a weekday afternoon, and James was nearly two-thirds into his second beer of the day. Raising his head from the reading of his newspaper, he gazed absently around the barely populated bar he was sat in, properly taking in his surroundings for the first time. With its outdated furnishings, dark stained wallcoverings and low ceiling, it certainly was a funky little spot. Gloomy, slightly malodorous, somewhat on the small side, and buried at basement level in a non-descript building in downtown Osaka, he was thinking it probably didn’t grab much in the way of passing trade. Truth be told, he wasn’t really sure why he had decided to venture down the litter strewn steps and into the semi-darkness of the joint in the first place. Sure the flickering neon “bar open” light might have had something to do with it, but something else had drawn him in, and that something seemed to be keeping him there, and for more than one pint at least.  He had actually been looking for another boozer in the same vicinity that reputedly attracted a good percentage of the city’s ex-pat community, where he was hoping that he might be able to hook up with a few people in the know who could help a new kid on the block out.  With only a couple of weeks under his belt, he really needed to start making connections that would lead to something resembling employment. Although not yet desperate, he knew if he didn’t find work soon, it would be time to jack it in and head home. And for James that was simply not an option he wanted to consider. Too many problems back there. But as that pub was probably not yet open, this subterranean pleasure palace would have to provide refuge for another hour or two. And what the hell, they had beer – he would manage.

Continuing his surveillance and purposefully avoiding eye contact with any of the other early evening patrons, his attention now settled on the large flat screen TV up on the wall to the right of the bar area, currently showing a baseball game between the Hanshin Tigers and Yomiuri Giants.  James had no interest in baseball.  Didn’t understand the game, its rules, or why it was so popular.  Judging by the way the other half dozen or so local punters littering this joint were behaving, nor did they.  Nearly all were either staring into space, staring at their drinks, or staring, eyes closed, into their own souls. 

All save one.

Perched on a bar stool at the far end of the counter, and eyeing him intently through a soft drifting of cigarette smoke and dust motes, was a princess.  A real vision.  A little taken aback, James immediately straightened in his chair and lifting his beer glass slowly to his lips, returned her look with a steady one of his own. How had he missed her? Had she been there the whole time?

This was very interesting.

Narrowing his eyes, the better to bring her face into focus, he struggled for signs of recognition.  She was certainly beautiful, undoubtedly self-assured, and making her interest in him blatantly obvious.  But he was sure he didn’t know her.  If they had met before, he most definitely would have remembered it.

Next move?

It was hers.  Sliding off the bar stool with a barely a sound, and plucking her wine glass up off the counter by its stem, she glided across the five meters or so distance between them like a swan on ice.  James now followed her progress with a little uncertainty.  What was happening here?  Then she was there.  Standing directly in front of him, looking down with an amused smile playing on her perfectly shaped, gloss red lips. Parting them slightly, she murmured,

“Americajin?” 

“No, English”, he replied cautiously, “You?”

“Very Japanese”, she responded with a laugh, inclining her head to one side and casually sweeping strands of her immaculately bobbed hair behind one ear.  James was as close to speechless he had ever been, but managed to gather himself enough to extend an invitation,

“Would you like to join me?”

With a small nod of acceptance, and another effortlessly seductive smile, she lowered herself into the chair opposite his, taking a long sip from her glass before slowly placing it on the table.  He took a quick look around the bar to see if anyone else was bearing witness to this, but nothing had really changed. No one seemed to be showing any interest in how this little scene was playing out, except for perhaps the bartender, who, despite fiddling with a beer tap, was actually casting furtive glances in their direction. He was a pretty cool young Japanese guy with decent English, and as they were close to the same age, they’d chatted a bit about this and that while James was being served earlier. James raised his eyebrows a couple of time to register the universal code for surprise, but the bartender’s expression came back a little flat, in fact even a little hostile.  Strange. 

Still, James had something else to occupy his mind right now, and she was in a very friendly mood.  The conversation went back and forth easily, and very soon he began to relax into it.  She told him her name, Reina, and of her love for speaking English and travel.  He explained why he had come to Japan, and a little of his previous life in the UK.  She talked of her hometown, Tottori, and how she had moved to Osaka for work.  He brought up the difficulty he was having nailing down decent employment, but was confident something great would turn up in time.  Pretty soon, and much to his surprise, they found themselves exchanging phone numbers and LINE details and were even chatting over the idea of leaving and moving on to another more interesting hostelry. All in all, they appeared to be getting along just swimmingly … until. 

Noticing the hint of a tattoo peeking out from under the short sleeve of the blouse she was wearing, and intrigued by something he had not seen on any of the young Japanese women he had encountered thus far, he decided to casually comment on it,

“That’s an interesting bit of artwork on your arm, Reina, can I see the rest of it?”

Getting surprisingly flustered and even a little panicked, she tugged on the shirt sleeve in an attempt to hide it, and then standing up abruptly, and muttering something in Japanese, made a short apologetic gesture and excused herself, claiming an urgent need to visit the bathroom.  James sat back in his chair, clearly astonished by this sudden change in mood and events, and shaking his head, picked up their glasses and headed to the bar.  Maybe a fresh round of drinks would get things back on track. Obviously, he had struck a nerve, but couldn’t for the life of him figure out what the big issue was.

Arriving at the counter, he gave a little wave to catch the eye of the young bartender, who was nearly finished serving another customer, and got a curt ‘in a minute’ nod in return. While waiting for his turn, he swiveled from side to side to check if Reina was returning from the toilet, and to clock the rest of the clientele.  This time, far from ignoring his presence, several sets of eyes were firmly fixed on him, and one or two faces even bore expressions of outright animosity.  What the …?  James did not like the feel of this one bit.  At that moment, the bartender rocked up, and before James could get a word out, leaned toward him and spoke low and hard,

“I think you need to leave, man”

Shocked and now more than a little uneasy, James countered,

“What’re you talking about, mate. I haven’t done anything”

The bartender shook his head,

“That girl you’re with.  She’s not yours, she’s not for you”

James let out a nervous laugh,

“I’m not with her, mate.  We’ve only just met.  What’s the big problem?”

The bartender leaned even closer and hissed,

“Listen!  I’m trying to do you a favor. Everyone in here knows her. She’s not what you think.” 

And now in a raised voice,

“Seriously, you just need to go!!”

At that moment, two things happened almost at once. The door to the bar flew open, ricocheting off the faux brick wall with a resounding bang and a shattering of glass. And Reina, who had by now reappeared, let out a shriek of near terror and stood shaking with both hands clamped to her mouth.  Seconds later, a very large, very hard looking Japanese guy with a less than genial look about him sauntered through the opening. Head swiveling from side to side, he finally settled his gaze on James. Fixing him with a stare exuding pure menace.

The bartender stepped back and through gritted teeth exclaimed,

“Majikayo, Kenji daze” – “Oh shit, here comes Kenji”.

James cautiously opened one sleep-encrusted eye, and winced as the harsh morning sunlight blasted the side of his face that wasn’t glued to the pillow. Too far from the window and, therefore, too far from being able to close the curtains, he slowly dragged the thin bed sheet covering him up and over his head to at least partially block the fearsome rays attacking his body. Reluctant to do anything that might increase the industrial scale pounding currently ongoing inside his skull, he lay motionless and attempted to organize his thoughts. Some things became immediately clear: he was not in the room he had been sharing with the guitar playing Italian traveler at the hostel in Shinsaibashi; he was still fully-dressed and in the same clothes as, he presumed, yesterday; and apart from the splitting headache and glass paper raw throat, his upper-right arm hurt like a bastard. Jesus Christ!  What the hell had he done? And where the f**k was he?

Taking several deep and painful breaths, he took the plunge and cast the flimsy sheet off. Swinging his legs out and to one side, he managed to raise himself into a sitting position, and from there, take stock of his situation. Looking around, he could immediately see he was in some sort of low-end hotel room. The place stunk of stale cigarettes, with tired looking furnishings and fittings, and a carpet worn extra thin by heaven knew what kinds of nefarious activity over the years. With enormous effort, he forced himself to stand, and on tremulous legs, shuffled warily the few feet to the combined unit toilet and shower cubicle. Once inside, he lowered himself onto the toilet seat, and half turned to check his reflection in the mirror on the wall. “Oh, my god” he whimpered to himself, “What did you do, James?”  For the face that stared back at him was not at all a pretty sight. Not the face of an average looking, 24-year-old at all. He looked like, as his mum would say, death warmed up. Softly shaking his head, his eyes started to brim with tears, which then slithered ungraciously down his cheeks. After a few moments of deserved self-pity, he moved to brush away the moisture from his cheeks and set to checking what else was amiss. Carefully running his hands over his upper body, he was relieved to find no obvious injuries, and just the usual aches and soreness that followed an extremely mad night out. But there was still that persistent burning sensation in his right arm.

Moving at a centenarian’s pace, he took an inordinate amount of time to remove first his jacket, and then his shirt, letting both fall to the floor, before turning his attention to his upper arm, and the oversized plaster that now sat there, harboring a secret under its plastic surface. Now, he couldn’t remember that being there yesterday. Taking measurable care, he started to peel back the lower edge of the thing, cursing under his breath at both the pain of the process, and the reality of what was being slowly revealed. When the operation was complete and the bloody gauze discarded into the washbasin, James stared open-mouthed at what lay beneath. A tattoo. A freakin’ tattoo! That had DEFINITELY not been there yesterday! Chinese characters he couldn’t read and a number:

剣児 12

Now this was starting to get more than just a little bit scary.

Faced with this new, very much unwanted, development, he was struggling to get a grip.  “Think, think, think, James” he urged himself, while frantically, searching through his pockets; jeans, shirt and jacket for possessions, clues, anything. Nothing. Right. Maybe he had been mugged?  Shuffling with a little more urgency this time, he moved back into the sleeping area to conduct a further search. Shit!  No rucksack. OK.  More than maybe mugged. Mugged by a tattoo artist? This was crazy. Seconds away from simply exploding in panic and fleeing somewhere, anywhere at all, he happened to glance down. And there was his phone.  On the small dressing table next to the bed. Just the phone and nothing else. The digital clock next to it read 11.49. Finally, something familiar. A lifeline out of this insanity. Then the phone buzzed. James pounced on it, half picking, half juggling it up. Scanning the screen quickly, he tapped on an incoming LINE message that read:

Come to the bar NOW. Right NOW. ONLY YOU!! (serious face)

James stood on the top step looking down at the door to the bar. He was finding it hard to believe he had first entered this place just short of 24 hours earlier. The fact that he had been summoned back here now, and with absolutely no memory of leaving, or indeed what had transpired since he had first entered, was alarming to say the least. But he knew he had to walk down those stairs and confront whatever was waiting for him within. He simply had no choice in the matter.

Pushing open the old wooden entrance door, with its peeling paint work and square of cardboard replacement for a glass panel, he stepped nervously across the threshold. As soon as the first waft of a familiar musty nicotine and beer infused odor hit his nostrils, a flood of memories rushed screaming into his brain. That smell had been the prelude to this nightmare. After scouring the place for signs of life for a few moments, he finally settled on the three figures clustered around the end of the counter furthest from the door. Unless they were hiding, there didn’t appear to be anyone else around. Walking slowly towards them, he shot wary glances from left to right, still not sure of what he was getting himself into. As he neared the trio at the bar, and they came more clearly into focus, recognition started to bite like a mangy dog. The beautiful girl. The cocky bartender. And an old guy he had no recollection of at all. Both the girl and the older man averted their eyes when he drew close enough to speak. Neither, seemingly, having the courage to engage with him. It was the bartender who spoke first,

“You came then” he sneered, stating the obvious.

“Didn’t really have much choice, did I?” James responded, looking the young guy up and down.

“That’s true” the bartender said, “No choice at all.”

“So, would somebody like to tell me what the f**k is going on” James stated flatly, and then more angrily “Because somebody has really taken the piss here, and I want to know who it was, and why. Understand?”

“Fair enough” the girl spoke for the first time, “Do you want a drink?”

“Do I want a drink?” James spluttered, moving forward to confront her directly. Then shouting in her face “No, I don’t want a bloody drink, darlin’. I want all my stuff and a bleedin’ explanation. That’s what I want.” Slamming a fist down heavily on the top of the bar, rattling some empty glasses and an ashtray. The girl simply shrugged in response and nodded to her left, where James’s rucksack and holdall containing all his other belongings sat on the manky carpet.

“There’s your stuff” she said “Number 5 will fill you in on the rest.”

And with that she brushed past him and wandered off to a table on the other side of the room.

Turning his attention back to the bartender, he pointed an accusing finger at the young guy’s chest,

“Are you number 5 then, mate?” he said. “Are you the dickhead that’s caused me all this grief?”

“My name’s Yuya” the young Japanese hollered over James’s shoulder at the girl, “Not number f*****g 5.”

“Whatever” the girl mumbled as she sat casually swiping a thumb across the screen of her phone.

Exasperated, James’s voice took on a more pleading tone,

“Look, I really don’t care who is number whatever, OK. But can somebody please explain all this to me. I’m going out of my mind, here.” Then rolling up his sleeve to reveal the tattoo on his right arm, “And what does this mean? Who did this to me?”

Yuya smirked in reply, and pulling up the right short sleeve of his own tee shirt, presented his arm to James. There, almost identical in size, was the exact same tattoo so recently applied to James, but bearing a different number to the right of it:

剣児 5

“Number 5” whispered James. “Then that makes me number 12, right?”

Yuya nodded. “Sorry, man, but that’s pretty much it.” Then pointing past him to Reina, he said, “and meet number 8” and then jerking a thumb in the direction of the yet-to-speak old man to his left, “and this is number 2.”

“What does the kanji mean?” exclaimed James, “What’s that about?”

“That kanji is the name of the guy who owns this place, dude.” Yuya said softly with a slow shake of his head, “Those kanji read Kenji. But he doesn’t just own this bar – he owns you too, now. He owns us all, man.”

“What the f**k do you mean, he OWNS me!” James exploded. “How can he OWN me!”

So Yuya explained.

Kenji was a psychopath. Pure and simple. A very rich, very well-connected psychopath. And many a poor wretch who made the mistake of entering his bar, also unknowingly entered his sick, depraved world. He, Yuya, for example, had simply answered an ad for bartenders, where the hourly rate was way above the norm. As a struggling student, he desperately needed the money for tuition, and to help feed his new and building drug habit. Somehow, Kenji had found out all about his situation, and intervened. Not to help him, but to reinforce his addiction. To make him totally and utterly dependent to the point he had nowhere or no one else to turn to. He built a portfolio of Yuya’s life in minute detail, tracking down his family members and friends, digging into every aspect of his young life, probing for every weakness. And Yuya had many. He quickly amassed a mountain of information, including video, photos and signed confessions taken under extreme circumstances. And to complete the whole, mad and irrational project, the demented, sick bastard had branded him, like a farm animal, a living, breathing possession. He had broken him, and then he had owned him. But he wasn’t alone, of course.

Reina, number 8, was a runaway. Desperate to escape physical and sexual abuse at the hands of her step-father, she had fled to Osaka from Tottori. Where she had swum directly into Kenji’s net. She didn’t stand a chance. Kenji had spent a great deal of time and money grooming the young, impressionable and broken girl, until she felt she could no longer survive without him. As for the old guy, number two, he owned the rundown business hotel where James had woken up that morning. A solitary man with few friends and no family, he had been easy prey for Kenji and his associates, and after he had opened up to his new friend about his awful predilections following a heavy drinking session in the bar, and received an empathetic ear, his hard drive full of child pornography he thought he had made a well-kept secret, was no longer such. Now his hotel was home to all of Kenji’s possessions. Somewhere he could coral them. Keep a close eye on them. Under complete surveillance. No one paid rent, and all their needs were catered for. But no one could leave. Not unless Kenji decided otherwise. If they dared to attempt it, the least of their worries would be their secrets being exposed to the world. If Kenji was in the wrong mood – their disappearance may be made permanent.

James was speechless. He realized now he was now number 12 in the collection, and it was abundantly clear he was in a very tight spot. But wait a minute. What could Kenji possibly have on him? He’d only been in town for two weeks. He didn’t really know anyone and had done nothing remotely illegal. He would just simply blow this joint and take off. Just a shit tattoo as a bad reminder. He threw a pitying look Yuya’s way and wagging a no-no finger, stooped down to pick up his belongings. The bartender let out an audible sigh,

“Not that easy, dude” he said.

Standing with a bag in each hand, James laughed nervously,

“What are you talkin’ about, mate” he said, “I’m out of here. This Kenji’s got absolutely nothing on me. You losers may have to put up with this crazy shit, but not me. And I’ll tell you something else. Next stop is the cop shop to fill them in on this freak show going on ‘ere.”

In reply, Yuya reached behind him for the i-pad that was resting on the counter. Swiping the screen to bring up a file, he swung it round so that James could see,

“You don’t remember anything about last night, do you, dude. Kenji coming crashing in here. Number 3 and number 7 holding you down. Kenji pouring that shit into you? No, you don’t remember a thing.”

And then pushing the pad forward under James’s nose,

“This jog your memory?”

James look down at the screen and the terrible images that had appeared on it, and immediately started to gag. WTF? How on earth had they managed to get him to do that. Who were these people with him? It was unbelievable. Shaking his head in denial, he felt his body start to heave and began sobbing uncontrollably. Yuya took him by the shoulders, guided him to a chair and sat him down. Reina moved over to sit next to him, placing a hand on his arm and slowly bringing her head to rest on his shoulder. James succumbed to the raw emotions sweeping his body and slumped down in abject defeat.

“Oh yeah” added Yuya, “he’s got your passport, too, man. You ain’t going nowhere”

James left his room at the hotel and trudged down the stairs to the tiny lobby area. Number 2 was sat behind the reception desk as usual, staring out the grimy window of the front entrance to the narrow street beyond. James didn’t even bother to acknowledge the faint wave the old pervert aimed in his direction, and yanking open the door stepped outside. As he made his way through the now familiar labyrinth of alleyways that crisscrossed the district, with its hole-in-the-wall ramen stands, abandoned adult video shops and brightly-lit convenience stores, his mind was on the evening ahead. Another night behind the bar at Kenji’s. Another night of serving the lowest of the low, both the friends and property of a madman. Reaching the top of the steps to the bar at street level in just under 10 minutes, he paused before descending. Strange noises were emanating from the place. None of which he had heard before. The sounds of laughter, singing and the unmistakable strumming of a slightly out-of-tune guitar.  Hopping down the steps two at a time, he thrust open the door to the bar and into a most unusual scene. Sat at the very same table he himself had occupied that fateful night not so long ago, were several of the “numbers”, including Reina 8, and a long-haired, bearded young troubadour who was joyfully murdering an Ed Sheeran song, much to the delight of his little throng of admirers. James recognized him right away. Matteo. The fun-loving Italian traveler, his roommate from the hostel when he’d first arrived.

Noticing his audience’s attention had been diverted, Matteo immediately stopped playing and turned to see what or who had stolen his thunder. On seeing James, he quickly lay the guitar to rest on the chair next to him and beaming, jumped to his feet to greet his friend,

“James” he playfully admonished in his heavily accented English, “Where you been, brother. I am very worried about you. You just disappear.”

James looked forlorn.

“How did you find me, Matteo?” he asked quietly. “How did you find this place?”

“What? Don’t be silly, Jamey” Matteo laughed, “You send me message, you ask me to come. Look”

And then, after a little digging in the front pockets of his jeans, Matteo retrieved a scrap of paper with directions to the bar on it and a short fateful script:

Hey Matteo, come and join the club! James

“No, no, no” James started jabbering at him, “No, I didn’t send this, mate. You gotta go. You gotta go now. You have no idea what you’ve walked into”

“What you talking about, Jamey” Matteo spluttered, “I just get here. What is wrong with you?”

“JUST GET OUT!” screamed James in the face of the by now hopelessly bewildered Italian, pushing him hard in the chest.

Then, just as a visibly upset Matteo was about to grab his stuff and take off, the sound of the main door to the bar being forcefully opened brought the room to an eerie silence.

“Too late, man” came the voice of number 5 from behind the bar,

“Here comes Kenji”

**************

For more fiction by Kevin, please see this story.

Featured writing

Western writers overview

Western Writers in/on Kyoto
[A highly subjective and selective account…]
By Ken Rodgers

Portuguese trade envoys outside Nijo-jo, bearing gifts around 1624, on a rakuchuu-rakugai-zu folding screen. Their travel blogs do not seem to have survived.

The first Europeans to set foot in Kyoto, in 1551, were the missionaries Francis Xavier and Juan Fernandez, seeking selfies with the Emperor Go-Nara, during the later throes of the Sengoku period of warring states. Not a good time in the old capital. Xavier described the devastated city as “a lair of wolves and foxes,” and after only 11 days, headed back to civilization: Hirado in Kyushu.

Kyoto was rebuilt, of course, and regained its attractiveness. In the late 1500s, another Jesuit, Luis Frois wrote about a Kyoto garden, describing its “delightful and strange trees … all of which were cultivated artificially, so that some are shaped like bells, others like towers, others like domes.”

By 1619, the political climate had changed again. William Adams’ associate Richard Cocks, of the British East India Company, recorded observing an execution of 55 Christians in Miyako (Kyoto). Soon, Kyoto was essentially a forbidden city.

A strangely truncated Sanjusangendo and its Toshiya archery competiton, as depicted in Kaempfer’s History of Japan

While the Tokugawa sakoku policy from the 1630s kept Kyoto almost entirely tourist-free for over 200 years, somehow the German naturalist & physician Englebert Kaempfer managed to snag an Airbnb close by Sanjo-keihan at the end of the 1600s. His writings on his two-year stay in Japan (published posthumously in 1727) became the authoritative text on all things Nihon for over 100 years, under the marvelously memorable title of “The History of Japan, giving an Account of the ancient and present State and Government of that Empire; of Its Temples, Palaces, Castles and other Buildings; of Its Metals, Minerals, Trees, Plants, Animals, Birds and Fishes; of The Chronology and Succession of the Emperors, Ecclesiastical and Secular; of The Original Descent, Religions, Customs, and Manufactures of the Natives, and of their Trade and Commerce with the Dutch and Chinese. Together with a Description of the Kingdom of Siam.”

Kobe and Osaka were not opened to foreigners until 1863, while Kyoto remained off limits for decades more. The indefatigable Victorian-era British travel-writer Isabella Bird visited Kyoto (with special authorization) in the late 1870s, and described the city’s delights as follows, in Vol. II of Unbeaten Tracks in Japan:

“With its schools, hospitals, lunatic asylum, prisons, dispensaries, alms-houses, fountains, public parks and gardens, exquisitely beautiful cemeteries, and streets of almost painful cleanliness, Kiyoto is the best-arranged and best-managed city in Japan.”

Lafcadio Hearn, here in 1895 for the Great Exposition (and the very first Jidai Matsuri), reported on it for the Atlantic Monthly, (a fascinating, glowing account now downloadable as A Trip to Kyoto):    

“I returned by another way, through a quarter which I had never seen before, – all temples. A district of great spaces, – vast and beautiful and hushed as by enchantment. No dwellings or shops. Pale yellow walls only, sloping back from the roadway on both sides, like fortress walls, but coped with a coping or rooflet of blue tiles; and above these yellow sloping walls (pierced with elfish gates at long, long intervals), great soft hilly masses of foliage – cedar and pine and bamboo – with superbly curved roofs sweeping up through them. Each vista of those silent streets of temples, bathed in the gold of the autumn afternoon, gave me just such a thrill of pleasure as one feels on finding in some poem the perfect utterance of a thought one has tried for years in vain to express.”

Good point. Kyoto somehow speaks to everyone in their own language. As a more recent example, Gary Snyder, in the 1950s, found aspects of his beloved Pacific North-West here, in this poem from Riprap (1959):

Higashi Hongwanji
       Shinshu temple

 In a quiet dusty corner
        on the north porch 
 Some farmers eating lunch on the steps, 
 Up high behind a beam: a small
        carved wood panel 
 Of leaves, twisting tree trunk, 
 Ivy, and a sleek fine-haired Doe.
        a six-point Buck in front 
 Head crooked back, watching her. 
 The great tile roof sweeps up 
 & floats a grey shale 
 Mountain over the town.

Here’s the same landmark, through the eyes of Edith Shiffert, in Kyoto Dwelling (1989). She came to Kyoto in 1963, and remained here until her death at the age of 101, in 2017. [See Charles Roche’s tribute to her at The Flame, here.]

Higashihonganji Pilgrims 

In winter sunshine hundreds of pilgrims  
come to bow at an altar then  
return to their countryside.   

Elderly, bent, short, 
in dark kimono and white tabi, 
they spread over the graveled yard. 
The all-pervading and ever-enduring 
compassion of Amida 
gives to them hope. 

Having left their work, 
going to go back for more work, 
gnarled hands clutch newly purchased rosaries, 
reach out to light candles and offer incense. 
The dream has at last come true, 
in the ancient capital 
paying homage at the supreme temple.   

The high and outspread eaves of the main building 
reach down toward them like mercy. 
Crowds of pigeons circle over them.  
Rainbow curtains at the gate, 
purple curtains on porches, 
blowing so they touch some of the faces.

Edith’s meditative verse is aptly complemented by John Einarsen’s photography in The Forest Within the Gate (2014). Harold Stewart’s By the Old Walls of Kyoto (1981) should also be remembered, as a measured response to all that Kyoto represents, while Gouverneur Mousher’s Kyoto, a Contemplative Guide (1964) probably remains one of the best introductory texts (from back in the day when Kyoto streetcar fares were 13 yen). John Dougill’s Kyoto: A Cultural History (2006) is another, more recent, classic distillation of this multi-layered city. Judith Clancy’s Exploring Kyoto: On Foot in the Ancient Capital (1997) is another must-read.

Many other writers have engaged with the mystique of Kyoto, all in their own distinctive ways. Pico Iyer’s local classic, The Lady and the Monk (1988) is half memoir, half romance. Recently posted on the WIK website, a 1957 poem by John Berryman grapples with the meaning of Ryoan-ji. Italo Calvino, the seer of Invisible Cities, also recounts a visit to Ryoan-ji, in Mr. Palomar (1983):

“…he sits on the steps, observes the rocks one by one, follows the undulations of the white sand, allows the undefinable harmony that links the elements of the picture gradually to pervade him.

Or, rather, he tries to imagine all these things as they would be felt by someone who could concentrate on looking at the Zen garden in solitude and silence. Because—we had forgotten to say—Mr. Palomar is crammed on the platform in the midst of hundreds of visitors, who jostle him on every side; camera lenses and movie cameras force their way past the elbows, knees, ears of the crowd, to frame the rocks and the sand from every angle, illuminated by natural light or by flashbulbs. Swarms of feet in wool socks step over him (shoes, as always in Japan, are left at the entrance); numerous offspring are thrust to the front row by pedagogical parents; clumps of uniformed students shove one another, eager only to conclude as quickly as possible this school outing to the famous monument; earnest visitors nodding their heads rhythmically check and make sure that everything written in the guidebook corresponds to reality and that everything seen in reality is also mentioned in the guide.”

In The Art of Setting Stones (2002), Marc Peter Keane shares insightful and very personal essays on the nature of Kyoto gardens. Other valuable additions include Juliet Winters Carpenter’s Seeing Kyoto (2012), Diane Durston’s Old Kyoto: A Guide to Traditional Shops, Restaurants and Inns (updated 2013), and Alex Kerr and Kathy Arlyn Sokol’s Another Kyoto (2016).

The eclectic Pan-Asian Kyoto Journal aims to remain a go-to source for diversely Kyoto-related articles. And in recent years the wide-ranging Writers in Kyoto annual anthologies have brought together a rich variety of prose and poetry, attesting to the ever-ongoing exploration of this fabled city’s confluence of rivers, traditions and minds…

**************

Links for pictures

Rakuchuu-rakugai-zu at Google Arts & Culture

Kaempfer illustration (PDF)

Writers in focus

Robert Yellin poems

Robert, in hat, recites the poems of his youth at the Kyoto Journal event held on Feb 8 at the Terminal to coincide with an exhibition of foreign artists.

1980s Poems

I deal in demons
Ya know what I mean?
I see them in the daylight hours
In banks, realtors outlets,
Kiosks and inflatable houseboats.

Pan and Prometheus know about
The coming rain

Another uneventful day is passing
The man across the street white
In his cotton shirt
Scratches his balls and tugs at the restlessness
And his balding head.

Incense like backwards rain
In my hibachi
My thoughts like water sinking in sand
Silent
This day will pass
This day will never return

A man is trimming his hedge
Another waits
For the postman.
And lights up a stick full of bought images and ideals
He does not think
He is slowly dying

This day brings promises of rain
This day is indeed mysterious
This day that we never think about
Nameless
Dateless
November misty night
Steam and mumbles from the hibachi
Fill my room

I stare out at this paper world
And earth ware of Bizen
Filled with the golden harvest
This liquid swirl
Education and feet of clay
Propaganda defeats this day

This day of sad cold rain
It’s been said that one day
We can all live in a green house
Maybe then we can get past the
Sprouting stage
It’s time
Time to reach out to the centuries
The centuries of myths, appliances
And ocean dumping grounds

Something pulled me
Into the antique dealer again today
The feel of time
A four-hundred year old cobweb
A sake cup
And written scroll

(this and following pictures courtesy Robert Yellin)

Four hundred years ago in Imbe
Bizen earth sacrificed itself
In the fire of Life
So that we could see our reflections
In its shape
All truths unfold
All concepts
All symbols
All ideologies
Become useless
In the presence
Of her subtle beauty
And Truth
In the hills of the potters valley
It awaits us
What we brethren seek
The blessings of nature
In all her abandoned glory

I sit down in Takekura
After a day of trains and myths
And the resigned public
Watching crooked politicians
Resign
Your ego
Let it be trampled
By an oncoming hikari
Float back down
The earth of Mashiko
Brings me back to this room
This room of all truths
Where all illusions tumble
And are shaped into clay
The only truth
Is that truth that has never been printed
Nor spoken

Wrung out through the mind maze of games
We create
To anchor our lives

The Emperor’ funeral three days before
The rain stopped
Today late February
In the year of snake
Oil-salesman
Who lead the nation
In questionable paths
Went down to Abe’s hut
The art of living amongst clay walls
Bamboo grove
Scattered pots
The bitterness of a spring flower
Served on a fire-marked dish
Shigaraki eclipses time
The days of the storyteller are gone
People only repeat media finds
And never take the time
To think about rain forests
Corporate control
This disposable life

Drinking cha and eating sembei on the veranda

« Older posts Newer posts »

© 2024 Writers In Kyoto

Based on a theme by Anders NorenUp ↑