Images

 

I feel the sun scorch my skin

as I see summer through

the mirage on the street.

Cicadas screech from trees,

as I fan my sweaty face

to release the heat.

Mosquitos buzz around

to prey on my sticky skin,

waking me up from hypnosis.

Suddenly,

a shadow swallows me,

blindfolding a new born day.

The sound of whirring approaches,

chasing away the people

screaming and running like ants.

I look up to find

a swarm of metallic giants.

The familiar whistling

of Hanabi that fills the summer sky,

shooting through the darkness

with a tail of light.

The fire flower blooms above us.

This time, the whistling

shoots down on us, 

deafening my ears,

pressing me into the ground

of dust and broken pieces.  

The siren yells

at the top of its lung

urging us to run

for our lives. 

Everything

in monochrome -

I am inside of the house

with the roof about to fall down.

I see collapsed houses

with the people trapped in

others’ cross-fire.

From the cartoon

Barefoot Gen appears

in school uniform and geta.

I am seven,

in my school library,

picking up a think book

with the blood orange cover.

Browsing manga inside,

I carry it home in my bag

with a zoo print. 

As I am further into pages,

I see the planes  

and the fire eating people.

He takes me back to

the H-island, haunting me

with images of an big apple

suspended in the air

and a child and a mother

hand in hand,

dragging their burnt skin

in search of water.

Graveyard ofFireflies –

the little girl

with her cropped hair,

carrying a tin of candy drops

while her mother lies in a shelter,

wrapped like a mummy.

I stare at the bag

that carried the book home.

The images invade my head.

My mind is now

a battle field. 

I throw away the bag

in the hope of exorcising

my curse.

With the word war,

my mind sees

those images

and my hands shake.

The mushroom cloud flashes

the image of the dome

with its bone exposed.

I staple the pages

of textbooks, pasting

paper over the images.

But every summer,

they come back to me

with screeching cicadas

and buzzing mosquitos,

waking me up from hypnosis.

On certain days,

I look away from the TV

and cover my ears.

I want to be

out of the country.

  

But sometimes

even in my sleep,

I am taken back

into the field,

in black and white,

alone.

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Mine Remains

pill bug

When I sense danger, 

I just roll up into a ball.

I stay curled up until 

it passes and carefully

I stretch out and crawl on

although I wish I were invisible. 

We were in my room when

his phone rang.

‘It's her.'

He sat beside the window and said,

‘Don’t make a sound.

If she found out that I’m with you,

she’d kill me.’

I was left at the corner,

holding onto my knees tightly

with my eyes fixed on the scars

while he answered to her gently,

begging her not to hang up.

My warm breath on my knees,

too loud to hear him whisper

and surrender to her.

When I sense danger, 

all I do is to hide like

a turtle retreating to its shell.

Under the shield,

I patiently wait for it to pass,

while being poked

and kicked around.

I am still here

although I wish I were invisible. 

I popped my head up to see

whether he would notice me

but my subtle rustle made him

give me his piercing hawk eyes

and his index finger brandished

in front of his mouth,

barring my sound of being.

I was silenced in my room

like when a father scolds his child.

I appear like a stone

even when I’m not that tough,

so that I won't show my weakness 

and squirm like a baby,

although I wish I were invisible. 

My lighthouse

When my ship is lost
in the stormy sea,
You shine a light to show
how far I have come and
to guide me to the shore.
You stand on guard, watching
waves rock my ship. You cringe
at the sight but you know my ship can
take a few blows, believing in its strength
more than I myself can. You shine me a light
in the dark, the tiny dot on the horizon, so that I
don’t feel alone on my journey, so that I feel I can
come home soon. When my ship is wrecked, about to
sink, you will come to rescue me and harbour me until I
can sail again. When I reach the shore, I know you too shine,
flashing your light across the sea, to welcome my return. You shine a light.

Tomomi - the lost samurai

Tomomi -
a painter with a heart of a samurai,
in his geta and hakama with spikey yellow hair
like a saiyajin from Dragon ball Z.

An ambitious samurai -
with smiles and wings,
he painted hopes and dreams.
He spread the fairy dust of Kyoto,
making wishes for us in captions.

The beaming smiles, painted.
A winged girl, envisioned.
He was a dreamer - our cheerleader.

The smiles he painted was
a missing piece of him.
He smiled but his soul had long left him.
His heart got eaten away -
he stopped breathing.

Were the wings to fly away...
from the reality?
Or did you soar above like a samurai?

His hopes and dreams -
now framed relics on the wall.
Those smiles and wings -
the still life of him.

Grand-dad

You were like my dad, granddad.
You were there since I was born
and you were there to guide me
until I learnt to find my own ways.

You were sensei, a PE teacher,
revered one in our community,
and I was the sensei’s granddaughter.
You liked to smoke Mild Seven and
told me smoking was good for health
and I believed you until
I grew up.

I was always with you.
Pushing your bike up the hill, with you on it.
You wanted to train me tobe a star athlete.
Do you remember the jumping horse that
you made with just a table and a cushion?
You were always there to nurture me;
When I injured myself,you’d spit on it and say
‘It’s nothing’, and Ibelieved you.
Look at my scars on myknees and elbows.
What a tomboy you’ve created!

Even though I never came in first in any race or
won any awards to fill your shoes,
I know to you, I was a star.
I’ve got all the pictures of you with your beaming smile.
They were my awards.

Granddad, I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you a white lie
when you asked me to tell you the truth.
I’m sorry the truth disheartened you.
And then, your illness took over you.
You had no strength to fight back.
It was so hard for me to see you lose control
and left paralysed.

The last time I saw you, you were staring at the floor
as if the weight of your shoulders was too heavy
and you could no longer hold up.

The next morning, you passed on.

Granddad, thank you for waiting for me.
I know you are still watching over me.
I will just be the sensei’s granddaughter
but I know you are always smiling down on me.
Thank you, for being there.
I love you, my Grand-dad.