A Snowy Night

A small zappai set based on a simple dog walk on tonight's snowy evening.
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Bit by bit, snow falls
greeting my lovely city
smiling at us two.

Breath is visible.
Painful cold is minimal.
I'm irritable.

Playing in the snow
is a faint memory. Now,
an outing is work.

A dog owner's task.
Walking in the snow is both
a gift and a curse.

Nearby piles of snow
marked now with streaks of yellow
signal- deed is done.

On snow-filled sidewalks,
my dog walked around and limped
from the man-made salt.

I called out, "Yusep!"
On one knee, I grabbed his paw
and wiped the salt off.

With a sudden spring,
my furry dog dashed away
like childlike I would.

I chased my grey dog
around a deserted block.
Man and best friend's race.

We dashed home for warmth
and dryness carrying a
faint scent of wet dog.

We panted. I laughed.
Falling snow continued to smile
proud of her magic.

Snow now takes pride in
snapshots of joy she made for
the once bitter I.
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Blogging at Night

Nights of silence compose the majority of winter. The snow outside dances with gentle breezes. The salt decorates the snowy sidewalks like cinnamon in oatmeal. So many people sit in their rooms facing the cold of winter alone. Many face them with family, friends, and lovers. Tonight, I've done a bit of all.

While I cannot be next to a loved one physically, technology allowed us to recreate a living room. Our united imagination took us to the fireplace of a vacation cabin where we downed cup after cup of hot cocoa and marshmallows. Technology recreated our living room television and the blanket we  huddled under. It recreated the various actions that could take place during our binge session of DC animated movies and cartoons from the 90s. We spent the snowy day together and alone at the same time.

Now while a loved one sleeps, I roam the web. I'm searching for the perfect item to snag my attention and complement my cooled ginger tea. Somewhere on the web lies the key to passing time until exhaustion settles in and I can join my loved one in sleep.

A blog is perfect. Removing everything in this realm and leaping into a world of words is perfect to pass the time. A little bit of writing, a little bit of honest thought is perfect. It all seems perfect until the thought settles in. This mass of words will pile onto each other like the snow. And just as quickly as they come, the words will fade. That is the truth of the web. Time flows into the web and never returns.

A blog seems perfect until analysis settles in. The voice of a paranoid craftsmen whispering, "posting this is a mistake. This is nonsense." The voice of a sappy craftsmen whispers, "think of your beloved's joy when she reads and see you thinking of her while she sleeps." The voice of a neurotic craftsmen whispers, "fault here, fault there. Construction lacks continuity. Product beyond salvation." The voice of a curious craftsmen whispers, "I wonder if true writers struggle this much." A blog seemed perfect until the desire for harmony between technicality and creativity settled in.

A blog regains its perfection as a pastime when I whisper, "at least there is no audience at the moment." Perhaps that is the key to becoming an artist of sorts. Maybe the harmony for technicality and creativity can be found when one creates for an audience as if there is none. When the absence of an audience removes the need to perfect every single portion is when the harmony begins to arise.

A collection of old haikus/senryuus/zappais

Nostalgia takes me back to a lesson in Japanese I had long ago delving into haikus. The excitement I had made every day of traveling to CCNY worth it. I learned plenty.

Think haiku and you'll think the form of five, seven, five. However, so many people are unfamiliar of their incorrect usage of the word haiku. Haikus need more than just the five, seven, five to be haikus. They need a cutting word and a reference to nature to truly be haikus. The poems that use the 5-7-5 without these elements of nature could fall under Senryuus if they are commenting on a state of mankind and use some kind of dark irony. Anything using the 5-7-5 form without under technical guideline falls under Zappai.

This post's focus is
to display some of the things
I've made that are Zappai.

Disclaimer of paranoia: These are mostly quick improvisational items using the 5-7-5 form. If they make sense, hooray. If they don't, don't mind the roughness.
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(Based on a friend)

Merrily strolling mom

Venturing child's promises

Grief turns to relief

(Based on rain)

Falling meteors’

surrounding shockwaves send out

source of life and death

(Based on an old fan)

Dusty, rusty blades

blast polluted man-made air

lulling you to sleep

(An old view of mankind)

"Rotting from within,

temples today are meaningless"

A foreigner's words

(Poking fun at being drunk)

Ripples form in the

puddle that arose from a

mere cup of fine wine

(Questioning poetry's power)

What exactly do

few words, stronger feelings do

for answer seekers?

(A masturbation joke)

Hands are places where

only for a brief moment

Joy defeats Sorrow

(Concerns over the planet)

The Reaper tells Earth

"Either you or your children"

When will she reply?

(Realization of poetry's power)

This sheet of paper

holds a desert trapped within

key words of freedom

(Based on walking basslines)

Taking bluesy strolls,

Their footsteps create music

while tightrope walking

(Loveless writer's fear)

Can words be arrows

when fired by a novice

and his broken bow?

(Life of a lonely gamer)

Four controls, one house

Single player is the norm

for those that own all

(Puzzled and exhausted)

I bit the apple.

From trying to solve riddles

I'm numb from writing

(Another assessment of man)

Down the toilet goes

what's considered to be waste.

Earth's constipated

(Goofy winter snapshot)

"If the cold preserves,

why do coats and gloves exist?"

The frozen dummy

(On haiku improvisation)

Quickly delivered

one after another are

skillful weak punches

(Competition)

Healthy rivalries

Great friends, bitter enemies

Love of competing

(Exercise in speaking out)

If this concerns you

the doors will surely open

Or am I too late?

(Based on sound in Marshak Hall:MR2)

Screech never ceases

eerie sound found in science

Won't you let me be?

(Based on my hand)

Five heads looking up

just one hand lies on the desk

Where's the other one?

(Exercise in a twist)

Happy Birthday is

ecstatically yelled for

the lonely deaf kid

(Thoughts on the afterlife)

Soporific cold

Dream until awakened by

malevolent heat

(On pollution and acid rain)

Dragon blasting ash

that pours down upon fools in

refreshing rain

(Exercise in speaking out for Earth)

Listen all that care

Does nature deserve the pain

while nurturing us?

(A self-realization)

Phrasing is enough

For assessment of one’s mind.

My mind is quite small.

(The anguish of a crush)

Seppuku occurs

when the butterflies' venom

cannot be handled.

(Struggle of sobriety)

Hungry body says,

"feed me the green or suffer."

Hungry body stays.

(Reeferless realization)

Life without the funds.

A peaceful, secluded life

that's loved and hated.

(To my old friends)

Now without rhythm

I write to the ghosts. "Hello,

how's the town doing?"

(Zappais are fun)

I like using this form

composed of five, seven, five

to express my thoughts.

(Poetry's pitfall)

Ask yourself, "why write?

For a greater sense of self?"
Fucking narcissist!

(Lost and unable to find)
"Where do I belong?",
asked the small chameleon
with amnesia.

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A New Start

Long ago, I opened this blog up for a Japanese project. The days were fun. Each character caught my eye. The time I spent working on this blog seemed to fly by guaranteeing me at least B. My Japanese learning days came to a halt several years ago with the last available course in CCNY.

Today, I start anew sticking to my usual language. I may throw in some Japanese in there for fun. I may throw some geeky terms here and there. It's what I do. Even if I am to talk to only one of you, one is enough.

I wonder if old friends will come back to blogger. If we can all reconnect and possibly, start our Japanese studies once again. Probably not.

Focus: To focus this blog into something is a trial. I don't know what focus is. What I do know is honesty. So perhaps I can share everything. Poems, writings, logs, even crappy doodles. And transcriptions of game tunes if I can finish them and let my standards drop a little.

Until next time...