Posted in Uncategorized

Life Updates and Such

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Posted in Blog/Vlog Announcements, Uncategorized

Launching a Patreon Page! Yay!

Firstly, much love to everyone who stayed on the poetry series with me. It was a labor of love, and I’m glad to receive love for my work in return. It’s just awesome!

And so, it’s been suggested by a few friends here and there to go for a poetry book. Having no funds for such a venture, I decided it is time to get a Patreon page.

I haven’t set up monthly goals yet, but I essentially want to make exclusive content for the Patreon givers such as previews of the book that I won’t show here on the blog.

I also want to get back on the YouTube content making horse, putting up more tourist friendly things on Patreon with more day-to-day vlogs here on the site.

Basically, I have a thousand ideas, I don’t really know what I’m doing, but I’m going for it anyways. I want to do more, like way more, but without a little support here and there I just can’t do it.

So if you’d like to support my poetry or my blogs or vlogs, head on over to the Patreon page. I’d appreciate even a dollar or two! It’s taking my work one step closer to getting out there!

Love you all, thank you!

Posted in Poetry

To Me, From Now

Many friends speak of regrets

and deep hate for their teen selves.

Too much trouble,

too much anger,

or too arrogant for

adult supervision.

Then there is you,

a girl stuck in books

chasing dragons,

fighting warlocks,

saving the world,

and studying in between

all the novels hoarded

like gold.

Be good, you think, always good,

and no one will leave.

Not again, anyway.

Yet still be ready,

for they might still

at any moment decide

you’re just not good enough

to stay and love.

Oh, if I could tell you…

Don’t beat yourself into

a suicidal crunch.

Let in your friends

so they will help you.

Don’t carry this hidden burden

of singular responsible child.

Let your mother see the letters

you stashed away on bad days.

All these things, but also more.

I would tell you the truth

that you’re ill prepared to hear:

You are worthy

of the love you seek

and the adventure

you need.

Someday, you’ll seek it out

beyond these green hills

and across the sea

you’ll find it all there

waiting.

Keep going, brave little girl,

you’re almost there.

Posted in Poetry, Travels in Japan

A Future Made

I knew psychics couldn’t be trusted when

a woman read some cards upon a cloth,

“You will be married!

Three children and a man,

what a happy home!”

And I promptly replied,

“Oh? That’s all?”

Her eyes widened in shock

that I would dare

to want more.

 

“When will you get married?”

asked my cousins when

I told them of plans

to move across the globe

and teach children

in a foreign land.

“Not a priority.”

The sheer dismay displayed

as if I’d chosen to

opt out of  happiness

forever.

 

“Do you have a boyfriend?”

asks a clueless salaryman

as I walk with my travel bag

to Terminal 1 at Narita

to catch a fight.

“You’ll never know,”

I tell him before

I head off to

Sapporo.

 

“Do you think you’ll marry a Japanese man?”

asks a student in class

with well done intonation.

I laugh at the sudden query

caught off guard in a lesson

on Japanese matsuri and

festival food.

“I have no idea.”

I say in truth for my next plan

involves a weekend away

in South Korea

with old friends and lots

of beach, sun,

and fun.

 

“What are your dreams for the future?”

she asks me with a smile.

My heart beats loud

in my ears.

“I want to be a writer,

and I want to travel the world,”

and I want to do it

with you

but no, don’t say it.

“Sounds like you’ve got it made!”

Yes, but maybe, or no,

who knows?

 

But better a future made

than a planned path

meant to serve

some mystery man.

Life demands action

so be true to thy ambition

and not some archaic

expectations.

 

 

 

 

Posted in Poetry, Uncategorized

Break, Broke, Broken

I go through a class with my tongue sliding on

all the textbook words knowing I

will stumble over some

syllable or two

because it takes

all my energy

just to

stand.

The next day I call in with a cold for a cold

is easier to explain than some

twisted up version of a

messy thing I call

my own

soul

is

breaking.

The weight on my chest pushes heavier

into my rib cage to steal away

all the breath I need

to cry, to form tears,

to speak,

to get

help.

There are stories told at meetings.

An ALT went home because

someone found out

about the therapist

and no B.O.E

wants to keep

broken

merchandise.

And so I contain within the apartment walls

these festering abysmal thoughts

praying that tomorrow this

so-called cold

will just

leave me

be.

Two days later, I return to school

with a very big smile

so no one will guess

that I am still

carrying this

sickness

crushing

my will

to

just

stay

alive.

 

 

Posted in Poetry, Uncategorized

Enter the Underground

Deck your body in tight black

with high black boots to match,

but throw on crimson eyeliner

and ruby paint on lips

so your lover can find you

on the dim lit dancefloor.

Watch green lasers slice through

the air around the stage.

What a lovely neon halo

around the fallen angels

singing on the stage.

The one drenched in blood

pulls out a heart to eat

for what is art if not

your heart exposed.

A woman in a silken robe

lets a man write kanji

on her skin

from head to toe.

She smiles at the crowd

as she turns to display

the seal against evil

along her spine.

We in the darkness cheer

as the man puts another line

on her inner thigh

set to the shamisen

and fast taiko beats.

Next comes the rock stars

decked in leather.

The one with the operatic chords

and the other with screaming energy

give the fans a taste

of Gothic beauty with a hint

of wrath.

At the end of the show,

your performing friend

comes to hug you.

“Did you enjoy the show?”

Posted in Poetry

Learned Differences

“Four seasons! We have four seasons.”

Summer, spring, fall, and winter.

“Should I tell them?” the American teacher

ponders

as she asks the class

to mimic the lines

again, again, and again.

“Japan is special!”

the Japanese teacher proclaims,

“Other countries don’t have four seasons!”

The American teacher shares a look

with the Chinese exchange student.

He shakes his head.

Maybe next year,

the American teacher decides.

Best not to let them think

that all textbooks have

oh, so many lies.