Archive for ‘Nick’

July 17, 2018

Highland Hallucinations

by Nick Anthony

Lanky four-legged beasts,
Macabre silhouettes in the morning light,
Cast shadows into the icy valley below,
Prolonging the slumber, if only for a second,
Of the yet-snoozing in their colorful caves.

The creatures slowly creep skyward,
Laboriously climbing to the rocky ridge,
Taking long strides with gaunt forelegs
No thicker than sticks and just as straight.
It seems the giraffe of Broadway gave up the spotlight
To graze the vertical savanna of Japan’s mountains.
Packing our gear, we head out on safari.

read more »

Advertisements
July 16, 2018

Mountain of Apprehension

by Nick Anthony

A somber fear grows deep down
That, ere I near the mountain crown,
Silent tears will slip off eyelash cliffs
And tumble down the deep abyss,
As flames lick and lame my knee
Forcing me to falter and flee
To hours of painful descent in defeat,
Beaten by gravity, compelled to retreat.
Gritting my teeth, head bowed in shame,
Drooped with the burden of bearing the blame.

read more »

July 7, 2018

Shadows

by Nick Anthony

I watch my shadow from noon to dusk,
Ever growing in size and lust,
Making me taller than a redwood tree
And stretching the limit of what I can be.

Until the fading sun falls all the way down
And I am beyond the starry lights of town.
Now lost and one with the black nothingness
I am left to mourn my colossal, black hubris.

I kick a stone as I walk home alone,
Struggling to forget the hope I was shown,
And accept that I am an ego confined by flesh,
A spirit trapped, and a man depressed.

read more »

July 6, 2018

Typhoon 7

by Nick Anthony

Why don’t you come back?
The day is not yet dawning,
The sun has yet to start shining,
And as far as I’m concerned,
There’s no evidence it ever will.
So why not come back to bed?

Why don’t you come back?
Dark grey clouds still cover the sky
Which has been sobbing since yesterday,
And shows no sign of stopping soon.
Mother Nature is under the weather,
So why not call in sick today?

read more »

July 3, 2018

Departures

by Nick Anthony

Goodbyes are fickle,
Too long or not long enough,
But this is my stop.

read more »

June 27, 2018

23:32

by Nick Anthony

Fear.

June 21, 2018

The Oak

by Nick Anthony

In the park there stands an old oak.
I know not how aged it is,
But it was here before I was
And it will remain long after I do not.

Every morning I pass by its thick trunk,
The oak waves its branches, goodbye.
And every night I drunkenly stumble home,
It’s standing still, in silent judgment.

Even when I dash past and miss its farewell
In the rush to catch the last possible train
To $9.50 an hour misery with no future,
I know the stoic oak is standing there,
Gayly laughing at my fleeting and meaningless struggles.

read more »

June 8, 2018

Polar Bears

by Nick Anthony

Can you still remember
That night in early September,
At the “3 cigs” pledge party,
On their decrepit couch?

How I drunkenly stumbled
Across the floor, and mumbled
An inebriated ice-breaker
About a polar bear?

read more »

May 28, 2018

Business Trip

by Nick Anthony

The full moon rises,
Glistening like a fresh silver dollar
As Mother Earth lets off steam
And unbuttons her stifling collar
To feel the breeze of the Sun’s departure.

Eagerly I wait at the window
For my moon to come home,
So I can feel the breeze of his sigh
As he sits on his leathery black throne
And watches me with contentment from on high.

read more »

May 23, 2018

Football Militants

by Nick Anthony

Flags as large as ships’ sails
Waive to and fro in solidarity,
Billowing with pride.

The masses—
Whose fully erect arms
Are only an open palm away
From a formal Nazi salute—
Fill the flowing tapestry of banners
With air warmed by their impassioned voices
As they chant and sing
The acrid cries of war.

read more »

May 16, 2018

Acetaldehyde Dehydrogenase Deficiency

by Nick Anthony

Corralled in the narrow alley
An incalculable mass of humanity
Drunkenly bumbles and stumbles along,
Skipping in hiccuping rhythm,
Belting (and belching) drinking songs,
With the flow of the fleshy river.

read more »

May 14, 2018

Tsuyu: The Rainy Season

by Nick Anthony

As the conductor takes the stage,
The gentle drone of the audience
Turns to apprehensive, expectant silence
Awaiting the impending down stroke.

But before the ictus,
His rushing lift of the baton
Sends forth a gust of wind,
Chilling the air,
While raising the heat of anxiety.

read more »

May 10, 2018

Lost and Found

by Nick Anthony

I am in search of something unknown,
Just beyond my grasp of comprehension.
I stand at the temple doors of Self,
Sealed shut by monks of Sophistry
To conceal their esoteric knowledge and rites,
Of which I desperately long to understand.

read more »

May 9, 2018

Castle by the Sea

by Nick Anthony

The sun was shining on the bay that day,
And in its radiance I thought I saw the way
To my salvation from this, damn lonely, place.
“Liberation” was written on your face.

You left the beach before I learned your name,
And the memory of your face began to fade
Until that day I found you in the Kyoto snow.
When you gave me your hand, I knew I’d never let go.

read more »

May 9, 2018

Break Away

by Nick Anthony

Brown petal falling;
White life now wilted, but free
To Fear and Tremble.

read more »

May 8, 2018

The Sneaker 外岩の詩

by Nick Anthony

Damselflies flutter about
Among the green, broad leafs
Above the mountain stream,
Darting through the river rocks
That make a natural bridge
To the mountain boulder field,
Where stone goliaths lie in wait.

Halfway up The Sneaker,
My love fights to hang on
To nothing more than a pebble:

read more »

May 7, 2018

Ballad of a Stray

by Nick Anthony

“Shoo!” they say to me all day,
As I wander, unwanted and alone,
Down lonely streets, looking for meat,
And a dry place to call my home.

Among the two-legs, I scavenge their dregs
My ribs bruised by their kicks,
While snobby Maltese snub my maladies:
Rabid and half consumed by ticks. 

read more »

April 27, 2018

Grey

by Nick Anthony

Grey file cabinets line beige-green walls,
Stretching from the speckled grey ceiling
To the off-white (grey), tiled floor.

read more »

February 7, 2018

The Cosmos

by Nick Anthony

When I was born, the Cosmos was young.
It’s exponential growth had scarcely begun.
As an infant, I learned to always ask, “Why?”
And the universe expanded with each reply.
Across the island of knowledge I began to crawl
And found not an edge or end, but endless sprawl.

Until, I heard something I knew was absurd.
Even though people called scientists avidly concurred
That the Cosmos was finite and several billion years old,
Who were they to limit what my universe could hold?
When, contrary to the revered “intellectuals’” thinking,
Visceral evidence told me, the Cosmos was shrinking.

read more »

February 6, 2018

Judgement Day

by Nick Anthony

When He came down from the heavens above,
We welcomed Him, arms wide open with love.
We showered our God with adoration
And eagerly sought His revelation.

Prostrated before His magnificence
In an attempted rite of recompense
Under the golden throne of creation,
We prayed for everlasting salvation,

read more »

September 26, 2017

Something’s Off

by Nick Anthony

Outside the temple,
Starving homeless beg for food
While monks drive mopeds.

read more »

September 8, 2017

A Bit Rusty

by Nick Anthony

It’s been a minute
Since writing five-seven-five,
So I wrote this haiku…

read more »

September 1, 2017

In the Park

by Nick Anthony

He wakes up on top of me
Wearing the same tattered clothes,
As dank and filthy as garbage
On a hot and humid afternoon.

He slips away every day before dawn.
Before they come to check on me,
And clean my worn out skin
And clear my space of thrown out dreams
And rusted needles still dripping
With last night’s cheap thrill.

read more »

August 22, 2017

Dragonfly

by Nick Anthony

The rotting corpse of a dragonfly
Hangs over hung-headed commuters
Like a pterodactyl fossil in Fukui,
Forever aloft on calcified wings
For children to look up and wonder:
From what mysterious realm did you come?

But beneath the fossilized dragonfly,
No such wide-eyed adolescents pass by.
This Train Station of Natural History’s only patrons
Are closed-eyed, downtrodden business men:
Too busy catching up on sleep walking
To raise their gaze above the floor.

read more »

August 8, 2017

Invincible

by Nick Anthony

When I was young, you were invincible.
You were like Superman, but better
Because I had never seen evidence
Of a Kryptonite that might harm you.

You seemed to effortlessly
hold back the dangerous flood,
And fearlessly protected me
From ever encroaching reality.

read more »

May 30, 2017

Love

by Nick Anthony

To think, you’re finally here with me!
After years of relentless, flirtatious banter,
Sometimes as playful as puppies, we were:
Other times more serious than a snake bite–
Yet ever fruitless my affections were.

Unattainably distant, you seemed to me.
A hazy speck just beyond the horizon,
Across the ocean of my life.
And I, stranded on my little island,
Couldn’t possibly build a smoke signal
Tall enough to alert your look-out.

read more »

May 29, 2017

Saturday Service at the Church of ING

by Nick Anthony

Dank air, thick and heavy
As gaseous molasses,
lazily ferments in this amber rusted barrel
Of soulful blues and bad tobacco.

Faithful, old drunks slowly sway,
Inebriated from breathing kill-devil air.
They sing wailing gospels of woe
In harmony with Lucille on the record player.

read more »

April 25, 2017

The Kumano Kodo 熊野古道

by Nick Anthony

A peaceful night is ended
By the first light of morning
Before a bright Sun soaring
Over the edge of the ocean.

I open my eyes to a starry tent sky
Shining droplets of condensation
Refracting rainbows of morning dew
Formed from the radiant body heat
Of weary pilgrims happily beat
Upon the Kumano Trail.

read more »