19 Thursday Oct 2017
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(Parting Lovers: Suzuki Harunubo)
Leaving when dew-drenched
invites interpretation.
No one will believe
the reception was icy.
Wild speculation
of others gives brief pleasure.
Some women whisper:
Why has he no change of clothes?
It is obvious he stayed.
And yet, he did not.
Secrets are not secrets long.
Those smart theorists said:
Maybe they sinned in past lives.
Yes, and perhaps they did too.
17 Tuesday Oct 2017
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( Artist: Ogata Gekko; chapter 44 Tale of Genji:
Courtiers under a Pine tree; Japanese Art Open
Database)
A pine’s thousand years
is longer than a man’s life
and resolution
will fluctuate over time.
He reached for her hand.
She knew what that foreshadowed.
Could he be deterred?
Composure is challenging.
Would things work out in the end?
Waiting is so hard.
Enlightenment may be found —
and transformation.
But does self-loathing turn men
into eventual saints?
16 Monday Oct 2017
Katsushika Oi – a poem about
Hokusai’s daughter, herself an artist.
He went to brothels
to conduct his art business.
I rode on his back.
I liked courtesans.
In the tea-houses we laughed,
before their pimps came.
I didn’t need you,
Minimizawa Tomei:
so I divorced you.
I laughed at your work.
To me it looked like spilt oil.
Go back to your shop!
I was third daughter.
When both his wives had left him,
he called to me, Oi!
Loyal to Iitsu:
I changed my name to this, but
some called me Tipsy.
I liked alcohol.
I posed for his shunga
and drank a little.
He drew Strong Oei
Pouring Sake as tribute
to my assistance.
I painted beauties
and ghosted his work, dipping
my brush in moonlight.
When my musicians
played their instruments, their wrists
curved like The Great Wave.
Though struck by lightning,
the old man did not die then.
He rose from the flames
like a phoenix. He
instructed me in shadows,
before light was spent.
At last he bowed out
of his studio; Xian-like,
I disappeared too.
‘Old Man Mad On Art’…
Hokusai – my kind of guy.
I was mad on you.
15 Sunday Oct 2017
Posted in art, Arts, Literature, Poetry, Psychology, Relationships, Writing
(Commons Wikipedia; Geisha by Toyohara Kunichika)
He groped for some words,
in order to detain her
and clutched at her sleeve,
speaking of shameful regrets.
She felt quite ambushed
and couldn’t hide her new state:
her pregnancy, plain
to see, now that it advanced,
only emphasised closure.
She must accept Fate,
even as she was unmasked.
How could she deflect
the vagaries that were thrown
and to whom should she be true?
14 Saturday Oct 2017
Posted in art, Arts, Literature, Music, Nostalgia, Poetry, Psychology, Relationships, Romance, Writing
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(Nakanokimi being serenaded)
To switch affection
to Nakanokimi was
to replace a love
unrequited, for something
less passionate and,
for her, humiliating.
The vesper bells rang.
The prince arrived, unhappy.
She was relenting at last,
in spite of herself.
He was irresistible.
He left for Sanjo,
to make plans to bring her back.
Kaoru wished he’d done the same.
13 Friday Oct 2017
Posted in art, Arts, Literature, Nostalgia, Philosophy, Poetry, Psychology, Relationships, Romance, Writing
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(Lotus Sutra; Metropolitan Museum of Art.
Sugawara Mitsushige, 1257AD. Acc no: 53.7.3)
The Lotus Sutra
was continually read.
Twelve priests in fine voice
took turns to comfort the girl.
In a former life,
perhaps they had been as one.
The dawn gales were cruel,
mimcking the plovers’ cries.
Sins from a previous life
were bringing sorrow.
How could he relinquish her?
She was going to die
and he would not survive her.
He would fulfil her last wish.
12 Thursday Oct 2017
Posted in art, Arts, Literature, Poetry, Relationships, Romance, Social Comment, Writing
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(Mitsuoki: Burke albums)
The Uji fish weirs
gave up a generous catch,
but he could not hook
the one he wanted to land.
His disquietened heart
was like a turbulent sea.
The wind gave a sigh,
echoing his solitude.
He was a boat snared in reeds.
She felt abandoned:
was it only amusement
that he had desired?
Did he really want to wed
a much more well-placed lady?
11 Wednesday Oct 2017
Posted in art, Arts, Literature, Nostalgia, Poetry, Relationships, Writing
(British Museum: Moon-gazing by Yoshitoshi; from The
Tale of Genji)
The Morning-Glory,
fragile and vulnerable:
brevity itself ; evanescent as the dew.
When it starts to wilt,
it cannot turn to the sun.
Why seek more sorrows?
One cannot live forever.
The world is for engagement;
moon-gazing’s futile.
The white petals fade,
but love will not disappear.
Weeping adds to wistfulness,
but turn your eyes to the earth.
09 Monday Oct 2017
Posted in art, Arts, Literature, mythology, Poetry, Politics, Relationships, Writing
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(Metropolitan Museum of Art; Chapter 49: Tale of Genji)
She who was known as
The Wistaria lady
had just one daughter.
Would she succeed where she’d failed?
She would not find out;
all too soon, she passed away.
The motherless girl
had no strong support at court:
the frost-fringed chrysanthemums
a chilly comment
on her sad predicament.
Kaoru was chosen.
The Emperor summoned him
and asked him to pluck a bloom.
08 Sunday Oct 2017
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(Metropolitan Museum Art http://www.metmuseum.org/toah/works-of-art/55.94.1.2;
Momoyama period. Tale of Genji)
…difficult to leave –
the cherry blossoms in bud
and also the mists
from the mountains, in evening.
She had misgivings,
but put on her floral robes
for the city move.
She thought of her dead sister.
Kaoru offered his service.
She was so distressed.
Poignancy of rose plum scent
tinctured memories.
She gifted her combs to nuns
and the carriages arrived.
