From the series, Japan Poems.
There is a secret heaven,
a cloud-padded nook
for those who stroll the streets,
vintage in their own manner and calling,
parasol doubling as a firmament,
through which rainy day blues
become weathered postcards
of astonishing tenderness
and nostalgia.
From the series, Japan Poems.
Under cloudy skies,
chance encounter between friends–
Small talk warming lives.
From the series, Japan Poems.
Umbrella ghosted
by whoever held it last–
Rain in the forecast.
From the series, Japan Poems.
With people removed
dreams travel great lengths to occupy
the paralleling tracks
of company and solitude.
From the series, Japan Poems.
Dreaming is given
to distances laid over
by intimacy.
From the series, Japan Poems.
Through a gate darkly,
semblance of lives, burning time–
Tokyo nocturne.
From the series, Japan Poems.
Heaven’s bike country
where wheels are always turning
to leaven grounding.
From the series, Japan Poems.
Metaphors underscore
every moment of passage–
For example,
we being guests upon this earth
but briefly, solidly imagined
as entities before dissolving
into blurs, en route to fading,
among the gusty corteges of mass transit.
From the series, Japan Poems.
In a world of blue,
you’ve been through it, haven’t you?
Scraped deep to beauty.
From the series, Japan Poems.
Intimacy bred and cultivated
by narrowest confines
is the progenitor
and best advocate
for imagination’s nubile foreplay
in limitless spaces
dreamed up in real time.
John Biscello 