Dark Room

Amok

You blabbing filthy mouth
Cursing and spewing trash
Stirring unwelcome emotions to show
Agitating the frailties of my conviction

Too much useless blah- blah
Careless words that taxes the weary mind
That tests the limits of one’s patience

In my mind, the clock is ticking
In my head, darkness is consuming my being
My heart is raging, my nerve’s edgy and my senses foggy
Dark thoughts flew in circles as morbid pictures start to swirl
In nerve- racking successions

Clinging to the last straws of sanity
I tried hard to block and hold back the dams of self- control from bursting
But the current is too strong and the murky waters rampaging
It is now too late, my friend
My mind has reached the end and the screws finally snapped in my head.

Whapak!

7/10/2004

Stained Nike and Intoxicated Hearts

Here I am grumbling on my breath,
On my feet lies-
Old scraps, plastic-strapped boards and
Chipped shoes, scratching and sketching
Battlegrounds of rattling, pumping,
foot- stumping mean machine on a pile
of red-dirt bricks.

Steamed hydraulic bearings,
Compressed irons that grates on opening,
Rusts that stained the sole of my red Nike Air.
These heaps of garbage of
Yesterday’s bags and fruits
Almost made me puke.

Black Concrete walls,
Trucks madly rushing for the stacked
Of used oils and parts and thrash,
Sighing and braking to a desperate stopped
But still crashed into the garbage bins.

Just like the unrequited love
That plunged and plummeted
Into the colored cardboard world
Of endless dark hole, buoyed by the shouts
Of the perfumed crowd, sprayed and
Splashed to cover the stench of dead
Hearts murdered by the spirits
of the soul-less Cognac-drinking mob.

Resurrection

The very thought of the gift-wrapped present
In front of sixty thousand and one envious black eyes

And ashen faces drooling upon the sight
Made the coachman laugh in sheer delight.

Shy snapped shots of the little box
Smelling like a flower-strewn marmalade on the side

Orphaned kittens and puppies cried like mad
A scene long realized by the headless condemned knight.

The great manor was closed
The empty iron gates were clamped

The coffins slipped from the carriage
And the hopeless spirits sprang into the night

Stunning the drunk undertaker from his
Deep stupor of mindless fright.

Great Expectations

I closed my eyes

My mind drifted into the clouds

And settled on the memory of your reflection

In the haze of winter

This undying lament of a lonely heart

Still blossoms in the snow

With high-treated expectations

For his beloved to return

A winged serpent flew in from the dark

A messenger of death, an omen of the abyss

Weeping in sorrow, crying in pain

My lover's gone, frozen in hell.

The Colors of My Life

Unceasing earthly tones, tinged by rolling sadness

Snowy hued comfort, churning gray discomfort

Likened to wide-eyed dreams of pink somber flight.

Changing eternal shades of the rainbow

White streams of hope of warmth emotion

Appeared subtler than I thought.

Endless processions of mystic colors

Delicate musk of misty pungent odors

That revealed tender moments of happiness.

Silver masses on heavenly blue sky

Green Mangoes bathe in sunlight

Made me feel a little light.

The orange twilight clothed my roller coaster ride.

The pale moon rises from the east

and wiped the crystals off my face...

The Gambler

Mind games
Burning in the heat of the night
Like a quick ride down the river
Shooting the rapids
In white surf and brown murk
The black soot ruined your ironed suit
Armani, Cerruti, Valentino
What the heck?
You played your cards on the deck.
Youre a dead fish, d*ck-sh*t, b*ll-sh*t
Spineless son of a B*tch
Impulsive good-for-nothing garbler
Insane professional gambler
Never knew how to stop when it matters
When the going gets tough
The odds are stacked against restless fools
That played Russian roulette for nothing at all
One day your luck will run out and
You will surely lose my friend,

You better play your cards well or else
Your suit will be splattered with-

Red blood for the

Queen of the lonely Hearts!

Youth

Shooting from the hip, running on empty

A chaotic picture of an aimless wanderer

Unexplained visions, hypnotic emotion

Innocence lost in a trance

Chaotic energy, absorbed discontent

Sighing motivations

Generational gap, different era

Promenaded in tentative moment

Fledgling talent , grounded flier

Crying out to be heard

Mutiny

Camouflaged by the dense foliage

The battle-hardened men

Maneuvered and encircled their prey

A hapless lone white fat edible quarry

Alert and obvious to the impending threat

Tried to hide in the thick forest cover

The rag-tag band danced in a frenzied trance

A strong aroma emanated from the burning pile

Made the heavy grass recoiled in fear

The resting bodies lay in silence

With heads bowed and as if deep in prayer
In awkward reverence to the earths bounty gone sour.

Bill Mitsuru T. Shimizu