Summer in the Ryukyus

This is a poem I composed to express the feeling of summer days in Okinawa.

 Drops of sweat glisten in the sun,
Trickling down flushed-out cheeks.
Like rain-wash in a stony crag,
Moisture flows and humidity peaks.

The stickiness of summer pervades
The body like a painful prick
Cicadae sing their stridulate songs,
Ad nauseam to make one sick.

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Typhoon Season

Since June is the start of Typhoon Season in Okinawa. I thought this poem would be appropriate. I composed this one while sitting through a typhoon in my studio apartment in Okinawa 2003.

The wind rips the Rock like a saw through timber.
Rain forms in broad sheets carried on great gales.
 In Okinawa cyclone blown, racked but limber.
Prepare, batten down hatches and trim the sails. 
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Typhoon Season

The wind rips the Rock like a saw through timber.
Rain forms in broad sheets carried on great gales.
In Okinawa cyclone blown, racked but limber.
Prepare, batten down hatches and trim the sails.

The sun has gone missing, swallowed in gray skies.
Water spouts twirl a devil’s dance in the sea.
Like Habu hissing, debris through air flies.
Typhoon has come, breaking boughs and twisting trees.

Typhoon has come, howling wind won’t let you be.
Typhoon has come with rain so heavy you cannot see.
The storm imprisons the calm and will not set it free.
Has God forsaken thee?

Sweet, peaceful Okinawa caught in the Hellish path
Of Mother Nature’s wrath.
Storm-bound hidden from roaring winds and rain,
Get numb drunk and feel no pain.
Typhoon season is here.
Will it be a bad one this year?
With many fierce storms to fear?
I pray not.

Typhoon Season

The wind rips the Rock like a saw through timber.
Rain forms in broad sheets carried on great gales.
In Okinawa cyclone blown, racked but limber.
Prepare, batten down hatches and trim the sails.

The sun has gone missing, swallowed in gray skies.
Water spouts twirl a devil’s dance in the sea.
Like Habu hissing, debris through air flies.
Typhoon has come, breaking boughs and twisting trees.

Typhoon has come, howling wind won’t let you be.
Typhoon has come with rain so heavy you cannot see.
The storm imprisons the calm and will not set it free.
Has God forsaken thee?

Sweet, peaceful Okinawa caught in the Hellish path
Of Mother Nature’s wrath.
Storm-bound hidden from roaring winds and rain,
Get numb drunk and feel no pain.
Typhoon season is here.
Will it be a bad one this year?
With many fierce storms to fear?
I pray not.

Typhoon Season

The wind rips the Rock like a saw through timber.
Rain forms in broad sheets carried on great gales.
In Okinawa cyclone blown, racked but limber.
Prepare, batten down hatches and trim the sails.

The sun has gone missing, swallowed in gray skies.
Water spouts twirl a devil’s dance in the sea.
Like Habu hissing, debris through air flies.
Typhoon has come, breaking boughs and twisting trees.

Typhoon has come, howling wind won’t let you be.
Typhoon has come with rain so heavy you cannot see.
The storm imprisons the calm and will not set it free.
Has God forsaken thee?

Sweet, peaceful Okinawa caught in the Hellish path
Of Mother Nature’s wrath.
Storm-bound hidden from roaring winds and rain,
Get numb drunk and feel no pain.
Typhoon season is here.
Will it be a bad one this year?
With many fierce storms to fear?
I pray not.

Continue reading

Typhoon Season

The wind rips the Rock like a saw through timber.
Rain forms in broad sheets carried on great gales.
In Okinawa cyclone blown, racked but limber.
Prepare, batten down hatches and trim the sails.

The sun has gone missing, swallowed in gray skies.
Water spouts twirl a devil’s dance in the sea.
Like Habu hissing, debris through air flies.
Typhoon has come, breaking boughs and twisting trees.

Typhoon has come, howling wind won’t let you be.
Typhoon has come with rain so heavy you cannot see.
The storm imprisons the calm and will not set it free.
Has God forsaken thee?

Sweet, peaceful Okinawa caught in the Hellish path
Of Mother Nature’s wrath.
Storm-bound hidden from roaring winds and rain,
Get numb drunk and feel no pain.
Typhoon season is here.
Will it be a bad one this year?
With many fierce storms to fear?
I pray not.

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Cave of the Virgins

This is a poem about a sacred place in southern Okinawa called "Himeyuri No To" (Cave of the Virgins). My poem details what happened there and explains why it is a sacred place. A memorium of mourning after the last battle of WWII.
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Spring Has Come to Okinawa

Spring Has Come to Okinawa

Ryukyu spring arrives with a slight
heaviness in the air.
Forewarning of the overwhelming humidity felt in summer time.
Small drops of perspiration escape from the edges of hair.
In prelude to the devastating heat yielded in next season’s prime.
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At Nakajin

Nakajin Castle (Nakijin-jo) ruins are in the Nago region of Okinawa. Many Uchinanchu go there to pray at shrines on the ruins site. I have visited there several times and have also prayed there. My visits inspired me to compose the following poem.
 
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