I found one from a few years ago that, for some reason, I hadn't posted. Probably because it was too personal back then. If that even is a thing, poems tend to be personal.
Either way, it is a dream of accuracy indeed.
Let's stir demons in their dreaming.

「叙情」
Dream of Accuracy (29. May 2011 ( Read more... )

I might have written this for someone.
Maybe.
Maybe it was just for myself.
Then again, these things always just happen, because they are meant to, not because there is intention.

Reticence in Silence(29. May 2015 ( Read more... )

My thanks go out to Melon, whose words of encouragement and praise did help inspire something.
Dedicated ... to "poets who have lost their pens".

A poet lost his pen
(18. January 2014)

I look up at the sky, the stars,
The trees moved by a breeze
And I feel that what once was
( Inside me stirs and flees )

Seems like someone came back from the land of dead poets. I've been looking for ways to describe what I've been feeling. Despite the next, there is nothing much else to say. 僕を導いた存在に感謝。

Blaze
(11. May 2012)

A crystal of chaotic sadness flickers
in the purgatory of atlantic eyes
( And a sense of prevailing detachment snickers )

Originally this didn't have a title. Muses struck again multiple times the past weeks, several times a day. For this one they did while I was out and about somewhere, so it just went as the second part of a "Fragment" for a while, before I decided to put it up.

理由(15. February 2010 ( Read more... )

On the day I wrote this, I had a heavy weighing feeling deep down in my guts. Instead of it dragging me down, I tried changing it into something written.
I wasn't surprised to later find out that the gloomy, encaging feeling in the end seemed to have good reason. I even laughed at how fitting some instances were... Right.

The Butterfly's Dream ( Read more... )

Yes, it's been a while since my last one.
This was written during the flight back from my vacations. I had my eyes closed, half-sleeping, half-awake, yet neither, when I suddenly woke up, with words lingering in my head. I got paper, and a pen, and started writing, gazing outside from time to time.
And yet your color is broken　with old wings, ( Read more... )

「Lies」 (1. March 2009 ( Read more... )

I had feared that the recent issues might have laid the entireness of my muses on ice. Well, maybe not all of them.

Forever. Not. Yours.半世紀前逢いましょう   安い   エンディング     刺して ( Read more... )

"The mind of the perfect man is like a mirror. It does not lean forward or backward in response to things. It responds to things but conceals nothing of its own. Therefore it is able to deal with things without injury to [its reality]."

The perfect man has nothing he would want or need to hide ( Read more... )