俳句館で

茶と琵琶湖一緒太陽と沈まれる

The Closer Shore

If he’d have moved, she’d have known he was awake – at least that was how he gauged the situation. He was just a boy of little consequence to anyone but himself. He couldn’t recall just how he’d arrived in this precarious situation, but he was betting it had something to do with a nagging ambition that always seemed to be pushing him just that much further than he’d have ordinarily preferred. At the moment, he lay on a rice floor, surrounded by rice walls, with an empty bowl and glass of rice just beside him. He wasn’t alone.

The sliding glass doors let in cool air and the heavy scent of spring. The morning was cool, and he could tell she was running a fever – face flushed with color and damp brow. Pushing back the futon, he rose to close the shade to block out the early morning light. Closed, the blue tints of the morning dulled to quiet hues and warmer tones. At the movement, she began to stir; he felt he must go. Leaving as he went, he paused, realizing it was the wrong thing to do. But he was already beyond returning – her sickness had become his.

It was yet early, but the sun, higher than one might have thought, stung his eyes. The wind was strong as he made his way along the breakers. Men were out in their boats trolling but were already picking up and making their way across to the other side. The air was clear, revealing the scenery so often blotted out by smog or moisture. On another day, he might have paused to take it in, but today all he felt was the cold spray from the crashing waves.

Making his way as he did, he thought of a song he’d heard sometime ago – it must have been something lilting, a lullaby perhaps, but the melody escaped him. Turning instead, as he did, to cross the street, he kept his feet moving. To himself he wondered where his concentration had wondered – he’d been somewhere else just the moment before. It had been a cozy room, he hadn’t been lonely, and there had been someone who seemed to have needed him. Just now, thinking on it seemed required an awfully great effort, and so he kept picking up his feet and putting them down again. He was headed for the tracks.

and back to you, Mr. Senator...

A link to the Senate's website is here and a link to the video feed (real) is here.
George Galloway is called before the Committee around time index 01:58:00. Galloway clearly, succinctly and eloquently floors the Senate Commission who have implicated him as being the recipient of oil/money/kickbacks in the Food for Oil Program.
Is this getting much attention back in the States?

[万博] 愛・地球博

so much to see. our first excursion to the Expo occurred this weekend - needless to say, I want to begin working promptly (read: NOW). the color, country, sun and people are all out in full force. they hit me over the brow, one・two・three, don't let me go. vain attempts at wiping away the enthusiasm cease and the meaninglessness of former missteps drown out in the excitement. people make this their lives, and even i forget that my ascent is behind schedule.

can't we all be this sincere in dreaming of visions? each country showcases their best side, and the UN and Red Cross/Crescent pepper the place with reality. enthusiasm is real, though, and this affects change - just be sure to wear your sunscreen.

and the queues, my God the queues! enough for the entire field of management science to indulge their sickest sensibilities. plasma flat-screens bow to Super High-Vision and ol' "i never quite got around to decomposing" Mammoth welcome all visitors with equal flare.

the big Japanese corporations create the biggest stir, and i've got a sneaking suspicion that Toyota paid for it all.

The Poison of the Seas

we walk in shadows cast by the demons harboured by all.

inside the illness eats us,
and a balance between the pain and peace we emanate is struck slowly.
"wishing for the right lights to shine," tolls the dull drone of the city's bell.

stillness washes the shores
littered by the passing of too many feet. the visitors have all gone home now;
but will they take with them the purpose of our monument?
monuments built on ideas and marketed to the general public complete with a color-coded merchandising effort,
the practicing of the preaching gets swept underneath the power-grid.
we present our face in smartly painted Styrofoam and projected across multi-layered screens. the effect is pleasing to the eye.

streamed across infrared light into amulet receivers - information is put aside as not having enough entertainment value. the show begins! a sharp breath is drawn and noisy reality falls quickly out of fashion.

BELIEVE in the future and ACT on prayer.
beautifully arching prayers stave off misinformation as wishing makes wanting true.