Mist
from the mountains
makes
the flowers tremble
gentle awakening.
Genie Nakano, Sept. 21, 2020
“Tremble”
Insomnia
I wrote this poem long time ago–1999. My Dad, friends and myself made a small beautiful handmade book called “Pieces of Moon” which I sold at the Amerasia bookstore in Little Tokyo, Los Angeles California. “Pieces of Moon” sold out!
For the past few weeks–insomnia has returned. My dog Toto injured himself and I’m up many hours of the night trying to comfort him. It’s so sad to see my little guy in pain. I hope he heals but he is an elder — I think 17 years a rescue so I really don’t know how old.
A death poem…
let me
be a raindrop
falling
deep into the earth
wildflowers in the spring
Genie Nakano, 2019
This ‘death’ tanka was first published in a special feature — 25 death poems edited by Michael H. Lester for Atlas Poetica, 2019. “The genre of death poems has its origin in Zen Buddhism in Japan and offers a reflection on and nature of death in an impermanent and transitory world.” (Wikipedia)
sky
Genie Nakano, Sept. 19th, 2020
Meditation#7 Humbling Down
Revised, retitled, re-improved–Genie Nakano.
once
I watched an ant
crawling
the mountains bottom
it started to run
half its legs on the ground
in an alternating tripod gait
with quantum steps
my eyes followed
mind took me to the summit
there I wanted to be
but wind
blew me away
down the other side
breathing in breathing out
I follow my breath
on a lavender path
where I can see
below above and around
breathing in breathing out
ants are tickling my feet
carrying morsels
flowers and thyme
I can hear their feet
as I hear them say
"we bring food to the colony
an afterthought party will follow"
am I invited
"yes, if you help out"
so, I follow them
back to the bottom
the sugar is in my pocket
I've humbled down
knowing the other side
breathing in breathing out
breathing in breathing out
Genie Nakano
Pandemic Fantasy, 2020
Edited and improved. March when the quarantine started seems so long ago. So much has happened…
I left the world. It was getting too heavy, surreal like a Dali nightmare. Clocks falling off trees, big blinking eyes in the clouds. Plus a pandemic was going on. The White House announced it on Friday and the Eagle didn’t fly. So I decided to leave the world. I made a deal with my dreams. The deal was–pick one of my dreams and I could be there.
I chose the misted magical forest with a small stream running through it. This dream was special because it had a marvelous scent. Though my dreams are always in color most are not gifted with fragrance — this one was. As soon as I got there–I knew I made the right choice. I was in bliss the moment I opened my eyes.
There weren’t any people around so this made…
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Underwater… Meditation
Recreating
my past in my mind
oopps…
underwater illusions
coming up for air
Genie Nakano
Sept. 13, 2020, Sunday 9:15 AM
Murasaki
a wise woman in Norwich, England once said "When we are old and careless" inside my bones clattered for a moment I was free. cold bones luke warm blood wrists of a sparrow no wings. my left hip clicks in a silver joint unstable yet balanced titanium tensile strength decrees to out last me. something of beauty yet not beautiful an old woman who knows herself the one I want to be. Genie Nakano originally published in "Storyteller", 2014, self published, also Published in Atlas Poetica a tanka journal, circa 2000. I changed the title for my blog because I saw this photo of dew on purple leaves. Purple is my favorite color "Murasaki" means purple in Nihongo. originally the title was "Holy Bones". I think Murasaki is much better don't you??
A Retired Dancer
A ballet dancer looks at herself in the mirror everyday as a matter of fact a check on reality a retired ballet dancer--facts change is that really me in the mirror the front or the back bring out the bike the scales take a walk retard--the old bastard of time some say lucky to be alive at our age and furthermore-- never want to be twenty again I sit here chin rests upon my hand in thinker pose wondering--a fair trade wisdom for youth?? Genie Nakano originally published in Atlas Poetica, editor M. Kei: number 13 Autumn 2012
Cognitive Meditation…
When I meditate
many feelings surface
anger love regrets
I practice on
letting them go
Genie Nakano, August 6, 2020
Genie Nakano 