Poet, Performer, Dancer, Storyteller, Yogini
Invitation to Peace early morning these days no T.V. no radio prone to quietness I meditate everyday the same way like sitting on a rabbit's foot I feel safe and lucky bound by our desires I watch the incense rise busy busy busy thoughts busy buzzing clear the space toss them out watch them fly before they fall catch moments Genie Nakano, June 25, 2020 revised July 17, 2022
These are tanka that come to me as I meditate. I have aligned them into a tanka series.
rocks in a tumbler i have settled with time polishing the gems Genie Nakano (originally published in Ribbons and Spillwords)
This poem is written by my poet friend Selma Benjamin. She is 101 years old. She has been through the holocaust. She is gentle, kind, and very wise. Here is one out of her hundreds of poems that she has given me permission to print. Here goes:
2020 BLUES
Crazy plague from unknown source
Makes us turn lives upside down
Racism can no more be dismissed
Protesters up against police power
Pedestrians instead of cars on freeways
Looters exploit the situation
Fires, sticks and guns appear
Everyone is suddenly a criminal
Loneliness is multiplied a hundred times
Black and white replace nature’s colors
Boredom greys sunny days
Email takes beauty out of language
Zoom depersonalizes schools and meetings
Phone exhausts voice and feeling
Human beings are very sick
Scientists please find vaccines and cures
SB June 1
Selma Benjamin
this is my hood
where concrete meets the sky
neon lights twinkle
humanity in your face
born here, loved here, die here
in the Japanese American Hospital, May 15, 1948. Racists in America often refused to care or treat Japanese Americans, so we built our own hospital in Boyle Heights on a hill. I don't remember being born but when I went back as a teen, I remember the sweet care I received. I'll never forget it.
I spent the next 8 years living in projects, Aliso Village, Ramona Village in East Los Angeles then on to two different Long Beach Navy projects.
I feel sorry for anyone who didn't get to live in the projects. It was a lot of fun. There were always kids to play with. The one on Williams street had swings, jungle bars and enough room for hopscotch and marbles on the grass.
IF
I don't write
my life down
none of it
makes sense
Originally published in Ribbons an American tanka Journal.
there is a wounded child in us the way out is in
clouds turn into rain turn into spring flowers no birth no death
the mountain is a cat that keeps on napping
afraid of heights
I love to fly in my dreams
far away
above the earth
everything is clear
Genie Nakano
black cat
departs on a breeze
she left behind
scenes from another life
forest of tall trees
Nike
Bodhi dog
sits next to Nike cat
he licks her face
paws at her bed, moans
she is passing
each day weaker
she can hardly walk or stand
death never gets
any easier
no matter how hard I try
her tiny body
relaxed into my arms
not a whimper
not a cry
gently, gently, gone
Nike died, Oct. 24, 2016, 21 years old
Genie Nakano