Come closer. Step forth if you dare. Be drawn into the world I create with the twitch of a finger, the wave of some hands. Watch with wonder, as my dreams become your dreams become real. What do you hold? Look at your hands. Nothing more than silver smoke, tickling your palm as it trickles from your grasp. Gasp with amazement as I kill my darlings— all the better to thrill and entertain you, my dear. One. By one. They fall. In the name of suspenseful entertainment. I give you the labyrinth of smoke and mirrors scribbled in the pages of your mind. There is no friendly woodsman to save you. Do you really need to be saved? What waits for you outside that compares with the kaleidoscope of sensation found here? Stay. Give me your hand. Don’t worry. I won’t let you go.
I remember the last time I saw her, it was my face
She didn’t remember.
She told me stories of my childhood, my job, my travel
As if I were a stranger.
I sat caught between forgotten and remembered.
Not knowing what to say.
Because that conversation that made her happy
Made me feel like a spy.
What if a certain question could make her reveal something
She would never say to my face?
Recognizing the subtle shift of responsibility
From the time
She used to scold me for picking tomatoes
Before they were ripe.
Leaving behind the times my many mistakes made her worry,
I joined her misted travels.
Choosing my questions carefully, I played the happy stranger
Taking time to listen.
Hearing stories of her grand-daughter, showed she remembered
Me. If not my face.
Before I knew there was a before
Reasoning that my reasons were really
Killing, smothering the voice
Every dreamer has to separate the dream from the real
No one could tell me so I’d hear.
Then did you really mean to play?
Reasoning that your reasons were really
Unintentional attempts at innocence because
To my dreams covered uncomfortable truths you couldn’t tell.
Day 2 of Writing 201 is limericks. Most of the limericks I find funny are dirty and usually rhyme with “Nantucket” but I try to keep it clean online.
Thinking of what to write, somehow my sushi eating experience came to mind. I like the idea of a cycle of limericks that go from sushi newbie to sushi pro. These limericks are about my journey towards liking something.
It’s a first draft which I might or might not polish up later. It’s a bit fictional since I still don’t like aka-gai and ika.
My first aka-gai in a shop
Was a large sushi, not a fine chop.
Though I chewed and I chewed
The fish was never consumed.
Lucky clean-up required no mop.
My first ika-sushi in years
Required I drink copious beers.
To eat tuna and negi
You don’t have to beg me
But raw ika just leaves me in tears.
Maguro, scallops and clams
Without wasabi are bland
I love the green tea
Enough ginger for three
And the best shoyu in all of Japan.