Naginatajutsu Girl~

             I

 

Each little shoe box

at the end of a rope

splatters of ink

young body tied to every word

dance of fingertips

on a Sunday morning . . . .

inside

a pigeon feather

dipped like a quill into adult movies

drawing a bitter tang

from a deep

blue kind of terror

unclasp

wingless visitors

playing submachine minuets

a swirl of cream

illustrated between the sketch of a parking lot

and a porcelain doll dressed in a kimono

siren stains of red

on a lace curtain

cut from the trails of a wedding gown

 

                     II

 

In one envelope

a man like a distorted cartoon

all steel lines

bullet lips

crawling after an adolescent made of lava

elastic fingers breathing around her ankles

"No witnesses"

the young Yakuza

unseasoned

bends to willow arms

"How do you want to die?"

oh

how

she laughs

a piece of Jimmi’s vertebrae clutched in a little fist

a memory to be blended with moss

in a future shadow

and it was this

that saved her

the sound of anguish centered perfectly in her sunshine vocal chords

amidst trails of ruby stains

eating delicate branches of sanity

feeding a central nervous system iodized with impending rage

it was the laughter

the impending violence in her oriental eyes

phosphorescing

that moved Shouichirou’s finger from the trigger

to her clavicle

instead

tracing his fate into her bones

 

                     III

 

Dance a two step with the fingers

a palm on a red seal

the sound of airplanes

mountain crush

against the landscape of the room

multiplying

a screen in flickers

young yakuza aging in pixel brocades

the skin of her hands remember

they itch for the solidity of the naginata

"How many lives do you have, Shouichirou?"

 

                    IV

 

The fish market smells of the sea

the fish market smells of poker faced suits rattling old cages

Miko gives her ink eye with a nod

the glitter of naginata from velvet

slowly now the dance comes around

she hands over a fold of bills above perch on ice

action as contraband

slips into the shadows of the old yakuza

a heightened creature picks his spine

"Shouchi." ruby mouth smile

ruby blood woman

made of lava

unties the ribbons from the past

pours her metal like baptismal in reverse

his recognition smoke

and alms

and incense

naginata liquid point between ribs

lingering

"Yakuza, kutabare!"

venom tears

fall with a conscious leap of aortal blood

pumping

"Keri~o tsuke~yoze!"

blood bubble words

she shakes her head

the moment revolves

no one sees a thing

body on ice

under rotting perch

 

                     V

 

She

in kimono

in graceful fold of knees

pours tea

vengeance like calligraphy

in a letter

on the table

Jimmi’s picture in a frame

Jimmi’s memory in a tattoo

under her clavicle

the taste of jasmine

lotus blooms

impress her tongue

with could have beens

and kabuki fairy tales

she does not meet

Jimmi’s father’s eyes

he whispers

"Arrigato."

between sips

of his naginatajutsu girl;

she pours

the tea

 

 

 

copyright:2010vssmd/pa.inc

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

 

excerpt from

 

 

 

 

 

Author's Note

"Keri~o tsuke~yoze!" Let's finish this, now!
Arrigato Thank you
Yakuza Japanese mafia
Kutabare A bad word =P

Reviews

[Jonathan De Elvira]

Oh selene, selene, selene, arrigato kozaimasu for this masterpiece, it reminds me of Edo era of some sort...Again, a big clap for you dear...I love it, and trust me this piece will be better every time I read it again and again...

P.S: gonna be in my general reading...

[Dream Weaver]

Phew!!!! What a work of art, I'm truly impress :)

[Cafe Reader]

Epic, heart breaking! A 100!

[MuSe Ampoule]

Great drama between the characters and the imagery in this is top notch! It read like an A rated Anime/Manga and I loved the sprinkling of Japanese here and there. The last stanza was my favorite (not because it was the last one) but the imagery in this brought it all together.

"vengeance like calligraphy
in a letter
on the table
Jimmi’s picture in a frame
Jimmi’s memory in a tattoo" Beautiful!

[Peter Joseph Swanson]

A beautiful fairy tale surrealist cup of tea!

[Robin]

damn , I love how you tell a story ..