Yoko Danno
Yoko Danno is Japanese and writes poetry solely in English. Her poems have appeared in various international poetry journals and anthologies. Her recent poetry books are Aquamarine (Glass Lyre Press, 2014), Woman in a Blue Robe (Isobar Press, 2016) and Further Center (Ikuta Press, 2017). The second edition of her translation, Songs and Stories of the Kojiki, a collection of creation myths, songs and historical narratives compiled in eighth-century Japan, was published by Red Moon Press in 2014. She lives in Kobe, Japan.
The poem above is the third part of a trilogy, the first two parts of which appeared in an earlier issue of Otoliths.
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DREAMING AWAKE
1
This special moment
as if confined
in amber
calm as in deep waters
before awakened
to my body
*
The eyes radiate
tremors ripple through flesh
muscles tighten
as I kick the springboard
a sigh of relief
alights
on a honeysuckle
like a piece
of translucent
white cloth
*
The fear of flying resolves in the water
where even a vertigo
disperses
*
2
On the riverside
wild pigeons come flying
from nowhere
I have nothing to feed them
no crumbs, no seeds
no words
but watch them picking
at edible gems
among pebbles
*
Bird droppings contain
flower seeds
unforeseen
*
Feeling watched by numerous eyes
I switched on a garden light ─
Azaleas
in full bloom
in bright purple!
*
3
I’ve never dived into
a vortex ─ to be in or out of it
is the wind’s will
At the edge of an approaching typhoon
I soak in a hot spring bath
as in death
*
Ginkgo leaves scattered
as if spewed out of
a huge invisible ventilator
a divine disturbance
a sudden current of air swirls
round the high-rise building
*
Storms are raging, the lines crossed ─
here’s confusion for ten minutes
or a millennium
by long-distance call ─
Sunday morning/waves high/sons in the capsized
boat/ cries rising like bone dust/ a bomb bursts…
waves rough/ fingers severed/ a shard of glass
falling/ tattered bodies sinking to the…
*
4
The weird way the persistent sound
buzzing in my ears is threatening!
Don’t worry about the evacuation warning!
Today is the National Headache Day
*
What’s going wrong?
One of the bitter cucumbers
planted in my kitchen garden
wilting long before bearing fruit
as if avoiding premature harvest
*
The last candle in the kitchen
is about to be blown out
by a draft through a crack
The walls echo back
moans of the wind
beating the downpour
Outside it is blowing all day
while jam is made ─ kitchen
flooded with orange scent
*
5
How far is it to the retreat?
The fog burnt off
hedges of clouds illumined
in the afterglow
The sky pierced with pine needles
the backpack weighs
on my shoulders
*
A warning on my smart phone: return
halfway from the way to the mountain
temple: you’d find only Hell paintings
on the walls of the ancient lecture hall
*
Ice crystals
refract the moonlight ─
a blackbird
a straggler
stays alone
in the deserted nest
*
6
On a clear night like this
even dark stars are visible
in the sky’s
womb
Morning after her childbirth
stars are invisible
in the cloudless
skies
*
Atmospheric tension released
flower buds and sprouts breathe
freely again
My small garden covered with
fallen leaves, nymphs grow
underneath
*
White roses, withered
clinging to the stem
like wet paper tissues
lingering at the thin gateway
to a vast generating
circulation
*
Yoko Danno is Japanese and writes poetry solely in English. Her poems have appeared in various international poetry journals and anthologies. Her recent poetry books are Aquamarine (Glass Lyre Press, 2014), Woman in a Blue Robe (Isobar Press, 2016) and Further Center (Ikuta Press, 2017). The second edition of her translation, Songs and Stories of the Kojiki, a collection of creation myths, songs and historical narratives compiled in eighth-century Japan, was published by Red Moon Press in 2014. She lives in Kobe, Japan.
The poem above is the third part of a trilogy, the first two parts of which appeared in an earlier issue of Otoliths.