Comments : Fukuoka Ripples

  • 8 years ago

    by Cinnamonspice

    What a journey you took me on, an experience such as I have never known. I was mystified and in awe of the vivid images you penned. I felt as if I too were there and sharing this moment of wonder.
    You have a way of creating an escape from life through your wonderful words..thank you for this priceless trip
    Hugs my friend

  • 8 years ago

    by TJ Arizona Eagle

    Dude, you have penned the perfect journey , the perfect poem. I agree with Connie you shared with us a trip of wonder with your words..Excellent bro Excellent

  • 8 years ago

    by MyaEve

    Two words..
    Love it.

    You just wrote, as they said, ^^ a perfect journey. You put the words from their eyes into your poem.

    This is an amazing poemm.. I could FEEL it. The imagery, was beautiful.

    Very well penned poem here. (:

  • 8 years ago

    by Ingrid de Klerck


    This Sunday morning I finally have time to comment to your new poem! I already read it, but needed to find time, because I want to give you something truly helpful:

    Pulsating ripples filled
    the puddles of an uneven road...

    leaving me to seek refuge;
    running away from
    myriads of piercing driblets.
    Cloudy vision pass the baton
    to my instinct, directing me to
    the nearest shelter.

    This somehow read like a movie. You are confused, trying to make meat out of it all.

    Unknowingly I headed through
    a runway of crimson lamps;
    (destination unknown)
    not letting the already darkened hue
    on my clothes smear all over.

    Something sinister is trying to get a hold of you, and you are scared....

    Upon reaching, strings of
    a koto was[were] being strung,
    orchestrating a melancholy[melancholic]
    symphony, instrumentally stitching
    its foreign sound to my ear.

    Nice wording in this part," stiching a sound to your ear" is great:)

    Quietly I joined [a]other focused audience,
    already sat[seated] in the front rows, witnessing
    a lady in her cerulean floral kimono
    prostrat[ing] towards an ancient idol.

    Her red lipstick frown[s][,] [juxtaposed]
    against her white painted face,
    speaking universally of sadness.
    (I wonder if this was part of a play or
    a form of a prayer?)
    Great imagery here, I could almost see her and her white face..such mysterious creatures, these women:)

    Suddenly from the back
    came a family of three,
    donating crispy green notes;
    in a synchronize motion
    bowing twice[,] followed by two claps
    and ending it with a final bow.

    These people have power( money) and the ritual they perform seems eerie to me.

    A move which coincides with
    the finale of the zen ritual,

    Colored palettes with thorny
    edge[s] blooms[bloom] out of the air, safely
    exiting the small group...

    Safely seems the wrong word in this context..."quietly" would fit better?

    and there I was, left all alone,
    forced to spend time in solitude,
    rubbing my cold palms for some warmth.

    Ha ha, I could see you there, all confused and not knowing what to do and what to make of it all.

    (Wind blows through the hollowed windows
    like ninja spirits passing by an empty hall)


    Gazing at the simplicity of life;
    droplets conjoining one another,
    weighing heavier only to dive down to earth,
    in which I interpret, conjoint in marriage,
    diving into adventure and ends with us[,]
    buried underneath the earth;
    a positive distraction[,] found in
    an unlikely place.

    This had a kind of sadness in it, as if life is somehow meaningless and all will die eventually....

    I reached for my wallet for some loose change,
    letting it slide down the V-shaped slope,
    before it join others like him;
    as a form of appreciation for keeping me dry.

    As I squat at the sheltered
    entrance of the Shinto shrine, looking[I look]
    over the misty passage way out,
    wondering[and wonder] how am I going to
    get through the day

    be consistent


    I was greeted with a smile from
    a man dressed in white kimono, [like]
    an angel sent from the heaven above,
    without a word handing me
    a black umbrella.

    So this man gave you some sort of protection against the droplets..

    Azzza, to me, this read like you are describing how you finally grew up( found a way to stand tall in spite of the rain)

    Well thought out poem, well done, as always:)

    5/5 Ingrid