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When the Cicada Sings

Love brings forth life.

July’s midsummer heat stuck. It stuck to the blades of grass. It stuck to Sumire’s beige romper. It stuck to everything and anything like a sweltering bog. Sweat drenched her underarms as she set up her easel and foldable chair. Even at her elevated vantage point, the muggy draft painted her body with its salty sheen.Wiping her brow, she gazed over the stacked rows of terraced rice paddies below, bristling with the vibran...

SDF 2016

The crew of JDS Azumaya must stop a rogue JMSDF vessel from inciting a war with America.

JDS Azumaya Kongo-class Destroyer Japanese Territorial Waters CO: Captain Shinsui Hirayama 1500 hours Lieutenant Commander Tadayuki Nomata looked around the CIC with pride, allowing himself a small smile at the air of efficient, purposeful activity around him. Even though the bridge was thought of as the most important part of the ship, the Combat Information Centre was the nerve centre of the Okikaze. Using data gathered...

The Sheriff

Love is like a tattoo ...

Denlea wasn’t the sort of town you’d expect to see a tattoo-come-body-piercing parlour, but there it stood. 'HIBISCUS - Body Art and Massage' shared a row of grey stone terraced buildings with a chip shop, a boutique for mature ladies, a hardware shop, a butcher’s and The Copper Kettle Café. Its neighbours had opposed the opening of the tattoo parlour, objecting to the type of clientele it might attract. Jimmy Marshall wa...

. Motionlessly, the spider waited. As always, she was patient and vigilant, but her outward serenity belied an inner tension, the instinctive tension of the watcher, the hunter. If her mind could have conceived of time in human terms, it may have told her that the time was four in the morning. As it was, the spider knew that the prevailing darkness indicated that it was not yet time for her to retire and rest. So she wait...

Over the years I have paid homage to Japan in many of my poems but the following piece from 1995, seems particularly significant to me now in light of recent tragic events. It is based on an old Japanese folk tale about the Rashomon Gate in Kyoto. The city slumbers ill at ease As winds assail the maple trees, The kiri and the mountain pine. The shrouded moon so dimly shines Upon the houses as they keep The people safe in...