His black skin held tight The red blood that pumped life, Until she cut him. Her pale complexion Always hid the red blood, Until she was shamed. Her ancient ancestry Stayed in her red blood, Until the city stole her innocence. Kneeling in prayer Red blood sang through his body, Until hatred ended his life. Our naked desires Our blood red insides Our loves and fears The vessel matters not The souls are all alike. The heart pumps the same - Red blood.
Once again I have used a word that some may find offensive, so please don’t read further if you think you may be offended. I have not used the word gratuitously and I believe that without the word, the character of the senryu would be softened and it’s impact significantly reduced. If you choose to leave I understand and wish you all the best; if you read on, I hope you find the piece meaningful. Kind regards, Andy.
golden fish swims, gulps
warm spring air at the surface
never fears the stork
winter house beckons
ghost bells jangle between trees
sunrise warms my heart
Old age approaches. Death stalks his dreams. He hangs Ghost Bells in trees to ward off evil spirits. Then another sunrise, full of promise and life arrives – a new day to savour.
Translation by Google (hopefully it is close)
冬の家が手招き
ゴースト鐘は木々の間に聞こえる
日の出は私の心を温め
 | Mabel Kwong on Loss |
 | Nelkumi on Loss |
| Mabel Kwong on Prostate |
 | Mithai Mumblezz on Vale |
| Mithai Mumblezz on And then I was Grey |
Poetry is my aeroplane 