Dedicated to: Teruaki san, 村上輝明 Jimmy Murakami born June 5, 1933 – died February 16, 2014.
He was a child who hid the endless hours but the hurt he caged, he failed to contain. Confronted by emotion, it served only conflict till that was all that soon remained. The journey beckoned to take him homeward but another opened as a past drew near. His demons treasured his idle presence as freedoms soldiers stole another year.
His forbidden colour cast a long barbed shadow beneath a swollen sun and a swooning moon. The frame rate passed slow in an endless desert and a trumpet sounded to a different tune. Clouds that thundered a childhood taken where lightning crashed in the endless wastes. In darkness slumber his mind awakened,dreaming spirals of forbidden shakes.
But the waves kept crashing and the sound grew closer to whisper silent; Teruaki awake. As darkness dissipated and change was welcome yet the inner scar left only hate. A door was closing as windows opened and distant voices cried a route to take. The spinning tortoise and walking snowman sounded a space his world to create. Yet the past still seethed on two frames timing; a limitless perspective without a shinning gate.
He left his homeland and became an alien to find a garden to rest his rake. An unforgiving island sits mid – Atlantic where crashing gales swept ashore of late. The garden sits now; its stones all silent; a hidden testimony of a broken slate. His passion burned here, no life’s without fear; an ending of journey’s; as old friend’s await. Soon clouds release their monsoon deluge and the arid desert will echo awake, where children once played behind barbed fences as freedom sounded and the atom quaked. ‘Asobou yo… Teruaki san’
Copyright © martin hanley 2/16/2014