9 thoughts on ““Japan Knows” Tanka 2027

    • But Korea is The Land of The Morning Calm even before it begat a Hermit Kingdom. U. S. Marines first landed on Korea’s shores in 1871, and again in 1951. And, yes, Japan is the Land of The Rising Sun. The pithy part of why Japan knows the horrors of nuclear war is why I am of two minds about letting North Korea have “a taste” of conventional warfare both to salve my own ire and to put partially paid to the bill Japan owes all of Korea for its WWII depredations, especially the “comfort women” who worked in both enlisted and officer brothels for Japanese troops. And more. Korea long has had a tradition in the south of student “riot” season in The Spring, pushing for reunification: one can not reunify a so-called democracy with a communist dictatorship run by one family. Sorry, Yassy: I over-enthused. Again.

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      • Product of not talking – reading (or listening, sometimes even carefully). I remember my first encounter with the word “Korea.” It was on the headline of the newspaper on the dining room table in Newfoundland where dad was stationed in the early 1950s. Something about continued fighting during the peace negotiations. I went to The Book of Knowledge encyclopedia set and looked up Korea and then to an atlas to see where it was in relation to Newfoundland. I wondered why dad was not there and we were not back in New York City where I remembered from mom taking me and my brothers back there for a visit the year before all those wonderful libraries, museums, parks and playgrounds. Sure. Send dad to Korea and me to the Museum of Natural History. Sounds good to me. I was about 4-years-old and had taught J to read so I could read the dictionary because adults kept telling me what words meant when I asked them – teachers, especially – and I knew they either were uninformed, misinformed or lying. I was then, later became better at it and remain insufferable about words: such wonderful doors and windows and I could not understand why some people kept glooping them up with meaning-mud when a simple trip to the big book my little brother sat on at the kitchen table where mostly we did our eating. The dining room table is where I did my reading. Heck. I was only three when I figured that out. Thanks for wasting half a life reading this tincture-of-tirade, your Yassy-ship. You, truly, are a wonder and delight.

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      • Now I am fulfilled. We all have wonderful stories to tell, especially to ourselves…WordPress is a great medium to tell yourself stories about you and who and how and what and why you are…and if others find something worthwhile in those stories they and you are so much richer than before when those tales sat alone in the dark – or in a closed box – with none ever getting a chance to share. You, Yassy, are a past-wonderful (is there a female equivalent to masterful? Misterful, maybe? – weaver of tales true and even more important than merely true – teller of stores, tales and in the words of Kurt Vonnegut, Wampeter, Foma and Granfaloons: yes, you are! A Grand Faloon! I – and no mean few others but throngs, throngs I tells ya – find your heart and soul in your poems and perhaps even more importantly in your willing, kind and encouraging commentary to and with other writers of the wonderful WordPress stage. May you stride its boards ever more beautifully, Mistress!

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      • That is a comment to die for. After reading you, I feel worthy and I feel wonderful . There are things I would like to share also ! I will , eventually. You have to bear with me, kind man. But your goodness encompasses all of us at WP.

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      • Well, that last sentence – sentences me to kindishness, no? And I feck-feel for waiting on the rain whilst neck-drinking cold beer and chomping last night’s popcorn (and maybe listening to some college baseball tournament action while waving away my deserving-of-better chores. Naah, Yassy. Live. The comment goes dark and dank should you not have eyes to read and find yourself dis-corporate: and I am building up to be buttinski over sundered-in-twain infinitives! The masked marker makes prowl! You are bringing out the nether side, m’dear! Sharpen your quill and rend me more movies writ on bloodless link with laughing eyes over each upward semi-inclined personal pronoun doing extra shifts inside Other Words. I go.

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