imakito oku | watermelon way

20 10 2007


Poetry Dispatch No.100 | August 29, 2006

Watermelon Way by Imakitō Oku

summer red hot
cold melon
Bashō’s green smile

man hefts
heavy belly

knock, knock…
hello hollow darkness,
my sweet friend

in Japan

man lifting striped melon
color of my old pajamas

if you see the melon-belly
on the road,
bite the Buddha.

red watermelon
cold hands

green Buddha
on my shoulder

scrunch slice
swallow seed,
in you–haiku

Bashō floats
in the green temple,
dreams red

ninety-six degrees
red melon
her sweet lips

on the wide road
to the deep south,
Bashō opens watermelon

nibbling kisses
wet sweet mouth,
black teeth—spit, spit, spit…

moonless night–
a knife thrust deep
in the belly of the Buddha

pale melon, white seed
bitter rind
love gone

pink water stain,
empty plate,
autumn wind

garden compost, late November
broken melons under snow,
seeds make way…

from BROKEN WATER, Tokyo: Yamada, 1963



One response

22 08 2008
Barbara Vroman

Bashso’s watermelon: What celebration, what joy, what abundance of ways to express the watermelon’s qualities.
I love these!

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