Four Poems

by Tamiko Dooley


Being brave

The clouds across your face

Rumble, threatening to rip the sky

Your mouth trembles from holding firm 

Face forcing eyes from filling 

 

My promise of treats to rot the teeth 

Or a trip on the trains  

No longer has the power to lift the storm.

 

And in the moment of disappointment disguised 

I see that this is growing, 

Not the lines on your wall to mark the months 

Nor shoes that your toes strain against 

 

But the hiding of pain that others’ words inflicted.

 

I grip the protective shield tightly,

Yet the armour that once gleamed as lightning 

Sits tarnished in an ever-loosening fist.





Slipstream

Kono kaze, doda!

You exclaimed

Jamming both hands into your pockets 

Shoulders braced against

The early January hours

 

I wrapped my hanten jacket tighter

You walked closely ahead to absorb the gale force

 

We were trudging away from the Akihabara bar

With its corners that hid the way you looked at me

 

When we arrived at my apartment in Kamitakada

You turned to face me on the frosted steps

And the winter night

 

Took

 

the

 

air

 

out

 

of

 

my

 

lungs





Daruma-san

I laughed when you said

I resembled a daruma-san

 

Through the smoky air of the izakaya bar:

However often you’re pushed over

You just bounce back, don’t you?

 

That night, alone,

I grimace comically in the mirror

 

At last the glass reflects

The meaning of your words

 

With a fist I smash the child’s toy

Sweep up the crumbs

 

To leave no trail behind:

 

 

Sometimes you have to break to return to who you are.





Reunion

and would it be like the time

we bumped into you at Shinjuku Station

under the giant clock?

 

you had your wheely suitcase

and were wearing your fluffy kiroi cardigan

squinting up at the departure boards

 

we saw you for a few seconds before you saw us

we skidded across the floor

pushed through crowds towards you

before you could move, before we lost you

 

your eyes landed on us as we shouted your name

Oba-chan!

your face was one of sunshine, of surprised delight

 

then with hugs and cheers

we help you with your luggage 

 

what a surprise to see you here!

and where are you going?

 

I clutch your fragile hands,

papery skin over blue-veined bones

as delicate as your hojicha tea cups

 

your watery eyes are a pale December sky

 

we hold and embrace each other

with the joy that we found you in the city

 

except this time we won’t wave you off at the platform

but climb aboard the train together

both smiling out the windows

at the fields that pass, that pass and roll into each other

roll on for miles

 

as far as the train will take us




BIO: Tamiko read Latin and French at New College, Oxford. She was the winner of the BBC Radio 3 carol competition 2021. Previous publications include SHIMA (Islands) (Alien Buddha Press, 2022), Seasons of Love Around the Rising Sun (Broken Sleep Books, 2023), and The Japanese House (Cephalo Press, 2023). Connect with Tamiko on X : @Tamiko_Dooley and Instagram @dooleytamiko.

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Four Poems

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Fragment: Long Island City Spring