Japan.

I had to wait for the first train at first light even before buddha had turned
over in his bedsheets and I slept on a rotten hard floor whilst the Imperial
Police Men with serious faces paced up and down with diligent time keeping but
never dared ask 'what brings you here?' And then the shutters opened and I
caught that train bouncing along above the infinite small stone shacks draped
with electrical cables and wooden heartbeats echoing through the small empty
gut wrenchingly beautiful sad streets whilst enai !u"i sits still listening
forever and waiting to triumphantly play his part in the silent song of tokyo
but in the meantime sits still happy resting and turning the pages.ome middle
aged suited man sat down opposite and played his handheld game tapping away
and old boys reading the racing form with various old hats from #$s europe and
timid black haired neatly dressed office girls with heels and closed eyes when
the boss comes around and Im wide awake after not sleeping for two days
straight watching the umida%iver dance a morning skip with the early starting
folk either running or walking or the bums who await the sun hoping and
praying for its &uick return or knowing in wisdom through time and many nights
coldly thinking' 'that aint no good to no one' and have learnt and found the
sun in the heart of themselves and disregard both sun and moon for their
facetiousness.I took off to (eno park full of hobos with cardboard bo) beds
and I felt like "umping in between them all and falling asleep but I didnt'
the park sits above a market of fish and strange food and dirty sideboards
hard faced "apanese men standing in immaculate white coats whilst the street
is dirty and the stalls all blackened and grey rain begins to fall and I long
to buy most things but I don't.*hen I go steaming back through (eno park past
the bums with grey beards and long hair and swollen morning eyes but still
madly laughing at my kinship' 'like you a +ritish' and your blood never spilt
here' ' *heres a perfectly played baseball game in the park played in
commensurate spirit and elegance making me want to stay all day but the game
is so peaceful I start to fall asleep under the green canopy of trees and
plants and the cigarette smoke of drunken old men who laugh and curse the sky
when another kid strikes out and takes it nobly.I met a girl in a cafe by a
temple who after having spent some time in ,ong -ong but never learnt about
the opium wars could speak alittle english as she shuffled closer and closer
then said from under her straight black thick fringe. . where you from? . .
/ngland. .uh hum' you like "apan? . she asked. . I like Japan. I told her. he
gave me her calling card' she had an office in this infinite city of business
and commerce then I took off for 0in1a and ran around the Imperial 0arden a
while dreaming of swimming the moat and scaling the wall surrounded now by
modern government buildings all looking similar and not one person seen apart
from the security at the front gates' I found a pond in a park and sat a while
and thought on noah and leo' on lou' katie' angelica' mary magdelene and
martha and aigo *akamori.*hat night at midnight I went temple hopping beneath
the stars and found the *okugawa gravestones and a big buddha hiding in the
trees and one little lamp light lit up his chin as I watched the trains go by
underneath full of business types all safe and respectable away from that
"awless ghost of death who childishly chased me around the graveyard where I
ran laughing skipping "umping round black corners and low clouds.
Japan
I "umped down the stairs at Asakusa tation and got my ticket waiting for the
melody to tell me the train is approaching' then the ne)t one to tell me the
doors are opening and the last one to tell me those doors were closing and I
sat down ne)t to some middle aged woman with thick glasses' she was aware of
my blood and western assuredness of skin but I wanted to tell her 'no no no Im
displaced' more confused and unassured than she ' +eautiful teenage girls all
well dressed with Japanese style going to hibuya or hin"uku for coffee or
food with friends'a style' a take on european convention with long white
dresses and pearls and thick high heels and eyes which watch for other girls
similar in style and not boys for prospective lovers for thats all different
to western girls and appearance of heart not true heart is giggleworthy to
those Japanese 0als who don't e)ercise their power and their reserved self
fuels all that romanticism of /mperors and bloodlineless of Princess hoda and
their composure and measuredness is a lesson in femininity one which you could
write endless tales about and perhaps understand all of Japans ,istory by the
disposition of those girls whom differ and stand out in mysteriousness even
enough for me to realise she's firmly "apanese and born to these islands and
history because her eyes say my great great pappa was a shogun and I'm a
shoguns daughter and Japanese women throughout history never hid their eyes no
matter how gruesome or romantic the tale.I had to change lines and wait for
those melodies again before I got off and ascended the stairs at %oppongi and
darkness had come down on old "apan and men in suits walking with umbrellas
and girls walking alone and mothers on bicyles finding gaps between traffic
and pedestrians with great ease and skill and commitment to people moving out
of the way.I "umped in a Ja11 +ar called Alfies and the whole place was dimly
lit and business men with cigars and cigarettes laughed and hummed and talked
music to each other as I sat down alone right ne)t to the grand piano
unknowingly the best place I could have picked beforehand I ordered a beer and
the band saw me taking my coat off and they smiled at my presence in all my
clumsy order of limbs and forthcoming 2orman face so I bowed before sitting
down and they seemed to like that but I wanted to listen and nothing else. 2ow
the band was made up of a trombone player a drummer of course' a double base
player' a sa)ophone player and a pianist. And all combined to make the most
beautiful sound having all made light work of those technicalities musicians
must overcome through both practice and time but all well beyond that to
playfully allow soul and spirit to shake and manipulate the air and have it
escape through that valve under their full control allowing every note to be
nothing but the complete personification of the player. 3kay so let me
describe to you the Pianist who beckoned me then vanished but that was enough
and its what she intended' who dived to the deepest darkness part of my being
shone a light there momentarily but was always only passing through. he wore
a black cocktail dress which hung loosely on her pale shoulders it ran down to
her knees but when she got lost lightening up the caverns of my heart it rode
high up her thighs and on she went going wild and wilder with long slender
arms and beautiful dark eyes and her dark thick hair tied up becoming looser
and looser whilst the drummer kept his beat and double base player tapped and
flicked away and she with each flick and change of keys bounced her whole
pacific made being along that eternal ocean going deeper and further to that
shore beyond all fingers and sounds which grace the keys of a new dawn and
that dress riding higher and higher up her thigh and her hair almost e)ploded
over her face like her own soul was busting at the seams of her dress to
escape and dance a Pasodoble with my eyes atop of the piano and relieve her
fingers' she looked like she was going to faint when she swapped and the sa)
man did his thing and she brought herself back slowly tightening her hair and
straightening her dress and composing herself and nodding to me smiling hoping
I knew or heard what she was trying to do and I sat watching her forgetting
about my drink like I was stuck stranded where she left me but she had learnt
to make that trip back along those waves no ship faring seaman could know'
this carried on for about an hour with me and her waiting for her part again
in each song and it would come and that dress would move again' her fingers a
non part of her thinking self so graceful but tough and powerful and she
bounced she twitched she bumped around on her seat her soul kicking the doors
down to reach every e)tremity of her fingers and to go further and fuse her
blood and those ivory keys and she knew it and she sank further and further
and waded further and further knowing I was following her or she was pushing
me through the mysterious darkness of my own 4ongo and she wanted me to go on
and her hair came completely loose and spread across her face and I saw her
look through it like she was asking 'you gone here before?' I shuffled forward
on my seat and she went from the higher octaves to the lowest deepest notes
but she played them still increasing with pace which gripped my whole heart
and she shook her whole person with angelic convulsions which manifested all
that unearthly energy she possessed to her arms and fingers I thought she was
going to slam her sweet forehead on the keys to finish when she nearly
collapsed dripping with sweat falling from and through her tangled mess of
dark hair she e)cused herself and went to the bathroom as the song continued
to play. I left then because thats how I wanted to remember her' given up to'
embraced by'her whole e)istence taken up to that which she knew nothing of'
that sound beyond intelligent e)perience beyond mans complete understanding
that sound which suffices and lit the room and lit her soul and brought her
unlimited pleasure.I ran down the street gleefully "umping over water hydrants
skipping in and out of pedestrians and drunk business men who all thought me
another drunken 0ai"in' but I wasnt drunk' I was madly in love with life and
all it can offer' I stopped for a beer in this bar by the river and smiled and
radiated pacific pleasure of earth and seasons and I talked to the barman and
when he asked ' you here on business?' and I told him no no and e)plained how
I was to write a great novel and be a renown writer very soon. ,e smiled and
believed it through all my "a11 restored sincerity and loyality and pursuit
and endeavor to keep on going...he knew if no one would read even one line of
my work it didnt matter because thats what I would be. ,e seemed to like me
more after that and we sat and talked a while about british beer and london'
modern politics and -awabata's dancing girl of I1u which I understood
wholeheartedly after two whole nights in Japan.
Japan
*he bus station at hin"uku sits below huge office skyscrapers and
architectural feats of steel and impressive manipulation of metal and I walk
carrying my bag with my head looking skyward at one building then the ne)t but
instead my vision blends to the blue sky above till I no longer see grey or
black or shiny silver but clouds reflected and the soft blue sky in
everything. I sit at the window on the bus to watch all the passing land as we
leave old tokyo behind and I see little Mr 5orimoto hanging his clean white
shirts on his tiny balcony overlooking the road with his one window and one
room and tatami mats to do all his eating and sleeping and all the rest inside
those small colourless walls but he's happy he smiles pegging his shirts to a
makeshift washing line then the bus moves on I leave that strange mi) of
stationary lives amongst fast moving tokyo and hit the verdent green meadows
and mountains and hills of northern honshu.*he road spirals up and around this
mountain and I look down across a small town where each home is surrounded
with a patchwork of rice fields full of small women with straw sunbonnets
working on their knees "ust like you might see in some south american plain
cultivating sugarcane or coffee beans besides the simplicity of their homes
which they use only to rest and hide from the sun which reflects off the
rooftops making all those homes look flimsy and susceptible to wind or any
other strong earthly force which teases mankind and his attempt at shelter
"ust I believe those people down there are more a part of those mountains and
that divine wind than those small overshadowed shacks.I drop my bags off as
the sun begins to sink in 2agano so I run up the road to the renowned 6enko"i
temple overlooking the town at the top of the ancient road so straight and
direct running all the way up till I reach the 2aimon gates where I let the
old guardpost ghosts know that I have no reason or business of any sense being
here and they roll about with laughter and let me go through till I reach the
outer walls where you must disembark from your horse or bicycle as an old
samurai tradition still stands as the road turns to cobbles and beautiful
ryokans on either side lit up by candlelights and wooden doors opened to allow
the incense to flow out and roll back down that dark road a big mean ugly
statue of -annon greats me at the anmon gates and I e)plain to him or her I
think she's a goddess but she looks like a man but ultimately it doesnt matter
which' 'I won't be long' I tell her''you can keep your eyes on me if you
like'but I instantly regret saying it and I feel the heaviness of all those
who have gone before me all those who have walked these cobbles for countless
centuries and were stopped at those gates and made to e)plain from which land
or whose clan might 5e have come' I'm that far inside the walls that every
building I can make out is traditional with sharply carved wooden features all
topped with thatched roofs all perfectly simplistic but finished so
meticulously that there is no blemish or shortcoming in the whole building and
look like they have already stood for an eternity and will continue to do so
and old 2agano looks "ust like it might have once done from this distance with
little lights and its &uietness and I realise back then no westerner would be
allowed this far not even An"in Miura and its as if Ive cheated and not seen
the yearly changes so I can fuse both old land Japan with the present and
within these surroundings all I see and feel is an ancient town and I feel
like I'm gonna have to be &uiet and use my best "apanese if some girl comes in
,eian style kimono and knows only tea ceremonies with her hair all neatly tied
and screams if she sees me for she's seen a strange faced phantom from beyond
the hori1on of the flat blue ocean.*he sun is almost down now and I catch
sight of Ji1o sat shining in si) shadows that compassionate bodhisattva with
palm e)posed and hand up and longing to know 'how long have you been stuck
for' and I shrug my shoulders and smile then bow because I don't know what
else he demands and I wave to him out of respect and I dont want him to follow
me around so I swiftly go inside the temple and its so perfectly &uiet that I
can hear the wooden pillars s&ueak as they bend or move in a way which wasn't
intended. I try and get out of sight from mean old -annon and those scary eyes
and find a few wooden steps around the back which oversees a shadowy garden of
low hanging trees and I no longer hear a sound' nothing absolutely nothing and
I close my eyes and concentrate on my breathing till I feel
0ods0olden+lankAnswer allowing me all my tomfoolery allowing me my waving and
bowing my fascination with Ja11 Pianists and tells me 'its good your here' for
me and for the earth and I shake off his silliness and charge back towards
those gates where -annons stood and the sun is completely gone now and its
pitch black but that cobbled road is lit up all the way on either side by
candles which flicker and I stop running and embrace it and I think 'whose lit
these up one by one and why didn't I see or hear them' but I forget that
because Im too busy walking gladly and looking down that straight road to the
middle of 2agano instantly coming all the way back from 3ld 7and Japan when I
get further into town and I'm met by the sound of a big freight train bouncing
along the land and I laugh to myself and go get a beer