Raymond K. Nakamura writes, draws cartoons, and develops fun learning opportunities about science and Japanese Canadian history and culture, when he is not washing the dishes, walking the dog, or helping his daughter with homework. He is the author … more »
she left clues, memories, dots of inhabitance:
a man frozen at a cutting board, a woman hanging laundry,
a child at the inlet, collecting shiners,
all of them making home a speckled thing,
shaping city into light, stacked high, set … more »
Fireflies were always quite nice to see, for they glowed ever so brightly
With beauty comes vulnerability.
But people took advantage and trapped them in jars. So that they could enjoy their light for themselves. They planted seeds of houses … more »
On Halloween night, my stubborn, nostalgic
father clunked out his bashed-up trunk, nodded
to my dragon-signed son. Swiftly, they dressed up
in their favorite costumes and headed for China Town:
a Journey to the West, O Canada, O home for … more »
Millennium gate. Snow, dirtied, clots curbs. Cars drift: junks over Pender; Huangpu runs in asphalt, shimmering with Pacifc brine. Street lamps fooding red, imperial in the half-light, ficker hidden dragons to life: origami shadows, exfoliating walls. I, yellow girl on … more »
The chipped wooden cane of my century-old grandmother
beats haphazardly against the damp asphalt drumming to
a history of broken dreams fossilized by grey-black gum
chewed by absent ancestors.
A mustached man on East Pender,
a has-been accountant with a … more »
serene cerulean seats sating
the rain. she
envelops my skin with her pink
raincoats covered with salmon factory
stains. stains of yonder yearly reawakening from the rain. the rain comes
and goes. judiciously gracing us
then leaving us. everything is … more »
Language begins
at the crunch of siu yuk,
its rugged hide, and continues
through the rhythm of laughter,
the blues of evening vapor
among brass horns hoisting the dizzy
swing of conversation
A collection of lips
pressed against mouthpieces
while … more »
Sitting quietly by the First Narrows
remembering The Lost Salmon-Run,
of the ravenous yearning for strength,
unaware of the consequences
that will devastate our community,
shattering the solace seen in the sea.
Rumbling throughout the city of glass.
Making space … more »
After, you would join others at the beach,
greedy for a glimpse of wreckage –
barge slammed against seawall, containers
like a copper fort bricked against sky.
Scrawl of flip-flops, kelp lacing the bike path.
A fishing vessel propped against … more »