Putting the Invisible into Words

Introduction

Things that are hard to put into words, things that are invisible to the eye.

This week, three poems that attempted to put such things into words came together in succession.

One is a poem born from my own hands.

Another is a poem that had been sleeping within me for a long time.

And the third is a poem by a senior poet I encountered at a poetry gathering.

The fray begins to wear the light

The other day, I darned some sneaker socks and a towel blanket.

It is a handcraft where you stitch colorful threads into places where holes have formed.

There are various techniques, from filling them in modestly in a grid pattern to darning in colorful, swirling patterns.
Using embroidery thread, cotton thread, and yarn, the finish was more colorful than I had imagined, like a piece of art, and it made me happy.

A feeling that goes beyond just "fixing it because it's a waste" had been growing within me for some time.

If I can, I want to use it until the very end.

That feeling begins the moment I insert the first stitch.

Mending was not only about fixing, but also about creating a new design.

The place that was frayed, far from being hidden, becomes the place that wears the most light.

The "people too" in this poem refers to myself.

Just as my way of facing objects changed through mending, I think something within me also changed little by little.

That is because there were times I felt I was living a life like a hermit.
But I'm still not ready to be discarded yet! M-e (laughs)

The Pride of Prime Numbers

"Prime numbers have high pride."

——Ever since I heard those words somewhere, they have remained in my heart.

As if numbers had personalities, proud and unapproachable. I was simply drawn to that personification.

It was much later that those words overlapped with the face of a certain person.

That person, who worked in theater, had a unique aesthetic sense, a bit of a haughty air, and yet possessed a charisma that drew many people in.

They were not a mathematician, so they were not someone who talked about mathematical formulas.

Even so, when I think of their demeanor, for some reason, the words "prime numbers have high pride" feel like the most fitting description.

I heard directly from them that they had been diagnosed with cancer and given a terminal prognosis.
They revealed their inner thoughts to me quite candidly.
They had not lost their spirit for their work.

The "you" in this poem is a person created by the overlapping of fiction and reality.

It was not the real you who talked about prime numbers, but a different image I held within me. But that high-mindedness, the power to attract people, and the way you looked just a little fragile—that was you yourself.

There is one more thing that surprised even me.

I rarely use the word "love" in my poems.

It is too vast, and as a label to attach to my own emotions, it never quite feels right.

However, in this poem, I wrote "loved" without hesitation.

I still do not want to say that I love something.

But I could write without hesitation that you loved mathematics, the sky, and flowers.

Words I usually avoid slip out easily when it comes to you. That was a small discovery for me.


Also,
the photo of the "sky" was borrowed with the permission of Hanabusa-san (@shakekanwel), who has been continuously photographing the sky and bicycles.
They are also the author of the novel "Otomezuka."

It is a wonderful photo and a worldview I love.
Please take a look at their X if you would like.

"Series: A Poem with a Bookmark" — From the poems of Setsuko Abe

Beyond just my own poems, I would like to gradually introduce poems by others that have left an impression on my heart.

Regardless of where they were published, I want to share a poem that touched my heart exactly as it is, as a work of art.
Of course, this is done with the author's permission.

It is with that thought in mind that I started the "A Poem with a Bookmark" series.

The memorable first poem is by Setsuko Abe, a senior poet at the Kyushu Gogyo-ka Society.

Now, please enjoy it at your leisure.

This was a poem handed to me on a printout the day I first observed a meeting of the Kyushu Gogyo-ka Society.

In just five lines, something invisible truly rises up right there.
I have remained captivated by that power ever since.
I remember being suddenly asked for a critique of the poem and saying, "It's an image of a stupa standing in the sky for a moment. A mental landscape that conveys a quiet sorrow."

I still keep that printout carefully.

"The wind cannot be seen with the eyes, but it can be felt. For just a moment, did the wind appear to stand straight like a 'tower,' or did I feel it..."

—That is what Abe-san herself told me the other day.

I heard that she wrote this poem when she stood in front of the house that had become vacant after seeing off a relative.

I had been wondering what the core of Setsuko Abe's poetry was.
I understood a little after hearing about her father's background.


Her father, who has since passed away, was apparently a contributor to "Kyushu Bungaku," presided over by Ashihei Hino.

She says she grew up watching her father's back as he faced manuscript paper, and was raised being told, "Words are living things; both words and people's hearts are things that change."

The ability to grasp invisible things with words that have a tangible feel might be something that has been passed down in that way.

I will continue to keep my eyes on the poems spun by Setsuko Abe.


What did you think of this poem?
I would be happy if you could leave a comment.
I would like to convey it to the author.

That was an introduction to "A Poem with a Bookmark."

Afterword

When I line up these three pieces, I realize that they are all poems that dared to put into words things that should have been impossible to express.

A sensation born within the hands that pierce with thread.

An emotion I didn't want to label, directed toward someone I might never see again.

And the presence of the wind, which cannot be seen with the eyes.

Putting things into words always comes a little late.
Even so, I want to put them into words, even if it is late.

This week, I encountered poems that made me feel that way.

Perhaps this is what it means to spend time in a rich way.

I will put down my pen here for today.

Well then, please come back and visit again!

(End)

On weekends, I compile my poems and their backgrounds here on note.

I post my poems on X. Scheduled for 8:30 PM on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays.

And I will also be posting images on Pinterest.

I have created over 200 boards, which have become a collection of things I love.
In a word, it is a world of geekiness, but
please feel free to take a look.

#FiveLinePoem #FiveLineSong #ShortPoem #Poetry #JapanesePoetry #Karakurenai