Shinjuku

Its energy hits like a delightful slap,

Bold as Brass, it reels me in

Quintessential Tokyo,

I have longed to stand right here.

There is no escape from the light, sound, colour…

Nor do I want to.

Ensnaring in its motive,

Brutal, honest

No deception.

Eyes wide open, I sense, I feel,

I turn a corner, but I step back in time,

Juxtaposed among the technological salute

Lies an ancient secret, not well kept

Leaving me enchanted.

These tiny alleyways hide another world

Sake for the Salarymen,

Yakitori for the Youth.

Dedicated chefs in intimate corners

With banter so polite

Atmospheric Gold

Charming me completely.

 

T. T. T.

Wired and Moody

Artificial voices silenced.

I watch on, brooding

I want to run.

Hush now, go to sleep

Frozen still, I almost weep

Compelled, I decide to stay,

But they do not want to play,

They cannot, anyway.