Category: poetry
A Weeb Confession
Ryuuji just can’t get enough of Taiga
And Hiro falls so hard for Zero-Two,
But all their feelings amount to nothing
When compared to what my heart holds for you.
Like Ed and Winry who exchanged their lives
Under vow which will last forevermore,
The intro to My Dearest says it all:
Everything that makes me whole is all yours.
While Yuuki can’t live without her tacos
And Toushirou has mayo on his mind
Only you and your words keep me going
In spite of how all else is in decline.
I’m a degen weeb who’s head-over-heels for you
So I’ll stop since my face now matches my heart in hue.
To KyoAni with Love
Because of this studio, many know
of soldiers in metal who don’t panic,
of girls in the sky who both come and go,
of espers, robots, and gods who’re manic.
They helped bring us foxes who had lost it all
and deadly jams and ghosts and verbal tics
and otaku girls and high-stakes baseball
and purple-haired maidens and girls who’re sick.
Don’t forget the never ending girls’ talk
and ordinary lives with goats and deer
and mysteries with sad boys who just gawk
at curious girls who hide fears with cheer.
To us they make love and delusions real
along with mochi shops and swimmer boys
and magical amusement parks which feel
nostalgic yet still filled with joyous noise.
Boom! our hearts flutter while we watch brass bands
and phantoms and loving dragon maids
and girls who grow up while sporting new hands
and boys who shoot arrows and who throw shade.
The past is great, but the future can be ever more so.
Please pray for and think of KyoAni to heal and to grow.
A Friendly Reminder
Take heed, those of you who watch anime,
And don’t make work out of what should be play.
No matter the genre, do please enjoy
And strive to create instead of destroy.
So what if she likes shounen? He, shoujo?
The heart will always freely come and go.
It’s not something that’s hard to mind:
Just strive to be fair and be kind.
Actually, Really, Truly
Ghosts
There is no actual ending
but the series has to stop somewhere.
What really dies is their interest
as they rush to what’s next and new.
Another season brings more reasons
to forget.
Mixed Signals
Nocturne
To Ernest [9]
Morning Breath
as pretty as you were,
with your almond eyes,
bronzed skin and flowing hair,
i didn’t want to see your face.
our bitter stinky breath
were the morning rays,
welcoming life and heat
while reminding.