Tokyo 1989: A Man Will Fight Harder For His Interests Than His Rights

Post-War life interpreted
by art, technology and culture -

unique experiences of time personified
in concrete and glass –

stone edifices rise up
to tower over

our city’s architectural profile
and children’s haircuts, clothing, and shine.

Techno mod teenagers
color swish streets alive –

arms spread
the width that synthetic coats allow ...

... to experience the joy of light
which is their birthright.

Roaming bands of angels
disguised as gangs
of giggling playmates.

Unaccompanied minors
clear the way
for modernization
by storming the sidewalks

with the rain
of precisely created patterns
that unify their minds –

the mind, body
and spirit of the urban
mythological matrix.

Road speeders on motorcycles
free the way to make way

for connective technology –
beeping com-link counterparts form

a culture of I.D.
pre-screened dates,
mates and fellow digital conspirators.

Mobile phones ring
sounding off at street level
a resonance so high

that the signal-to-noise ratio
within the crowded sky crashes 

vibrations
into suspended intelligence:
floating billboards,
lingering advertisements –

hovering talk shows
with digital voices
showcasing brainpower,
selling clothes, food and love.

Materialism,
suspended from above,
blocks out the sun during the day,

and at night,
hung from below,
propaganda obscures the moon.

At the center of material questing
is the need for connection
not the technology kind,
but the human sort.

All this city and nothing to please the needs –
international prostitutes
and sexually explicit comic books
hint at human desire for connection,

yet all is conveyed silently,
with no intimacy, not even eye contact.

I cough, cough again,
and then choke myself out of believing

that the constant noise, smoke and flashing lights
will activate an apathetic attack.

I check my body’s subtle energy fields
for the expression of my deeper nature.

My energy cells are holding their own,
stabilizing my neutrality -
at least in space,
the space I occupy
belonging to my non-physical dimensions.

All my directional flows
of anything and everything in between -
my positive-negative, negative-positive,
positive-positive and negative-negative -
check true to my potential.
I unify in defense of nothing
and I protect my everything.

As I pass rows of kids playing arcade games
the flashing lights spontaneous combust
suddenly healing
the alignment of my being, balanced -
my chakratic energy centers
spin out vortexes
of excessive non-essential activity.
Walking the streets of Tokyo
any time of day or night
is a acupunctured journey
of blissful reminders of times past,
and arrogant mindfulness of what is yet to come. 

A floating billboard advertises
 the charitable disposition
of a soul wanting marriage -

it reads;
"Remember your timeless wisdom waiting within for activation."

A bullet train resting,
before it shoots out of the station,
carries a sign that propagates the business of human nature
wanting a marriage of commercial minds.
 It reads,
something that Napoleon Bonaparte once said;
“A man will fight harder for his interests than his rights.”

 ~~ Other People's Fingerprints ~~
The second Law of Thermodynamics reads;
“All forms of life are tiny pockets of order
maintained by creating
a sea of disorder around themselves.”

"Rosette Nebula" by Brian Lula