Gray Sky, Gray Lake and Blue Child

I was standing on a beach watching the ocean, everything was blues.

The sky was low and dull grayly.
I put my feet into the gray lake shyly.
The little cold waves reminded my existence like.

I was 5 years old and I already felt unlike.

My heart was wrapped with clay.
My body was getting cold after I drained a few tears.

I knew it was the begging of the end.

I will soon stop playing like a pure child.
What could I do?

Their fists were already into my heart to grind.

I looked down the sand, the sand absorbed my tears.
And the sand did not say anything to me.

Gray Sky, Gray Lake and Blue Child (Original)

I was standing on a beach watching the ocean, everything was blues.
The sky was low and dull grayly.
I put my feet into the gray lake shyly.
The little cold waves reminded my existence like.

I was 5 years old and I already felt unlike.

My heart was wrapped with clay.
My body was in a blubber.

My tears were raked.

I knew it was the begging of the end.
I will soon stop playing childly.

Their fists were already into my heart to grind.

Our family used to live in Illinois. I was 5years old and I could
not speak Japanese at all. I was filled with fear when I heard we were
going to Japan. I thought I had to meet Big Bird in The Sesame Street,
but I could not ask my parents such a thing, because they were always
busy and they would be mad at me.
I wrote about a family trip before we went back to Japan. We
stopped by Michigan Lake. My father got angry at my second oldest
brother and me. I cant remember the reason why it happened. The
gray sky and the lake were like a prologue of my blue childhood.

A cat, gold fish, and I

Fish tanks were filled
with goldfishes
reflecting the light
busy swimming around
in the tank,
wishing they will get out,
taste the freedom,
an old man dropped
a dead goldfish
on the ground
with a soft plop,

a cat sitting
in the front of the man
reached its head
and swallowed the small body,
waiting for the next,
countless lives swimming
next to them,
the goldfishes could not see
where they would be,
but the cat and the man
knew their routine
darn well,
I dont know how often
this ceremony was held by them,
reflection of lives in the back,
a dead colored dot on the ground,
A frozen time held me to not move,
I, 6 years old, watching and stunned.

All kinds of goldfish from 100 Stories

By Kuniyoshi Utagawa, 1839

A cat, gold fish, and I

(Original)
Fish tanks were filled
with goldfishes
reflecting the light
busy swimming around
in the tank,
wishing getting out there
taste of the freedom,

an old man dropped

a dead goldfish
on the ground
with a soft plop,

a cat sitting
in the front of the man
reached its head
and swallowed the small
body,
waiting for the next,

countless lives swimming

next to them,
the goldfishes could not see
what was going on,
but the cat and the man
knew their routine
darn well,

I dont know how often

this ceremony was held by
them,
Lives in the back,
Death in the front,
A quiet time was flowing
around me, 6 years old
watching and stunned.

My new life in Japan was totally different. I forgot English and

started speaking Japanese in 6 months. I was going to a second school,
even though I was in kinder garden, because I had to prepare to pass
an exam to get into a private elementary school. I did not have a choice.
I was for my parents ego.
I was waiting at a bus stop. There was a goldfish store. Watching
the goldfishes was my little pressure that time. Then I saw the sight an
old man feeding dead goldfishes to a cat. Pretty goldfishes ended up
like that.
People know cats eats goldfishes sometimes. But it was very
unusual that a human was willing to give goldfishes to a cat. Maybe
my little norm was broken that time. It was just shocking to me, like
the goldfishes are in shock in the picture.

When you come back

He fall from the sky and disappeared in the flame.

I pray for you to reach to the highest place in the sky.
I believe you will come back this place again.
As a flower in a desert, the first rain drop falls on the mountain, and the
deep mist covers the valley.
I do not you at all, but I sense you will be here again.
We will not recognize each other, but we will pass each other.
God, give me more strength to keep my eyes open.
I want you to hear my pray.
I hold him in my arms and make his pain away.
I do not you, but I will remember you.
I am far away from you, but you will tell me when you come back.
You will be my first warm south breeze in the spring.
When you come back, I will notice
you.

HB216: Workplace Abusive Conduct Amendments

She hopes this is a bad dream. She dreams it ends today. But she does not
know when it will end. The black shadow attacks her, like a crocodile pulls
prey into the water. Her hopeless eyes look up the sky. Her body sinks into
the water. She cannot win. Even though she survives today, the black
shadow comes back tomorrow.
Why? Why? Why is she?

A black shadow comes to her and the shadow yells at her. Come to the
office! Her face is down and she drugs herself to the office. She knows what
will happen there. The black shadow shreds her for joy. She does not know
why such a thing happens to her. The shadow shoots her with non-stop
criticism every day.
Why? Why? Why is she?
This is her routine, every day. She tries to explain or answer, but the black
shadow does not give her a break. The black shadow wants to execute her.
The black shadow smiles when beats her. The black shadow satisfies when
her tears falls. Then, releases her. She comes back from the office. Her tears
are not dried yet.
Why? Why? Why is she?

She is in the office now. She know today is her last day, because she says so.
Lets roll! Another kind of shadow rubs hands together. Her execution
starts. She remembers the black shadow rattles on without pausing for break.
She is escorted to the door, and disappears. She does not see anybody at all
today.
Why? Why?
Why is she?

When you come back

I wrote this poem for the Jordan pilot who was murdered by ISIS.
It broke my heart when I saw the murder on the internet. I felt deep
empathy towards to the pilots family. I cried when I wrote this poem. I
felt the pilot was a close person to me even though, I have never met
him. I wanted write a letter to tell him what I want him in the future.
Mrs. Bickmore suggested me to add my feeling to the poem, but it
was hard for me to describe my feelings. I was filled with only sadness
and strongly hoped the pilot comes back later. I am a kind of Buddhist,
and it is natural to think the person will reborn later. I dont know he
will be a human again. It will be hard for me to recognize him, if he
becomes a human. But I can recognize him if he becomes a spring
breeze. I can remember him when spring comes every year. I will feel
like he hugs me, when spring breeze wraps me. And I will remind
myself what is right or wrong as a human being.

HB216: Workplace Abusive Conduct Amendments

I have experienced and eye witnessed workplace bullying. My
former co-workers and I tried to help the victim, but it was an
organized bullying, so we could not stop the bullying. We felt powerless
and frustrated about the unfairness.
The manager of the former workplace looked like a human, but I
felt strange when I met the manager. I tried to deny my gut feeling first,
that time, but I know my gut was telling me a right thing. The manager
was like a reptile, especially the eyes. I still remember the managers
eyes were reflecting or absorbing light like reptiles eyes, when the
manager was torturing people. I had to add a picture of crocodiles eye.

I think the managers reptile brain works all of the time.

Reptile Brain
The reptilian brain is the most ancient of the brains. It
has two hemispheres, just like the neocortex, and it may
be that they relate functionally to the left and right
hemispheres of the neocortex.
First and foremost among the traits generated through
the reptilian brain is the drive to establish and defend
territory. This is fueled by an extremely potent "will-topower", exemplified among lizards by the ritual behavior
of two rainbow lizards competing for dominance. These
animals have beautiful colors and like many lizards, use
headbobbing and pushups in assertive, aggressive,
courtship and greeting displays. (Icke)

There is a woman who wants compete with me. I am not

interesting in to get a higher position at work. Her mission is to show
me that she is better than me. I started ignoring her, and she tries
harder to get my reaction. This is a poem what I feel when she comes
up to me. The original was shorter, and Mrs. Bickmore suggested me to
write longer. Writing negative poems drains my energy. I wrote many
negative things during my PTSD treatment. I realized that I was filled
with so many negative things, and still now I am filled with negativity.
When can be free from my thinking pattern? It is hard for me to
write cheerful poems.

Conclusion
I revised my poems in many ways. I added pictures which I think
fit to each poem. I changed font, so each poem shows more personality. I
changed the paper color, so it will be easy to read. I noticed that I am
good at writing my experiences. I think this is my strength, and I can
be honest to the whole world.

Work Citation
Icke, David. "THe Raptilian Brain." The Reptilian Brain. Web. 2 May 2015.
<http://www.bibliotecapleyades.net/sumer_anunnaki/reptiles/reptiles14.htm>.