In The Land Of Lonely Men

IN THE LAND OF LONELY MEN

When freedom hits upon you
And you think just what to do,
It can sometimes be startling
You'll not know things you thought you knew.

My quest for more perspective
Will be forever deeper than my knees
Because time, and time again, good sir,
I miss the forest for the trees.

I sit here in this alcove,
An ash tray is my closest thing;
It's putrid contents (something floats)
Would just remind me of the sting.

I feel it, FELT it, I should say,
For many turnings of the Earth;
I've felt it frequent recently
As I question my true worth.

The room behind me is quite sad,
I'll give its description a try
But fear not, my lovely reader,
I doubt my poem will make you cry.

Before I spot the closest thing
That exists behind my back
First I see the faintest pall
Of cigarette butts burnt and black.

The room itself is somewhat odd
The decor seeks to show and tell
Of some place a hundred years ago
Back when alarm clocks were a bell!

The brightest light's about forty watts,
So its darker in here, too
But let me tell you more of it
As the pall I can see through.

The TV blares to fill the room
But I can't understand the show
Everyone seems to be watching it
Are they attracted by the glow?

The watchers, they're a usual lot
"Homogeneous" best puts it flat
And they all wear same blue PJs
And the description stops at that!

I am once again the oddity,
I don't fit the usual bill,
There are some things that I don't do
And somethings that I will.

I'm at the Capsule in Nagoya,
There are Japanese on all sides
Should a gaijin ever be spotted
It's soon enough before he hides.

I got here just two days ago,
And I leave it in the morn',
So from my arrival until now
I can be believed to warn:

The big-city capsule can be a lonely place
One of the loneliest on this globe,
The basic plotline of the place
Is lonely right down to the robe.

You can make the check-in easily,
You don't need to utter a word
Bust point to a pictured laminate,
Nod or shake to what you heard.

With key in hand and shoes off now
Migrate luggage to your locker,
Dump your stuff as best you can
So far none of its a shocker.

Pull out only what you need
Then tramp on through the pall,
And on your way just notice
The other inmates in the hall.

There are five things they'll be doing,
One in which each seems to engage:
TV, smoking or sleeping,
Playing games or turning a page.

The games, it is important to note
Are not the Western style;
They're gambling or playing on a phone
Some useless thing that takes a while.

Trundling on to the capsule suite
We find the quarters for our sleep
And we're thrilled to see the tatters
In the blind to let some peep.

I've done a Capsule place before,
Back in Asakusa, Tokyo,
And I tell you in this next stanza
Where I would rather go.

The TV must be paid for,
The partition, it has holes,
The Capsule itself is just too short
To stretch my head out from my soles.

Enough about the capsules,
Just this one more then my Point!,
The bathroom also must be paid
But its not too bad a joint.

(Yes, we're all butt-naked,
And it gets hard not to look,
But quite often its even harder
To see bigger than a hook!)

It's a depressing place, it sounds,
But the tunnel has a light:
First of all I can proudly say
that from here it can get bright!

I've seen the way the men here live
(And some DO LIVE HERE, I'm sure)
I've seen how far a place can drop
Even once its hit the floor.

In all my time here in this place
I've gone batshit by myself
I knew there was a problem
And it could soon affect my health.

There's no-one here to talk to
I therefore hunted to extreme,
I even called my loveless ex,
'Coz things are nicer than they seem.

For her part I will say just this
There is no room for me at all
She'd no sooner comfort me
Than she would kiss this wall.

It seemed heartless at the time,
And even now it's hard to say,
But it was a pretty nasty talk
And we had it just yesterday!

I saw a movie here tonight,
At a cinema nearby,
It's message was to be aware
You need a co-pilot when you fly.

My Dreams are still quite possible
Though I'm yet to find the way
And it's not going to happen tomorrow,
But I'll stumble on it, one day.

I know inside I'm trying
But I'll always go off the track
And it's not the tracklessness that is
The monkey on my back.

Perspective, once again, it rings,
That word I always find;
The problem's not the direction
It's what's playing on the mind.

I viewed this place so loathsomely,
I swear, I nearly cried
The feeling hijacked my holiday
No matter how hard I tried!

But then today I did some things,
Some things that I can hark,
A science museum and a movie,
And I snuck into a Park!

My blood was pumping once again,
The malaise was gone and done,
I got back my Adventure!
My Holiday back I'd won!!!

So even now, as I sit and write,
And the stench of 'backy fills my nose
I don't have to be unhappy
Even though this place really blows.

I've learnt a lot from being here,
And some I already know
The rest I'll figure out some day
Long after I will go.

AND tomorrow, I am off again!
I'll leave Nagoya, back on my trip!
I'll travel on a slow train,
And in Kyoto, let 'er rip!!!!!!!!!!!

Tom O'Keefe.