MISHIMA
Wandering through Asakusa,
half-lost among the souvenirs
and plenitudes of food,
being helped at every turn
by locals who would smile in English
then walk an extra block or two
to show you on your way,
the past began not quite to fit,
or certain bits of it:
the seppuku, the kamikaze,
the samurai’s apology,
the cult of honour and of blood.
My second cousin, Robert,
during World War II,
was in its last few days beheaded
at one stroke of a sword,
apparently in admiration
for bravery displayed
while sewing from a small canoe
limpet mines on cargo ships
in wartime Singapore.
It makes me think of Mishima,
who published thirty books and more,
was talked of for the Nobel,
his suicide (with four disciples)
when his would-be coup had failed,
the soldiers he addressed that morning
jeering all he said,
knowing in their guts his dream
had truly gone forever.
What followed was unthinkable,
anachronistic and yet real —
and took four strokes to finish.
Fifty-four years on
the prose of Yukio still shines—
and is, I’d guess, not unfamiliar
to those who in Asakusa
with so much courtesy and kindness
showed us on our way.
half-lost among the souvenirs
and plenitudes of food,
being helped at every turn
by locals who would smile in English
then walk an extra block or two
to show you on your way,
the past began not quite to fit,
or certain bits of it:
the seppuku, the kamikaze,
the samurai’s apology,
the cult of honour and of blood.
My second cousin, Robert,
during World War II,
was in its last few days beheaded
at one stroke of a sword,
apparently in admiration
for bravery displayed
while sewing from a small canoe
limpet mines on cargo ships
in wartime Singapore.
It makes me think of Mishima,
who published thirty books and more,
was talked of for the Nobel,
his suicide (with four disciples)
when his would-be coup had failed,
the soldiers he addressed that morning
jeering all he said,
knowing in their guts his dream
had truly gone forever.
What followed was unthinkable,
anachronistic and yet real —
and took four strokes to finish.
Fifty-four years on
the prose of Yukio still shines—
and is, I’d guess, not unfamiliar
to those who in Asakusa
with so much courtesy and kindness
showed us on our way.
Geoff Page, OAM, is based in Canberra and has published twenty-five collections of poetry as well as two novels and five verse novels. His recent books include In medias res (2019), 101 Poems: 2011-2021 (2022) and Penultima (2024), all from Pitt Street Poetry.