By Tom H. Brooks 3

And this is STREET JOURNAL 76…!!!


Nice and short for your limited time and attention spans…

(I`ll spoon feed it to ya…)





March 30, 2014

Tokyo, Japan


The rain is coming down today, it`s coming down hard.  There`s nowhere to go and nothing to do but sit here.  At times like this, I tend to sink into deep thought.  I think about life and death and the mysteries of eternity.  I wonder why we`re all here and where we`re going.  I think about my life and all the things I`ve done.  I think about my inevitable death and it hangs over me like a black shadow creeping.  I watch the raindrops slide down the window like crystal-clear crawling things, rolling with obscure purpose.  Each raindrop contains a tiny world within, just like each blood cell circulating through our bodies.  We stomp through this world, never knowing what`s going to happen next.  We blunder along, going somewhere.  We do our jobs, we kill our time trying to survive and, in contrast, we use our time wisely when we create, when we leave something, some piece of ourselves behind for somebody else to appreciate.  Maybe that`s what it`s all about…CREATION.  To give more than we take.  To contribute to the endless river of time.  To carve our words into water and let them join the infinite flow…like the rain falling down.  I have no answers but I do know that there is some gravity to this thought and my mind melts into the gray sky as I stare out the window with persistent determination…I will continue to find my way.  And you will find yours.  There is nothing else…





The night rolls over me

like a black wave


Tumbling and turning

into deep mystery


My mind is flooded with the

overwhelming torrent of memory


As if looking through a black diamond

the night splits into senseless fragments –


– sharp fragments that ruthlessly

carve words into my soul


Razor shards with which to

slice holes in the walls of the past


I`m looking through it now,

this metaphorical diamond in the night


A river of imagery flows

into the white light of morning


Until the sunlight shatters the spell

and the day explodes into a new dream…





Tokyo, Japan



“The future is a fabric of interlacing possibilities, some of which gradually become probabilities, and a few of which become inevitabilities, but there are surprises sewn into the warp and the woof, which can tear it apart.”


Anne Rice



“A sinister kid

8 years old

runs to meet his maker


a drop-dead sprint

from the day he`s born

straight into his maker`s arms


That`s me

That`s me


The Boy With the Broken Halo


That`s me

That`s me


The Devil won`t let me be…”


The Black Keys






How many songs must I sing

before my voice is heard?

How many times must I

scream at the stars in the sky?


So many of us

are lost in the void,

swallowed up in the great

devouring machine of existence





a number

a statistic-


Nothing but a

Twitter name

an email address

a Facebook account


A faded gravestone

in a vast field of the dead,

overgrown by weeds

and neglected

as it crumbles back into the dust


I would not have it be this way

I would not have it be so


You will hear my song

You will read my words

I will chisel my name

in the halls of eternity


I seek to know you

to speak for you

To give a voice to the crowd

where words of substance are lacking


I send my voice out across time

echoing through the ages

Calling out in unity

at the common table


Understanding that we all

fight this battle alone

but we are in the war






Tokyo, Japan







Reaching for the sky

lost in the clouds

A spire pointing to the heavens

a temple of deep thought

A lighted room at the top

firelight flickers on stone walls

A sanctuary for

a troubled mind


Far above the crowd

Separated from the unruly mob



the true test of one`s strength

To exist as an independent entity

To create new worlds

from the ashes of the past

To dig deep into the well

of memory and come up with gold



The rain falls outside

Thunder crashes with an unholy fury


After the storm there is nothing

but the quiet song of the night

The words whispering

through the chambers of the heart

Blood flowing through the veins

and onto the page

The Citadel rises into the darkness

a black shadow against a blacker sky


The lighted room at the top

like an all-seeing eye in the void…





Tokyo, Japan




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