Category: Thomas Caterer

The God of Change

~ Yanagi Studios

The god of change is the god of death
I am here to serve
I am here to serve

The restless spirit is roaming, roving, writhing
And booze won’t calm it down
And drugs won’t calm it down
And sex won’t calm it down
The restless spirit is crying out, tormented
Pleading to gods, who don’t yet answer

The god of death is the god of change
I want to serve
I need to serve

This life’s but a moment in an endless sea
the blink of an eye
all this fuss we make for a moment
for a blink of an eye
all the tears we shed just for this

The god of change is the god of life
The god of change rules in both domains
I will serve, it’s inevitable in the end

Organised Fun is the Best Fun

~ Yanagi Studios

By Thomas Caterer

The righteous and indignant youth
survey their surroundings
They’ve not been here long
Fresh still
They accurately surmise;
‘It’s all fucked, everything here is fucked’

Spirits dropped onto another plain
Spirits dropped into another game
Kind and cruel, good and evil, together again
Bound again to build cultures,
civilisations, communities

The body and its needs are a distraction
Distracting from attempts at escape
Escape or growth?
And yet when I feel outside of mine
I plead for the gods to kindly put me safely back in
Just because nothing matters
doesn’t mean things don’t matter

Goldilocks, Guangxi, and Straight Whiskey

~ Yanagi Studios

An existential panic
in a Japanese restaurant
pacing up and down
standing up, sitting down

Later a friend reassured me
‘you think you’re just flesh and bones?’
He said he didn’t fear death; as in the void
rather the punishment for his sins

If I can be convinced of a spirit realm
even the malevolent ones can give comfort
for what their existence implies

When I feel stressed I think of the Goldilock’s principle,
the double slit, the hard problem, and unanswerable whys
I try to calm down without relying on intoxication
drinks yes but also images; explicit, and addicting

I read about Guangxi in the Sixties
and was depressed for days
how could human treat humans that way?
How can such evil exist?

I need to believe consciousness and spirit are central to the cosmos
I need to believe good and love will triumph
I need to believe there is justice, and peace to be found
otherwise the game’s not worth the candle

And then I’ll buy a rope, a hero’s cape, and set a screen to explicit
for wrist slashing is too dramatic, too much of a pain barrier to overcome

Charlie Boy

~ Yanagi Studios

By Thomas Caterer

Charlie boy, he walks out of the club
a big lad, danced not quite majestically
but joyfully bounced as erratic limbs
floundered and flailed

A smirking man in the smoking area
smiles cruelly in his direction
a cutting remark on good lad Charlie’s body
or dance moves or something
elicits mirth from the surrounding sycophants

Charlie smiles warmly and approaches Smirker
puts an arm on his shoulder, Smirker’s surprised
‘listen son, it’s no good is it eh? This mean-spirited lark?
You’re missing out on a chance to grow, there’s a tonne of
spiritual work ahead for you eh? But you gotta give it up, to be so
mean of spirit, it won’t help you or anyone, son’

Charlie goes back in for bass and beer
and to dance freely, unburdened; Zen raving
Smirker feels a chill roll down his spine
his face burns red, ‘faggot’ he spits
the sheep snigger

Ben Gives Julia Flowers

~ Yanagi Studios

Ben hands over a bouquet of flowers
placing them carefully into Julia’s hands
‘women like flowers right?
they remind you of death
but you don’t fear it like men do
women are real troopers like that’

Julia lifts them to her nose, takes an approving sniff
Ben remarks;
‘they say women like flowers because they like
to be reminded of their mortality, they don’t fear entropy,
not the way men do’

‘Who are they?’ she asks
‘you know, they, the people.
the cycle plays out, we all have a short time here
just the like the flowers, we can all be beautiful
expressions of life for a while, then we wither and die
just like the flowers
They say women like them for these reasons and more
they like the transience’

‘Thank you’ says Julia grimacing as she takes the flowers
‘least I can do’ Ben smiles and adds ‘you’re the ones who go
through giving birth, and menstruation, what warriors eh?
Least I can do, to express my appreciation for it all’ Julia places them in a vase with water
she sighs at the sight of a fallen petal
‘already beginning the end I see
Shoulda got me a bloody cactus instead’

Inevitable

~ Yanagi Studios

Why are you bothered about death
if you’re such a Buddhist?
Scared that if embodied beings can be malevolent
as well as benevolent
the same can be said for disembodied beings?
That is a troubling thought

For all the pain, suffering, and senseless cruelty
of this world
I still find a lot I love about this world
and do not want to leave it
nor leave my body
and yet I am becoming more profoundly aware
that one day I will die

It hits harder now after a series of death panics
and the disturbing sensation of being out
of one’s body, occurring increasingly frequently
that yes it is true, your body will rot, and your
consciousness will be unceremoniously ripped
from your precious flesh
it is inevitable
always in the end, inevitable

Nothing

~ Yanagi Studios

By Thomas Caterer

I was in a club called DEF in Japan
I tried talking to the barmaid about death
She asked why I was thinking about that
I replied I always am
I thought of a friend from way back when
I can’t think of anything profound to say about it now
He should be here
He’s not
Well, I see all these young dancing people
The kids are happy
That makes me happy
French kissing and vibrant sexual energy
Who could ever want to hurt them?
I want to protect them
I think of those who’d want to hurt them
and feel angry
They, like us all, are children of god
Manifestations of the divine
and they may not know it yet
but bless them, they are so afraid
We are all here in our ape shape
Beings of consciousness
Siblings in the cosmos
Let us choose love and compassion
I think of my friend, gone too soon
I have nothing profound to say about it
I have nothing

Harmony

~ Yanagi Studios

The ying and yang need to be in harmony
we understand this is true
from a distance one views two of another species
sensually, violently entwined
it can’t tell whether they’re fighting or fucking
they are not of the same kind
closeness expressed in an intimate touch
the harmony of spheres, the unity of opposite forces
you know it is true
we need to balance things to feel peace
and end the unneeded suffering

Tendrils

~ Yanagi Studios

All the bright and joyful memories you make
you may think on for a few seconds here and there
lives you’ve impacted, people who love you
these come to mind when conjured very deliberately
in a meditation, or when trying to calm down in a vortex
of death related panic;
existential crisis again

And yet so easily the hurtful thoughts arise unbidden
uninvited, or at least so you say, lamentations, regrets,
accusations against the self
the negativity bias is a bitch, for sure
these thoughts wrap themselves like vines perhaps,
or cold, icy tendrils, constricting your mind

The egoistic concerns, the envy, the fear
letting this go, and breathing in, holding it, breathing out
realise violence is the last resort, a defence only
I don’t know why we’re here, but I’m growing surer of that at least
think on love, compassion, kindness
breathe in white light
breathe out black smoke
eventually feel the grip of the tendrils relent

Whiskey Helps the Death Go Down

~ Yanagi Studios

It does seem to make sense to choose to make friends rather than enemies
when life is so full of pain and suffering, it’s almost to the brim
you may need sturdy warriors there in your last garrison
as they’ll need you in theirs
there are fates that seem so undeserved
I have fantasised often of revenge on those who’ve wronged me
yet there are horrors in this world, I haven’t the heart to wish on anyone
not even those who hurt me at my weakest
I’d rather keep things quick and clean
I don’t want any of these god’s creations to suffer
in a cage, a drawn out torture
what does it prove?
We know nature’s majesty
she has nothing to prove
so in the deepest pits
is a mercy shown?
A flood of hallucinogenic chemical to take away the pain?
Ease the transition of this child of God?
Is there some escape, always at hand, in the mind?

I love that sound
the crackle of the ice, as the liquor fills the glass
whiskey helps the death go down
the heat at the back of your throat is calming, meditative
it helps when your thoughts turn to the macabre
I can accept I’m ugly but I must be clean,
yes, always clean and pure, scrub away the day’s filth

As you walk down the sin-filled street at night
wondering and dreaming to yourself in an endless chatter of thought
there is an all-consuming black on the horizon of the cityscape
Forms appear out of the dark as you get closer
forms creeping to you, taking shape out of the nothingness
forms approaching you as you approach them
‘a metaphor for death?’ you wonder to yourself
an intoxicated grin upon your face