Showing posts with label childhood. Show all posts
Showing posts with label childhood. Show all posts

Friday, 22 June 2012

Talking Pixs


In between “work”, I’ve been revisiting old issues of Marvel’s Avengers, covers and reading the storyline synopsis.

Somewhere in my memory banks, there are off on recollections of plotlines and intermittent appearances (cameo?) of non-traditional characters including Starfox and Thanos (to name but two).

I know I can easily Google the keywords for possible hits, but, heck, the (online) flipping through of each issue is way more fun.

(Of course, it would be even better if I actually had the physical copies in mint / near mint condition TQVM!)

Anyway, re-reading the old issues reminded me again why I fell in love with the (old days) Japanese Manga, especially Kazuo Koike’s Lone Wolf and Cub and Kasuhiro Otomo’s Akira & Domu.

Typical of Americans (apologies for the crude generalization, but it is true’s isn’t it?), their comics are talky.

They yak and yak.

The villains, for example, will often explain at great lengths whatever nefarious scheme to conquer the world / destroy the Avengers / carry of Mantis / rule the universe etc etc.

Or they’ll try to wear down each other with words before fights: “I will pummel thee with my bone-crushing, boulder smashing, steel bending fists of death!!!” against “Bah!! I have withstood the death dealing / worlds’ destroying / armada wrecking rays of XXXXX that you puny fists will be less than nothing!!!”

Something like that.

Like I said, great fun. Corny but fun.

The aforementioned Japanese works though worked differently as the story flows almost seamless with the words complementing instead of telling the tale.

I was literally dumbstruck when I picked up my first ever copy of Koure Okami (Lone Wolf & Cub), reveling in the simplicity of its storytelling.

Before that (remember I was still quite  teen then, ya), I didn’t realized that you could actually gets the pictures to tell the story.

Of course, the modern day Avengers have curbed (not totally, though) most of these, urm, flair.

And, yes, they are still great fun.


Monday, 16 May 2011

Dandelion Dreams

Cool winds buffeted her as she ran the length of the field
Silk ribbons trailing, her hair, free, flowing
Carefree, she tiptoes over dandelion patches
Patches of whitish yellow pastiches in a canvas green

Clouds, intermittent, pockmarked a bright, bright day
A swirling kaleidoscope of a shadow light show
Rustling leaves hushed tones a bare din of vocal delights
The high notes - laughter, cheery and spontaneous

A tree older than the day’s age stood solitary
Casting a shade oval in shape a comforting cape
Of when the sun is too hot and the wind to cold
To kinder a simmer in play, a slowing of pace and wonder

Lying atop a carpet of grassy snatch untrimmed
She imagines – no, dreams – of butterflies flitting
Jostling and hustling, a whirly merry flight
Flower to flower, stem to stem in touches so slight

She closes her eyes and wishes the day would stay
For second to crawl, minutes to stretch, hours unending
Dawn to noon, to sunset to night as the sun and moon
Exchanges roles, forever saying hello and bidding goodbye

A voice, familiar, a touch recognized so tender
“Time to awake, daughter to shower, to pray
To don your uniform, all crisps and proper
Lest we miss the chime of the first bell ring

There was no field, a duvet the cool, cool grass
A dream? Alas, a sweet passing too soon
“But dad, isn’t today a Saturday, a day to stay
With you, mom, and siblings; to work and play?

Yes, dear, it was but for the decree
Of added hours, a burden heaped on shoulders barely able
The world is in a rush, you see, already behind we lag
You have to cover thus for the years we slacked

She sighs slowly
Her steps ginger
(but) the towel is smooth
(thus) the dream lingers…