Spring Rain

February 28th

I heard the rain

Raining steadily.

In a wheelchair

I can't go to work.

The end of the month is the busy time.

I'm sorry for not reporting to.

Naoko ma came over during her lunch break to

Heat up chicken cooked in tomato sauce.

I'm grateful.  It's delicious.

I ate up.

I'm grateful for Mari, who cooked it for me.

I ate croquettes, too.

I haven't had a lunch for a while.

It's nice to eat.

Even unstable, I need to go to the kitchen more often

To heat up meals, not to lose weight more.

The housekeeper came.

The apartment became spic and span.

I am grateful.

In the freshly cleaned apartment,

We gathered; Ms. Grasshopper, Naoko ma, KP and I.

We ate stew, octopus balls, pan fried udon noodle, meat balls with black vinegar sauce.

Beer, Sake, makgoli

Ms. Grasshopper and Naoko ma brought.

The music I used to listened to when I was healthy

Was playing.

The memory of then came back.

With two legs I walked.

I went to New York, Germany, Canada and Bahamas.

I traveled all over the world.

Ski, skate, snorkel.

I tried everything

Sprightly I was.

It's raining steadily in the afternoon of February.

I closed my eyes silently.

The sprightly me is laughing.

The sprightly me is running.

The rain was beating the window pane hard and loud.
I opened my eyes to see the same white ceiling.
The sprightly me is no more.
The sprightly me can't laugh.

How I could accept this fate
Tell me, spring rain.

Poem by Maria Franki

Edited and translated by J. Ujiie

©2011

My Beloved

February 27th

Do you like to spend time with your beloved?
If you have free time, don't you feel like sprinting off to see your beloved?

What would you do if your beloved say,

"I'm engaged on weekends."
"You'd better find somebody else."

You look at your watch while we are together.
We are together and you have a family to go home to.

At 5 in the morning I awakened from my dream
Of my beloved
With a feeling of anxiety,
The light bulb left on was illuminating my sweating heart.
How long will I go to sleep by myself?

Today is Sunday,
It's a beautiful day of Tokyo Marathon.

I wait all the time
In the same space, in the same room, all the time, hour by hour.
It's natural since I can't walk, but
I wish I could have a rendezvous with you just like lovers do
Dressed up.

KP opened the door with the key.
I was getting ready to go out.
"Tokyo Marathon is going on.  It could be difficult to go to Ginza."
"I see.  Then I won't go."
It was so simple to justify not going out.

KP kindly did laundry for me.
His way was so different from my way.
Just as his ways to live and to think are so different from mine.
We argued over how to do laundry.

I can't walk, I can't cook, I can't clean, I can't shop.
I can't do anything.
I'm tired of not being able to do anything.
I'm tired of waiting all the time.
I want to die.  I don't want this body of lead.

I got upset again.
And took out on you.
I've decided to be good and
I was thoughtless.

We had a dinner at a restaurant nearby.
I drank two glasses of shochu.
KP drank beer and sake.
Both of us got flushed and tipsy

You have a family to go home to.
KP locked the door behind, leaving me collapsed on the floor,
Begging you not to go yet.  You've closed the door to my voice.

What happened?
The bathroom is flooded.
I can't clean it up.  I can't mop it up.
But I have to do something.
I have to figure out a way.

I managed to get paper towel, rags, and cleaning agent,
with my immobile body
I sat on the bathroom floor
Immobile legs, Immobile torso
Sweating, my body of lead cleaned the bathroom.
One hour passed.
I did it,  I cleaned it.  I pated myself on the back.

Well, now, how do I stand up.
With hands, I paddled
My body slithered on the floor with
My legs trailing twisted and crooked like an old tree.

I managed to get to the bed.
I hoisted my upper body up on the bed, then kicked against the wall, and pulled myself up
With the determination of a caterpillar wiggling out of the cocoon.
Gasping, suffering.
I needed to rest.

I wish KP were here, even for five minutes.
With him beside me, my misery would be a long distance away.
But you have a family to go home to.
My dream has come true.

The dream and the reality were mixed up in my immobile body.
Sorry for taking out on you.
You didn't do anything.

I hope tomorrow will be a good day
For you and for me.

Poem by Maria Franki

Edited and Translated by J. Ujiie

©2011

A Resident of the Forest

February 26th

10 in the morning, they came to install
More ambulatory aid poles.
10 poles in total now in my apartment.
Hang on to a pole to stabilize myself, then move to the next pole.
Walk like an orangutan in the forests,
Not as skillful, though.

MAMA came with bread and salad
Lunch together
Milk and almond bread go well together
I drank steaming milk
The wind moved the white curtain and I saw the blue sky.

3 PM
Quiet and alone
I rested my tired body.
I inhaled negative ion
I fell asleep
The blue sky gave place to the dusk.

Rrrrr Rrrrr electronic sound
Yuri called
She came with a backpack.
She came on a bicycle this time.

Fermented brown rice, salad of her own recipe, marinated codfish.
Potato salad with wood ear and salted herring roe.
It's indescribably good.
Home made pickles.
She uses the best ingredients.

itadakimasu.
Bon appetit.
Wine in the glass glowing red
We picked up where we left off two weeks ago.
We have many thing to talk.

Thank you for opening a skype account.
Let's talk on skype to make up my immobility.

The resident of the forests, orangutan, uses poles to go to bed
Good night.

Poem by Maria Franki

Edited and translated by J. Ujiie

© 2011

Hospital Again

February 25th

Appointment at 11:30
I left for the hospital with Naoko ma.
Following the white line on the floor
to the neurology department.
Examination room 127.

Tracheotomy, Yes or No.
What?
So soon?

Before the day comes when you can not swallow by yourself.
Before the day comes when you can not breathe by yourself.
You have to prepare for the day
While you still can.

Moving
Manpower
Paperwork
Change of the primary doctor
Change of thenursing care provider
Application for social services

The reality hit me.
I was putting off the end of my life.
My life was all in my mind.
I am a patient with intractable illness.
My eyes have been closed to the reality.

To organize my worldly possession is to organize the numbered days.

I stopped by at Tower Prince
The early blooming cherry blossoming in bright pink.
Spring like wind was blowing.
This could be the last time I see cherry blossoms.
I will miss it.

I ate meat spaghetti.
Vanilla Ice Cream and Ceylon Tea.
I have a healthy appetite and how could I organize the numbered days.

I reported to the office in the afternoon.
It's great to be able to work.
I'm doing great.

Kato came to pick me up
to my desk.
15:30
It's little too early but I ended today's work.

Naoko ma taught Kato how to handle the wheelchair.
It's pretty challenging to fold and open, while assisting unstable me to get on a taxi.

He accompanied me to home.
Coat, bag, this goes to the fridge, that goes to the bedroom.
Kato took a good care of me.
Sorry and Thanks.

Kato came back with sushi.
Chu-toro,  scallops, plum cucumber, abalone, arch, and sweat shrimp
Beer for Kato.
Lemon Chuhai for me.
Cheers.  It has been a long time.

Kato does R&D for a phermaceutical company.
Neurons and synapses, involuntary nerve and voluntary nerve.
Medical knowledge won't make my muscles move.
Inside the brain there is a space larger than the universe.
Micro and Macro converge somewhere in the universe.
I've thought so since I was a child.

Kato’s face grew red.
Beer face.
He cleaned up still while being red.

"You may send out an SOS to me at any time"
"Thank you Kato."

Poem by Maria Franki

Edited and Translated by J. Ujiie

©2011

To Work or Not to Work

February 24

The alarm went off.
The Moldau plays every five minutes.
I have to wake up.  I'm looking up at the ceiling.

Roll and roll over I want to.
My immobile body remains almost in the same position as it was last night.
I pulled the fabric of pajamas to tuck in my legs
Like a baby.

The third Moldau stated.
If I go back to sleep like a baby
I can get away from the suffering of standing up.

The morning shower I loved when I was healthy,
I hesitate to take now.
I can not lift my arms.  I can not stand firmly.
I can not shampoo my hair right.
I stare up at the ceiling, wondering.
The baby is thinking about living.

I forced myself to move a little.
I can't move a lot, but I can move a little.
oops a daisy,  I hold on to the head of the bed
and twisted my body up.
Oops a daisy, Up I am.

I opened the curtains and
Took a break
I took a shower and
Took a break.
The time is running out.
MAMA came to pick me up
Half past eleven.
I can go to work today!

I am full of drive to work.
What can I do with my immobile body?
There is the dichotomy between the two.

Is it better for one with an immobile body to stop working?
Is it better for one with drive to continue working?
I don't know.  I really don't know.

For a little longer, I will live like the water flowing the Moldau.
The stream runs through the forest, down the hill, and widen the river, creating the landscape of the homeland.

I came home with Naoko Ma and Maho.
We decided to go to have dinner at the Yellow Ox,
Friendly Korean moms ran.
For the first time, they came out of the kitchen.

On the night wind, the wheelchair moved flowing
I've done today's job.
The river of Moldau keep on running.
Oops a daisy, again tomorrow
I'll do my best.

Poem by Maria Franki

Edited and translated by J. Ujiie

©2011

World Clock

February 23rd

She walked down the stairs of the Suntry Hall
Unhurriedly, but not slowly,
Waving her hand, step by step.

My memory leaped 20 years back in time.
Like European, she hugged me right, left and right again.
My cheeks were pressed against hers, once two three, right and left.

Ben with his trademark bow tie against the blue sky
Looking good.
Mieko, when did I see you last time?
Those good old days.

Held tightly
I bit tears
I can't let it out.
Maria is quite contrary.

Sandwich, clam chowder, soup, we each ordered lunch.
We talked about New York, work, Hawaii, Kyoto, and my illness.
Her voice was the same, her smile, her timing to laugh was the same.
Our conversation outlived lunch
Just as it used to be.
We used to roll on the floor laughing in the lunch room.
We were young.

The destiny brought us together again.
The moment I felt like hugging myself,
Wind blew through the hall, bringing happiness to me.

What I wanted to tell Mieko for 20 years,
"I'm sorry that I couldn't see you more."

I took them to my office to introduce them to Ryan.
He used to live in Hawaii.

Somehow entire office gathered in a conference room.
Sam, Arron, Laura, Andrew, and Ryan
Mari and Ms. Grasshopper, too.
The conference room became lively.

I said hi to Miyata.
This office is my oasis.
I'll work hard.

Farewell to Mieko and Ben, leaving from
Tokyo station for Kyoto, then Hawaii bound tomorrow.

Azabu Juban, in front of my home, the real goodbye.
The last hug, I won't cry.
I found that without tears I felt sadder.

She left step by step
Unhurried but not slow.
The sky has turned pale purple.

KP came to wrap up the day.
We had dinner in a nearby restaurant.
It was delish.

KP got how to set up the negative ion generator
KP can do anything.
Since I said goodbye to Mieko today
I could say goodbye to KP tonight.
Walking together hand in hand I was happy.

World Clock, I added Hawaii.

Poem by Maria Franki

Edited and translated by J. Ujiie

©2011

I Can't Get Up

February 22nd

I simply could not get up.  That was how it was.
The body clad in a large lead dress was down and out.
The legs remained straight and still as a rod despite my effort.

The muscles without nerve signals are always on the break.
And those muscles dye before I know it.
Aware or not, little by little.

The dead zone of muscles are spreading.
Abdominal muscles, back muscles, muscles around waist,
No matter how much effort I put in to stand up firm,
Without holding onto something with both hands,
my body collapses and
Falls flat on the floor, like an abandoned puppet.

I fear for the day when I turn into a puppet.
The day will come for sure
Before long.  No, please!

MAMA came.
Broiled salted yellowtail, meat 'n potato, congee with pickled plums.
And tea was delicious.

I took a shower.
After taking a shower, I put on make up.
It cheers me up.

MAMA came again to
Do laundry for me
In silence.
She is not talkative.  She comes on time and she leaves when it's done.

MAMA has been weight training to push me in a wheelchair.
She prepares without words.  That's how she is.
Thank you.

KP came
He cleaned the humidifier, tidied cords for me not to trip over.
Negative ion infusion.  It works.
I feel ion entering into neurons.
I feel as if the neurons started to fire again and revived.

I will be able to get up tomorrow.
When KP comes, I can get up.
It's a wonder.
I feel hopeful.

With you I went to a neighborhood eatery.
It was delicious as usual.
KP ate up dishes for two.

Hope lies in tomorrow.
I will be able to get up with you someday.

Poem by Maria Franki

Edited and translated by J. Ujiie

©2011

A Room with Poles

February 21st

Showered in the morning sun, Good morning.
Feeling fresh out of shower
Wrapped in a soft towel, I am feeling good.

It was the day to have mobility aid poles installed.
The service person came at 12:00

He installed poles in pivotal points for me to use to move around
It made the room look smaller.
The color of nursing care products is so limited.
Brown and grey only?
It won't match the decor.
Not at all.

I want to live with a style, supple and light.  That's my credo.
So I am not very happy.
Tall, short or immobile, I want to choose from myriad of colors.

The pole was too thick for my hands to get a firm grip on.
It was for guys with large hands.
At the time when we can send people to the moon, why the pole is still too thick?
I want to see advancement in the modern science and ergonomics.

I met Nishimoto Producer and Matsumoto Producer joined.
We ate and drank.  I ate without holding back.  I talked candidly only to
Realize there was a mike to record our conversation.
By then it was too late.

Ms. Grasshopper and Camerawoman Naoko helped me for grocery shopping.
Camerawoman Naoko carried the shopping bag.
Ms. Grasshopper pushed my new wheelchair.
It rode very well

In a bistro near Patio
Ms. Grasshopper had beer
Mr. Nishimura had Pinot noire
I had Bloody Mary.

I got tipsy and happy.

Let's get together again.
Yes, Affirmative.

Poem by Maria Franki

Edited and translated by J. Ujiie

©2011

Sunset, Awareness, and a Curtain

February 20th

It's sad to draw a curtain after sunset.
So I closed it while there was still light left.

At nightfall, I am afraid to be aware that you won't come to see me today.
I don't want to see the sunset because it would break my heart.
If I don't see it,  I might be able to fool myself.
If I don't see ... if I don't see...
You might be coming to see me.

The windows of buildings were bright with artificial lights.
The sky were turning pitch black absorbing thousands of thought.
I am in a small room, dying into the darkness.
May I hang my faint hope on tomorrow?
With tomorrow, you will come.

I called MAMA
I want to eat meat 'n potato, miso soup and rice.
I may be a little late, but I'll be there.

MAMA came.
Meat 'n potato, sukiyaki, scrambled tofu.
Sushi.
Looks yummy.
I stuffed my heartbroken stomach with food.
I drank my disappointment away

When I got my heart broken, when I fell in love, then and now
MAMA was and is always with me.
It will be all right if you eat, she always says.
You sure will be thinking differently in 10 years, she always says.

In 10 years?

I won't be here in 10 years.
I will be dead
Before long.

It was my soul and body dying into the pitch black sky.
I was made aware of, again, tonight.
I wish I could be with you
Before my life is absorbed into the night sky.

Poem by Maria Franki

Edited and translated by J. Ujiie

©2011

Haircut and Mari

February 19th

Grey sky.
Snip snip
I am getting a haircut.
My hair is falling down.
Cut it short, make it spike up at the crown.
Give me a style wild enough to survive in a jungle.

I got a call from Mari.
What? You are in the neighborhood?
Come to see me.  I'm getting a haircut.

Very short.
I look good in the white coat.
Wild color.
Cool.

Mari pushed the wheelchair.
Somehow, I knew this day would come.
Strange feeling of deja vu
I knew Mari since NY.
Long and deep friendship.

Mari said,
"Let's go to New York."
"What?  In this body?"
"We can do it," she said,
"Don't you want to see the place you lived again?"
"You can see people who you want to see again."

I hesitated
with this body and at this time?
"Let's go."
"I don't know."

Together with Ms. Grasshopper and Mari,
We head down to an izakaya.
We ate, drank, laughed, cried. Girls talk blossomed.

Home.
Girls talk over Tea and Rice crackers.

Midnight talk
New York home coming is taking form.
The project has started.
I have to race against time
'Cause I don't have much time left.

Mari and I started planning.
I am taking my chance.
Can I make it while there still is life?

Poem by Maria Franki

Edited and translated by J. Ujiie

©2011

Return to Work

February 18th

The morning seemed to be quietly waiting for me to wake up.
The light of dawn overflowing, fine beads of moisture on window pane expanded slightly
Round and anticipating good morning.
I can return to work.

11:45 I heard Naoko wiggle the key
The filming crew came along
"You better have a meal before going to work."
I took a bite and two.  I didn't have an appetite.
My hands were shaking.  Is it the sign of my illness advancing?
I am returning to work finally.  Give me a break.

MAMA came.
I am going to work in a wheelchair for the first time.
This is the break and this is the stopper.
Everybody was new to a wheelchair.

We were getting closer to the office.
The street I used to commute to the office on a bus.  Familiar shops and stores.
We got off the taxi, and took an elevator directly to my office.

Hugs, hand shakes.  Smiles on familiar faces.
I will never forget today.  The day of gratitude.
Thank you all
Thank you, work.
Conversations in Japanese and English mixed.

I switched om Mac to greet the familiar
snow leopard
Nice to see you again,  Mac.

Making copies.
Go to the printer to get paper.
Using the shredder.
Using a pen.
Reaching for the phone.

It was not the same.
I couldn't do easily what I used to do.
I could manage to do in slow motion.
If I could manage to do, I could manage to work.
What I could, I would try to do by myself.

Colleagues came to greet me at my desk.
I joked as usual.
I can be myself here.
We are so close.
I love to work here.

The sunset tinted the air orange and announced closing time.
A day in my life.  My work.
I left for home.

Cheers.

It's 2:25 AM
Naoko, Maho, MAMA should be dreaming by now.
Thank you all for helping me to go to work today.

The track is leading to the future
Round, large, and uninterrupted.

Poem by Maria Franki

Edited and translated by J. Ujiie

©2011

KP

February 17th


I want out
I want out to get some air,
To breath in and breath out fully 
Through the nose like in a PE class
I haven't had air for 4 days.


I can't walk, therefore I can't be out.
There is no room for argument.


Ginza, museums, movies, hot springs , even just waling
I can't do by myself.


KP has caught cold.
I hope it is not flu.
Really, I wish him to get well soon.
In health, in sickness, when ordinary, when slightly eccentric 
I always cherish you, KP.
You may get mad once in a while.


Usually robust and 
Even with cold, you brought me take-out dumplings.
Thank you.


Tomorrow I will return to work.
I will be out.  I will see people.  I will hear their voices.
The camera will be on.


I wish I could walk to the office.

Poem by Maria Franki

Edited and translated by J. Ujiie

©2011

I was Supposed to Return to Work

I rather played it safe. I deciced this morning. 
I could have if I pushed myself.
But I didn't want to develop a fever again.
I never want to come down with a fever, ever.  Who does?


Rrrrrr Rrrrrr the phone rang.
Naoko was coming over during her lunch break
In company with the film crew.
They were ready to shoot my returning to work.


The lunch was on camera.
It's rolling and rolling.
Bed room, kitchen, bathroom... Privacy ptotection is off for now.


How do you capture the life beling lived here?
How do you capture the truth of my heart?
How do you capture the pathos of pathology?
How do you capture the feelings buried under?
What color do my tears appear on film?
I dare you to document and tell the story of my illness and the story of my heart.


Ms. Grasshopper,
Thank you for placing things within my reach
For an immobile motor-mouth as I am.

Poem by Maria Franki

Edited and translated by J. Ujiie

©2011

What You Are, What You Eat...

Wandering back and forth between the dream and the reality, 
Lingering in the state between sleeping and waking
A car door opened and closed and I came back fully.


Flushed from the fever, sticky with sweat, 
Which shrouded my body.
The night of fever has broken.


Thirsty.
No water within my reach
I saw a bottle several feet away.
No energy to move.
I wondered how a squid would feel while being dried.


The doorbell rang.
It's MAMA!
She brought udon noodles.


Slurp. The squid re-hydrated.
Salty and steaming hot
I ate in silence.
MAMA was watching over me.


Strawberry, chilled in the fridge
A round strawberry
I thank the grower, I thank the distributor, it is delish.


The doorbell rang, again.
The housekeeper came
Thank you for laundering sheets.
Thank you for washing dishes.
Thank you for tidying up
Thank you for mopping the floor.


It's a busy day for the doorbell.
The doorbell rang.
Naoko joined me for lunch.
Tablemates boost my appetite.
Cheered up I asked for more.
Life force is in eating.


The business is brisk.
The doorbell rang.
KP came in the afternoon with
A pink electric pot, my favorite color, the shade of sea shell.
You can drink tea when you want.
Yes.
Thanks to the electric pot
Yes, and it's thanks to you.


The housekeeper came again.
Thank you for looking after me.


KP came again.
I'm grateful to see him many times today.  I AM happy.
He came, bringing sushi for me.
Yet, something is wrong... I feel feverish again.
My favorite hotate sushi, I only ate three pieces.


Wheezing
Short of breath
My chest was full with suffering; my heart was empty.
The night was approaching 
The night I would sleep alone.


I always stumble before saying a goodbye.
The heart is hollowing every second.
The heart is cooling every second.


While the water in the pink sea shell is steaming warm.


The sound of a closing door, the last one for today 
was the sound of sadness.

Poem by Maria Franki

Edited and translated by J. Ujiie

©2011

Feverish on St. Valentine's Day

February 14th


102 degree F.  I had a chill.
I laid my body down on the cool floor,
To calm myself down
And then found that three hours had past since the first chill.


Yesterday my sense of time was paralyzed.
I wriggled and writhed like a snake to find my place
In my own room, where I felt I didn't belong to.


The state of mind was gnawing at the body.
I couldn't even give a cough to loosen phlegm
ALS has gnawed away my abdominal muscles.
This is serious.


I'd better sleep early, hoping I would be well tomorrow.
I know the best medicine is to see the loving look in your face. 
I wonder what your eyes are looking at now.


Only if I could bury everything in a dream.
I am suffering.


If it hits 104 degree, I'll go to hospital.

Poem by Maria Franki

Edited and translated by J. Ujiie

©2011

Turbulent Mind, Crawling body (ALS)

February 13


I carried my immobile legs slowly to the curtains, 
With careful steps not to fall down.


I opened the curtains, with utmost care
Not to lose a balance.
The blue sky was lucid;
Yesterday's snow was history.
The heaven's mood changes fast.


This morning, I was eagerly waiting someone's visit.
This illness has taught me the joy of waiting.
You bring me the air outside.
You take me out to the world outside.


A grate of a key in the lock sings a song of love to me.
From the otherside of the door, you bring the outside world.
Books, newspaper clippings, and magazines.
You know what? The ultimate gift is your voice.
It teaches me many things:
Stock market, politics and economy
Even a gossip about the neighborhood greengrocer sounds erudite.
I love, love and love you lots.
You make my world expand.


And I fell out with my beloved.


For the first time I crawled across the room.
I crawled and crawled to get to the mobile phone and
I hit my chest with a step.
It was a sad and lonely crawl not like the crawling of a baby.
I crawled ... like a worm.


On the mobile phone I crawled to reach to 
I found my call was blocked.
My voice was cut off from the endless communication line.


My mind started to fall apart
My chest ached where it hit the step.
I was cut off from the world.
I was cut off from you.
My mind screamed, wandering in the darkness.
Have you left for good?
I have another year to live and you say goodby now?


I don't know what to do.  I am at a loss.
Is your love history?
As yesterday's snow disappeared.


The mood of the heaven and the mood of you are unpredictable
It changes fast and it opens the door sadly.
A grate of a key in the lock sings a song of love to me.
Once
Twice
Three times, and many more.
I want to hear the doorbell ring
for the rest of my life.


Tomorrow, I hope I will see a blue sky.

Poem by Maria Franki

Edited and translated by J. Ujiie

©2011

Humidifier

February 12


Today's dinner, the first meal of the day.
Sushi to go.
I've become their regular customer.
I can go there in a wheelchair, a minute walk from, No, a minute roll from my place.


Pine, Bamboo, or Plum sushi platter; the price decreases in Yen 500 increment.
Today I opted for the mid-priced bamboo platter.
3000 Yen.
The left over of wine from the last night paired perfectly with
The cheese.
Today's happiness received, part one.


I received a humedifier as a gift.
Thank you, K.P.
I tried it out immediately.
There is a trick.


Operated along with a negative ions generator, it would boosed the generation of negative ions and it will have a positive effect for ALS.


It was Mr. K's advice.


There is no medication prescribed for ALS.
Patients have no choice but to try out whatever people say works 
And they try at any cost.


A negative ions generator
A humidifier
My can-do attitude
And KP's determination.


Those are all I need.
On switching the humidifier on
Warm steam started to rise
The glass window blocking off the cold outside air started to sweat
I sensed the temperature rise.


The outside is so cold, the inside is warm.
I wished the warm tranquility would last forever.
I wished with my whole heart.
Today's happiness received, part two.


At the head of my solitary bed
I fell asleep holding the steam.
I wish with my whole heart your love would not melt away.

Poem by Maria Franki

Edited and translated by J. Ujiie

©2011

Dinner Together

February 11th


The electronic sound of ring tone went off.
It was Yuri for the first time in half a year.
She offered me to have dinner together.
I haven't had anything since morning.  My stomach rejoiced.


It's nice to wait for somebody to come.
It buoyed the depressed feelings up a little.
Feelings sink, lift, and shut down, ever transient.


Yuri came with a big back pack full of gourmet food.
Open cultured vegetables smell the earth and the sun.
Free range chicken broiled with salt, the salt was from French coast
Yuri is active on the international stage.
The salt from Okinawa also taste good, but
I have a weakness for French, 'Cause I am a country girl!


The stomach of the myoatrophic proved to be robust.
I've eaten it up and am ready for wine.


Oh, I remember now.
When I broke up with Bob,
Yuri came with food.
It was tuna over rice and red wine


The loneliness of being alone then when Bob left and the loneliness of being alone now with ALS,  which is lonelier?  I asked myself.
Well, 
It's now, of course.
ALS includes death.
The divorce included the future.


I don't want to die, I confided in Yuri.
Yuri told me to believe in miracle, think realistically, and address together. 
Thank you, thank you.  I do.  I want to be.


The midnight sky tinted in wine red, and the taste of wine becomes starts in the universe.
The star of miracle 
I hope it will be.


Yuri, See you again.
I wait for the electronic sound of the ring tone ring.

Poem by Maria Franki

Edited and translated by J. Ujiie

©2011

Life Style Study

February 10th

I'm too late for 6:00 pm.
I texted Ms. Grasshopper.
Can I push back 30 minutes?
Hurry, hurry.  My mind is on the run; my body swims in the deep morass.
Ms. Grasshopper arrived at 6:30 sharp.


I need to be at Omote Sando at 7:00pm.
Getting on a cab, getting off the cab,
It takes five times as long as a healthy person.


The building is just across the pedestrian overpass and 
It is absolutely beyond my power to cross the overpass.
The taxi went a long way round to the venue.
Here we are, finally.


Held from the both sides
I managed to climb down the steps 
Only to find that it lead to the wrong building.
No way.  Gasping for air
I had to go back to the start.


The mere 6 steps of the stair is a valley of fear for me.
My left foot won't rise even one centimeter. 
My back and my hips have no muscle tone.
I only move jerking like marionettes.
Until now I believed I could walk more steadily.
What's wrong with my body?


Able-bodied people started to gather around me.
"You can stand up."
"Hold on to my shoulders."
"One step at a time."
"Won't do."
"How about a piggyback ride."
Conversation goes.


I have muscular atrophy just as I have been told.
I can't live the life of the robust.  It's my reality, the reality of my life.
The conversation attests to the fact.
Do I have to accept? From when? To when?
I am the weak, the amyotropic.
I can't do this, I can't do that, I can't do anything.


I was hauled down in a wheelchair.
With the rolling of the wheelchair in the air, my mind started to atrophy.
I cause troubule to others.
I shouldn't go out.
In a solitary resistance, I decided I would never go to places where people gathered.


The life style of the myotrophic is that of confinement at home.
I thought.  I felt.


The lecture was going on about the lifestye of the youth.
The seminor as usual. Nothing has been changed.
I have changed.  I realiezed I did not belong to the able-bodied anymore.


The lecture went straight over my head.
The subject should have interested me.
It slipped out of my mind what the able-bodied youth wanted and gave up.  
The atrophy of mind was progressing at a fast pace.


The nightscape appeared pitch black, 
Reflecting the mind.


Gentlemen at the seminer pestered me for after-party.
While I declined, I was not free to turn on my heel and leave.
So here I am at the after-party, drowing my disgust in drink.
A patient with atrophy of muscle and mind hitting the bottle.


Even if I poured out my heart, nobody would ever understand, I was sure.
I ate and drank to vent my feelings.
The fried chicken tasted delicious.  The delights was available even for the atrophied mind.
Ms. Grasshopper laughed carrying me on her back.
I smiled coyly and then laughed.
I got a smile from Ms. Grasshopper, who had been a stranger one month ago.


Let's put the atrohy of mind on the shelf for now.
Something good will happen during the three day weekend.
I'll give it a shot
To believe in time to wait for love.


My life style is to extend time to wait.

Poem by Maria Franki

Edited and translated by J. Ujiie

©2011

Magic Bullet Act II

February 9th


KP came in the morning.
I didn't want be alone so I asked him.
Shortly after Mr. K arrived.


Let's start.
Mr. K applied the ointment gliding along over the spine.
Tap tap tap Mr. K tapped it in.
Tap tap tap Mr. K's hand rise and fall
Along the spine down to the tailbone
My blue spots on my buttocks are almost exposed.
It was a close call.  I still feel as bashful as a maiden is.


As I'm desperate for the cure, I'm determined to accept anything.
Tap tap tap one hour has past.
Tap tap tap moved to the neck.
It feels good,
Just as a massage does.
I'm at ease with K.P. by my side.


$150 for a bottle of ointment.
I said it was expensive.
KP said it would worth if it works.
That's true.


After the tap tap tap session, KP and Mr. K left.
I laid my weary body down alone.
It would worth if it works, but my body was lead.


KP came back in the evening.
We went out to the neighborhood Pakistani restaurant.
No problem with the wheelchair
It glided 
Fast.  I watched the familiar scenery flow by.


Confined to a wheelchair,
I look forward to dining out as my only pleasure.


The sun set and dusk started to gather
Another night to spend by myself approaches
As I can't roll over, I pull the fabric of pajamas to roll my body over.
If I lose my muscle strength in my hands, how could I roll over?


Without moving I would see the morning
Without moving I would see the night
And my body stays in the same position
Discrepancy between my mind's needs and my body.


I beg you to
Spare me the strength just to pull the pajamas as long as possible.


With doggy bag we are home.
I thank KP for pushing my wheelchair.
If I can say goodbye properly when he leaves
I am sure tomorrow will be a wonderful day.

Poem by Maria Franki

Edited and translated by J. Ujiie

©2011

Magic Bullet

I met Mr. K first time on January 15th.
At a neighborhood Korean Restaurant
He was drinking makgoli sitting next to us.


We were eating our favorite dish as usual.
I don't remember how it happened.
A conversation struck naturally in a small homey restaurant.


Mr. K had a health food which he claimed might cure "it."  
Mr. K elaborately argued for its efficacy and potency.
Honestly, who would take pills given by a stranger?


However, the illness I am afflicted with has no known cure.
It is progressing and the future is looking break.
I jumped off the deep end and took the pills.
I met Mr. K by chance.  It was not like he came to knock on my door.


Half believing, half with reservation, I went to see Mr. K at Sanuki Kaikan Hotel.


Since the chance meeting, I bought the pills.  
It is my decision and so be it.


Instead I ponder on the invisible world, where eventuality, inevitability, synchronicity and serendipity happen.


I am afflicted with ALS.
Every morning I wake up to find something I can not do anymore.
I can not walk over bumps any more.
I can not reach up for things on the high shelves.
Such an everyday movement makes me aware the way I become to be unable to.
That is the everyday life I live.
That is the fate I have to accept.


I discovered "the health food which might cure it" by chance.  I feel it could be a gift from heaven.  If I take it at all, I rather believe it cures.  That's how I feel.


I live everyday at the mercy of the fate.  Let the fate guide me to the consequence of the magic bullet.


That was what I thought in Sanuki Kaikan Hotel.  Next time I come here I will try their udon noodle.  

Poem by Maria Franki

Edited and translated by J. Ujiie

©2011

Sister and Niece

February 6th


Ms. Grasshopper, the documentary director, came at 11:15, with a camera.
My sister Kimi and my niece Yuka were coming from my hometown today.
The doorbell rang.


My sister arrived with red-eyes.
I fought back my tears
Deep in the nostrils I felt a sting.


Mom sent me a big hug through my sister.
My sister and Mom held me tight in her arms.
I couldn't hold it back anymore
I cried like a child.
The camera was rolling.


My sister bought me pajamas, so cute.
I love it, the color and style.  She knows my taste.
Thank you, Thank you.


Are they on board the super express already?
1 hour and 40 minutes to my hometown.
It's close while far and it's far while close, my hometown.
But I want to stay in tokyo for a while
As long as my life allows.

Poem by Maria Franki

Edited and translated by J. Ujiie

copyright 2011

Taking a Walk

February 5th


On a winter day with soft sunshine
I went out to stroll in a wheelchair for the first time.
The shopping promenade was busy with people.
With my eyes at one metre above ground
The street I see was different from the one 
I walked down when I was healthy.
Things are placed above the one meter line and 
I have to look up all the time.
My neck started hurting.
KP pushed the wheelchair from the behind.
I felt your love on my back.


We watched Wall Street: Money Never Sleeps.
The familiar scene of Manhattan, New York.
I spotted the apartment building I used to live in on the screen.


After movie dinner
Carpaccio with Balsamic Vinegar was delish.
I have to savor every dish I have.
The day will soon be here.  I will not be able to eat.


At midnight
I let KP go.
See you later, see you again, see you later, see you again,
I can't say goodbye properly
'Cause I'm afraid of night.

Poem by Maria Franki

Edited and translated by J. Ujiie

copyright 2011