Daichi Ishikawa


Between my bureaucratic brain
and your bucolic train of thought
are shady spots of time called art.

Will anything so uncertain
in the world in which we live
remain intact? You say it will
though I cannot believe.

If we, behind your velvet curtain,
could hide a vague voluptuous idea
of our own interrupted works of art
then, I should be relieved.

The beautiful, sublime, at times
suspend my mythopoetic piety,
and autocorrect our cringing crimes
of imperfection, influence, anxiety,
of lasting lyric listlessness, a sense
of loneliness immense.

I swear and pray, in silky solitude, perusing Baudelaire,
and sup again a cup of emptiness, ennui, a symphony
once gold, now cold, before our time is up and down I go
and fade away into the restless realm of art for art
as though – I know – nothing really falls apart.

Daichi Ishikawa was born in Japan and has been an Anglophile since before
he started learning English at school, years before his first authentic British
pub experience. He read English at university while in Tokyo, where he
acquired an incurable habit of book-collecting and cat-stroking, as well as a
taste in British Aestheticism through reading Walter Pater’s The Renaissance. He has lived in London since 2014, currently completing a Ph.D. in English at Queen Mary University of London. In the art of poetry, he constantly aspires
towards what Pater called ‘the condition of music’.