Four-Star Dragon Ball.

(After Akira Toriyama)

Observe the mountain ridge sprawled across time zones

like it has nowhere to be.

And the man traversing it 

like the upcoming hour is his enemy.

That’s Son Goku, wearing a halo, 

still fighting for his people,

still kind in the face of evil,

still trying.

Watching that at any age will do something. 

Like practicing your Kamehameha form hoping you can do it too,

or looking to a friend and saying “extend your hands so I can lend you my energy”,

or understanding grandpa Gohan still lives through the glow inside a Dragon Ball,

through a wish on the tip of a gentle heart.

The tip of an artist’s pen teaching,

transcending generations, 

and now sketching from Beyond.

To any tongue forming the phrase: “It’s just some cartoon”,

refer to the mountain of hands linked across time zones,

mourning together, energizing a friend, 

that would say otherwise.

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Behind the Poem.

This is the first draft of " Four-Star Dragon Ball.", written in the early hours of March 9th, a day after it was announced that Akira Toriyama passed away on March 1st. 

My soul was ruminating on something but wasn't sure what. I knew I wanted to touch grief, celebration of life & art, and some of the impact the Dragon Ball series has had and still can have. 

I remember growing up, not being allowed to watch Dragon Ball Z, still sneaking around to watch anyway (sorry, Mom). She eventually caved in and there I was playing Budokai, upset as hell that Cell was so hard to beat. But, like Goku, I persevered. I trained harder. I kept trying. 

I could go on for days, and I'm sure this poem will see edits, but I wanted to give my raw words first. 

RIP to a legend who is more than just this one series, who inspired countless artists, who procrastinated as an extreme sport and still created magic, who is spoken of highly by so many.

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