published Essays to date: Mariko Kitakubo

Mariko Kitakubo Profile

Mariko Kitakubo

Born in Tokyo.
Living in Mitaka-city, Tokyo
Membership
Japan Writers' Association,
Japan PEN Club,
Association of Contemporary Tanka Poets,
Japan Tanka Poets' Society,
Kokoro-No-Hana,
Tanka Online Project,
Tanka Society of America.

Contemprary Tanka Poet Mariko Kitakubo.

Essays posted in other publications to date.

five years now
since I sat there
with Mother
supping on noodles
flavered with citron

no one can tell me
at what moment it began
this sad story . . .
the endless winter
of my motherland

it's be
my last love,
I'm telling
my late mother
foot of a pale rainbow

'In The Sequoia Forest'

1)
from these trees
I get the spark of life
and I
give it them,too,
in the sequoai forest

2)
I don't wish
to harm this forest ---
at dawn
the sound of mist swirling
the sound of trees sleeping

3)
dew-clad and silent
the lower branches
f a tree
  three thousand years old,
standing there fresh and cool

4)
that wind
blowing down
from the tree-top ---
are the eyes of
the sequoia god,opening ?

5)
so faint
the song of the stream
on a redwood trunk ---
one thousand years
of peaceful living

6)
in gratitude
for a time of enrichment
among the trees
I place an oxalis flower
reverently on a stump

just as I
enter the strait
the inky nails
of the Grim Reaper
claw towards me

lest we stray
the Milky Way
just happens
to slip between
our entwined fingers

as if
falling down
into the galaxy,
I would fall
into your heart

for whom
am I in full bloom?
castle ruins

lest we stray
the Milky Way
just happens
to slip between
our entwined fingers

Excellent English Tanka Prize.

our two shadows
are lengthening -
oh God,
why am I a lamb,
why is he a wolf?

I will attend the award ceremony on November 22, 2006, at Honolulu Pacific Beach Hotel.
The report will be announced in my website later.

when my mother
has silently slipped
from her life,
I sought a new star
in the Milky Way

tranquilly ashes
continue to fall
on this ruined village
where like a scream
the silence shines

after all the years
of a single mother
with one daughter,
this empty space -
a leaden-gray moon

after viewing the 'Nuclear Scars of Chernobyl' exhibition of photographs by Hirokawa Ryouichi

approaching I see
a village ruined
wind howls on high
as if all their names
have been forgotten

after viewing the ' Nuclear Scars of Chernobyl ' exhibition of photographs by Hirokawa Ryouichi

sometimes
while I gaze at the sky
I'm thinking
of hydraulics,of what
my boy is studying

it feels like I'm astray
in a giant sand-clock,
with quantities of sand
falling down on me
from time to time

urn your back
on your mother and walk on,
grow strong -
the wind of your childhood
blows bright in my memory

I've gone on
not putting it all
into words - now
sounds from the river
within me grow louder

on a chilling morning
I realise that
for my mother
there will be
no next summer
Mother departed this life

Mother is dead -
beneath my recollections,
like a ringing in the ears
the receding light
of mid-summer

can I love again,
do I still have
the courage
to fall
head over heels?

sun shining
into corners of the glass door -
leaving behind
an unfinished letter

loving both
thunder and evening showers
I love
the summer that uproots
and carries me off

all alone
in a far-off place
is revolving
a tiny universe,
a plum in space

 

 

 

the mother
who dwells within me
is smiling
as she nurses an infant,
a younger mother than now

my mother
has become
my beloved child,
put to bed
in a pure white room

my life
is without a future -
meantime
I've increased the earring holes
in one of my lobes

time after death,
immeasurable -
I will put together
a bundle of dim lights
and walk on

there are probably
poems that only I
can write -
I prefer cherry trees
after their blossoms

unconscious
my mother sleeps on,
beside her
I drift away a little
from the time of this world

I will live feeding on my heartbreak--
at my feet
the silence of love
laps like wavelets

what emptiness,this -
on the surface
of the marsh
a blue heron stalks,
casting a long shadow

in the end
I will be
nothing but spirit,
eyes and ears
all gone

 

 

 

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