Publicized in Tanka Society of America: Mariko Kitakubo

Mariko Kitakubo Profile

Mariko Kitakubo

Born in Tokyo.
Living in Mitaka-city, Tokyo
Japan Writers' Association,
Japan PEN Club,
Association of Contemporary Tanka Poets,
Japan Tanka Poets' Society,
Tanka Online Project,
Tanka Society of America.

Contemprary Tanka Poet Mariko Kitakubo. Tanka Society of America.

My Tanka publicized in Tanka Society of America.



Tanka Cafe - the theme: Relantionships

like my son
like my grandpa
and like me,
grandchild likes




Selected Tanka

the deep blue
of an Alaskan sky
then the voice of an aurora
I want to dive
into the universe



I am very honored that two pieces of my English tanka were selected among many entries and posted in TSA Member's Anthology 2017.  

Especially, I am deeply grateful to Ms. Margaret Dornaus and Mr. David Terelinck, the two selectors, because they understood and appreciated my intent and the theme of these two pieces.  These pieces are not limeted to my personal emotion.  I tried to focus on the world's peace while taking the form of tanka - a style of short poems.

more than
70 years ago--
the blood
of my parents
of my grandparents

dark fog
is crawling near
my ankles
Hiroshima, Nagasaki,
Fukushima and  . . . 



TSA に掲載されたその他の作品は、こちらよりご覧ください。
Tanka Society of America 掲載作品


Mariko Kitakubo wrote:  "We had such sweet memories.  She invited me to Gualala, and I visited to read my tanka at her Jazz Festival Reading event in April, 2009.  She was invited to the Japan PEN club conference in September, 2010 and I brought her to Hakone."

misty lake Ashi
like a dream --
our tea cups
still there?
foot of Mt. Fuji

after Hakone
you wept for joy ...
I miss you so
at the same hotel
in order your favorite tea

Above is the memorial statement for Ms. Jane Reichhold
and my tanka posted in TSA.

don't bring your children
offshore at Fukusima --
in the Summer reflections
so many dead eyes

Tanka Cafe, TSA Ribbons Spring/Summer 2016 Vol.12 No.9

Ms. Claire Everett's Tanka Journal, "Skylark," posted the responsive tanka of Ms. Kathabela Wilson, the secretary of TSA, and myself.

Ms. Everett, thank you very much.


(Mariko Kitakubo,Japan&Kathabela Wilson,USA)

Finn Air
we cross
the dateline(M)

a leaf through the door
lost again(K)

the autumn sky
between my fingers(M)

we pull from both sides
but don't break

the wish bone(K)

when the swing
switches direction(M)

we meet

at the clock tower(K)

Selected tanka

a linden tree shelters
dead children...
cicada songs
surround me

Tanka Cafe

it was
my son’s favorite...
the last pistachio,
the old parfait glass

Selected tanka 

floating lanterns
on the Motoyasu river
in Hiroshima ...
foster Mother
of so many bodies

Tanka Cafe. Theme ; Novels 

blue sky 
or mushroom clouds, 
the last view 
of our future 


Selected tanka 

long sacred sleep 
in the wooden drawer ... 
does he waken 
when I wind it 
great -grandpa's watch


Rerponsive Tanka 

Hiking at Coyote Wall 
Mariko Kitakubo & Margaret Chula 

 wind, sunshine 
a meadowlark's song 
in the endless sky 
I become invisible 
at the edge of heaven 

growing profusely 
along the rocky trail 
clumps of poison oak 
the Japanese poet wears 
rubber boots and latex gloves
(Margaret ) 

when I saw 
Mt. Hood from the hillside
remembering Fukushima
can they survive radiation
yellow wildflowers?

 here and there
cricket sounds
from the tall grasses
laughter of women
as they pass around chocolate
(Margaret ) 

Tanka Sequences "The Great Door"

don't set out for
your last trip...
it's snowing
like approaching shadow

the great door
of astronomy --
I close my eyes
to hear your voice

the waves
in my heart
keep working
ignoring the accident

at the market
among the purple grapes
a few
young green ones ...
thinking about my son

Tanka-Cafe; Theme "The Shadow of things"

on the leaf mold--
gene awake
in my silhouette

2 pieces of my tanka are posted on TSA Ribbons Fall 2014 Vol 10, Number 3.

Tanka Cafe ; Theme "Birds and Birding"

of the pigeon nest--
weak rain
makes me calm
in spite of radiation

Selected Tanka

of ancient stones
so cool
on my bare feet--
after we all cease to be...