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 Society of America.
Tan-Ku Co-Founder
Tan-Ku Association, president

In commemoration of
15 years of tanka reading
The Latest Tanka Sequence
Original Tanka presented at
Spoken World Live

Contemprary Tanka Poet Mariko Kitakubo.

Essays posted in other publications to date.

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