My AP Story Jan. 2, 2026 about the emperor and his family greeting well-wishers at the palace for New Year’s.
AP Photo by Fatima Shbair.
I usually start the New Year by covering a countdown event for our roundup story. I send a bunch of material but, by the end of the global day, it becomes one line, if even that. It’s a great way to start out the new year as a reporter, a humbling but comforting reminder that we just do our jobs. I am a Contributor to this AP Story Jan. 1, 2026.
I was invited by some poets in Japan to join an online project where we write a poem every day of the year. The same theme is assigned for everyone for each day. Today’s was “reset.” I decided to write my first poem of 2026 as haiku. And so here goes:
HAIKU FOR RESET
by Yuri Kageyama
Jan. 1, 2026
Pain loss empty love
Every day moment breath
It’s still here live it
YOUR JACKET
by Yuri Kageyama
Jan. 2, 2026
Alone
I sit here,
And you have left your jacket
The blue jeans jacket
With the golden snap buttons _ and the one that is missing
_ with the zipper zipping up and down on the shoulders, the
pockets, the arms _
Then discover, caught in one, your hair _ black, black
and long _ a wavy dark thread
Too big, the sleeves hang limp over my hands;
I am in your jacket, in you _ almost _
Almost the way you feel so good against and inside of me
I’m covered
By the cast skin of your skin
Like the dry brown shells that
Yellow butterflies leave
behind
I smell your smell
They way a baby smiles
inside
The Mother’s arms _
thick and soft and
there
always, always _
I will sleep with your jacket _
cuddle it, feeling it under my palms, kiss it, tell it my dreams
I smell your smell, resting my cheek against a sleeve
I smell your smell
breathing deep
and deeper
I miss and wish it were
you
But your jacket has fallen asleep
quietly
Next to me.
This is a poem I wrote some time back so it is about young love. I decided I still like this poem and so I didn’t change a word. It’s wonderful this challenge made me remember the poem, all of a sudden. It took some rummaging through stacks of books and drawers that hadn’t been opened in ages, but I did find it, published in a literary magazine called Women Talking Women Listening, out of California. Now this poem is reborn, online. I am so happy. Today’s theme was “jacket.”
ZEN
by Yuri Kageyama
Jan. 3, 2026
Close your eyes
Forget
Those grudges
You will never forget
Even those
You’ve long forgotten
Like old cotton fog
Burn a single stick of incense
Preferably
The one that smells like lavender
But is deep orange in color
Take a deep breath
Wipe out those faces, those voices, those aches,
Slaps, kicks, abuse, ridicule, words and thoughts that hurt
Hurled not at others by you
But by others to you
And now forget about you
Or anyone else
Your children
Your grandchildren
Including those you never had
The love of your life
You had that
And let nothingness seep in
Like that old cotton fog
Except
Now
It’s clear
Invisible
And nothing matters
CHAOS
by Yuri Kageyama
Jan. 4, 2026
The House on Second Avenue
The shutters are always banging
A drum machine keeping time
Down the block from Eddie Moore’s house
Around the corner from Russel Baba’s house
^-<
The House on Second Avenue
Robert Kikuchi Yngojo from San Jose
And Duke Santos, a conga player who’s also a
Paramedic saving lives on the ambulance,
Live in the basement rooms
^-<
The House on Second Avenue
Rickety wooden stairs lead to our doorway,
We’re upstairs, you and me,
With Aileen, who plays the qin,
And Richard, who’s white and gay
^-<
The House on Second Avenue
We share the kitchen, bathrooms, our dreams,
Not a care in the world except for Truth,
Justice, John Coltrane;
Musicians, dancers, poets
^-<
The House on Second Avenue
We could walk to Golden Gate Park
Or down to Clement Street
We’d sit for hours over coffee and a croissant
And run into Randy Senzaki’s wife strolling their son
^-<
The House on Second Avenue
Birds taking flight in a buzzing hushed whirl
From that tree right outside our window
Doves, you’d call them,
Though I knew they’re just pigeons
^-<
The House on Second Avenue
Where magic brewed and ceilings shook,
In time to the downbeat during rehearsals
And to promises of forever at night,
All shrugged off like the breaths we took
BOOK
by Yuri Kageyama
Jan. 5, 2026
Let’s read a book together, Mommy
You would say in that sweet little child voice
Eric Carle, Dr. Seuss, Maurice Sendak
Margaret Wise Brown
That faraway smell of paper with ink
We breathe in together as we turn the pages
Your warm body snuggled next to mine
Bedtime story time
That daily ritual
Like the morning cereal with “mook”
Our adventures gliding on the stroller
We forget when it ended
Just the way I was never sure
When you’d fallen asleep
IMPOSTER
by Yuri Kageyama
Jan. 6, 2026
We laugh at the jokes
Ride the bus standing still
Show up at the office
Read emails
Take a lunch break
After the Zoom
A shadow
Lining the landscape
Never questioning
No matter how illiterate or inane
Devoted to being normal
Uncontested, conforming, proven
Making sure
That deadly darkness
Never shows
Except in poetry
Scribbled in secret
Like silent gems
CONVERSATION
by Yuri Kageyama
Jan. 7, 2026
My recent poem “What Do You Think” is perfect for today’s word, “Conversation.” And the perfect song below by Ryu Miho.
Years ago, I went to the Van Gogh Museum in Amsterdam. Today, I saw the works again in Tokyo. I once asked my partner if Van Gogh was happy having all these people gawking at his works, likely for the wrong reasons. And he assured me Van Gogh was happy.
A song about love with Words written by Yuri Kageyama and Music and song by Ryu Miho
what do you think?
it’s a trick question
what do you think?
with a right answer
what do you think?
not at all open-ended
what do you think?
as it might seem
what do you think?
it’s asking do you really love me?
do you truly understand?
what do you think?
the answer isn’t fixed
just a right answer, and a wrong
what do you think?
i love you so much
what do you think?
and long after we’re all gone
what do you think?
that big question is still there
what do you think?
what do you think?
Lovers are always asking each other: “What do you think?” and getting upset if their lover doesn’t quite get it, or answers he or she felt something about an artwork or a film they just saw together in a different way from what you’re feeling, or thought the feeling should be, or whatever. It’s really a fruitless game, but it’s one all lovers play, all the time, throughout history, wherever they are, any nation, any culture. Because ultimately you’re just asking: Do you love me? And there is no right answer or a wrong one. Just that moment you share, you are both here, alive but together on this little beautiful planet, lost in the cosmos, and we never know what to think anyway.
My AP Story Nov. 21, 2025, a co-byline with my colleague Terry, about the “rental family” business in Japan and the Hollywood film starring Brendan Fraser it inspired. Click on the link below to see the Video for the Story:
My AP Story July 8, 2025 on Japanese boxing star Junto Nakatani, a story relayed to the world as a Top Story for The Associated Press.
As a reporter, I am privileged to meet some of the best people in the world, like this champion, Junto Nakatani. When I asked him about how he is always smiling, even in the ring, he told me matter-of-factly that it is a disadvantage to get angry because “you lose control.” Obviously, boxing is all about winning. He also said he believes winning by knockout is what is “expected” of him. And I felt like a mom, as I often do at interviews, and in life, because I am one, and couldn’t help but respond with an empathetic: “Hey, it’s OK to just win.” Which goes to say that Nakatani is a very special person _ to bring that out in you.
The poem as sung by Miho Ryu with music arranged and performed by Toshiyuki Turner Tanahashi.
Love Simply
To be near hurts
To be far hurts, too
Love simply hurts
To live hurts
To die hurts
Love simply hurts
Watching you die
Hurts even more
Love simply hurts
To know you hurts
To have known you hurts
Love simply hurts
But to not know you,
Not hurt for you
Is simply not a choice
Love simply hurts
Love simply hurts
Love simply hurts
「愛はただ痛い」
a poem by Yuri Kageyama translated into Japanese by Ryu Miho
近くにいるのもまた辛い
遠くにいるのもまた辛い
愛はただ痛い
生きるのもまた辛い
死ぬのもまた辛い
愛はただ痛い
あなたが死ぬのを見るのは
もっと辛い
愛はただ痛い
あなたを知るのもまた辛い
あなたを知っていたのもまた辛い
愛はただ痛い
でも、あなたを知らないのは
あなたのために傷つかないのは
ただ選択できない
愛はただ痛い
愛はただ痛い
愛はただ痛い
A rendition by Teru Kawabata with his singing and guitar. August 2025.
This poem, now lyrics to a song, was written in 2023. It is still developing, but I feel it has come full circle. It still makes me cry. My love is still so very real and, I know, eternal, which means the pain will never go away. It is overwhelming and frightening. But I now know many people feel this way. It is a feeling that comes only with someone you truly love. The wonderful thing is that I was able to show him my poem. He just said, “I feel loved.” The look he had on his face was like a child, totally fulfilled and happy. And what else is a poem meant to do?
I read “Love Simply” with music by Jackson on drums and Teru singing and playing guitar of the music he wrote at an open-mic in Tokyo Oct. 5, 2025. Thanks for having us and being such a fun crowd.
I read my poem “Love Simply” with Teruyuki Kawabata on guitar and Osaki Haniya, fellow poet and co-writer of “Continuously Poetry,” at Bar Gari Gari in Ikenoue, Tokyo, Sept. 19, 2025. Thanks to the Drunk Poets for having us.
Besides the Book Party, I also earlier read “Love Simply” with Teru at Infinity Books, on Oct. 11, 2025. Before I read, I told the people at the jam session that the poem was about my partner of more than 40 years, who died in April. I don’t think I ever said that in public about my poem. I also told them that I showed him the poem before he died, and he told me he felt loved. You know how you feel a bit drained, depressed even, after reading your work. But one young man who was there to jam told me he liked my poem, then said: “Your husband is one helluva lucky man.” That made it all worth it. And I thanked him.
This arrangement has the feel of autumn. The yellow chrysanthemums are the main objects. But the susuki grass blades add dynamism to the composition, while the brown-tinged leaves to the side have their own distinct personality.
My teacher said it was interesting I kept the blades long, and very much like me, which I think he meant in a positive way, as in a free spirit.
I was allowed to choose my vase and so it’s a rather unusual shape this time that really stimulates your imagination as to where the leaves and flowers should be, can be, wants to be, or are speaking to your soul to be. The beauty of Ikebana is that it is a conversation, silent but certain, not only with the elements of Nature but also with things like a vase, specially made by an artist for Ikenobo Ikebana, an individual. You are also relating to many other people, your ikebana teacher, of course, and your inner self, but, more significantly, memories of people, like your mother, who taught you your first lessons in ikebana, pride and joy in your Japanese heritage, and recognizing beauty and the message of impermanence in Life.
