More Poetry in Tokyo

More Poetry in Tokyo

I’m reading at “POETICA word/image/sound” at Gamuso in Asagaya, Tokyo SUN Nov. 15, 2026. Thanks to Herman Bartelen for having me as one of the poets.

My Poetry in Great Company

My Poetry in Great Company

I read my poems “ode to the stroller,” “Mono no aware” and “Fearless at 90” with Joshua Breakstone in Jazz and the Spoken Word THU Oct. 15, 2026, at Klavier in Tokyo.

ode to the stroller
a poem by Yuri Kageyama

we zip weightless like silent angels
up and down San Francisco hills
running on the mother of all energy
greener than solar
rolling rolling rolling
with laughter
cream acid rock ‘n’ rolling
lightning dazzling wheels
gara-gara-gara-gara
teethers jangling dangling dancing
going mad on strangle-free rubbery ribbons
up and down the Avenues
J-town, Clement Street
Golden Gate Park
Museum of Modern Art
we are singing:
“Ouma no oyako wa nakayoshi koyoshi
itsudemo issho ni pokkuri pokkuri aruku”

perfume wind in our hair
springing over potholes
not even stopping just for breast feeds
connected as one through this magical machine
me pushing
you riding
the Lamborghini of strollers
the Gundam of strollers
the little train that could of strollers
up up up into the joyous clouds
zooming wheeeeee
down slurping slopes
around swervacious curves
we are one
yes, we are one
tied in the past with our
umbilical cord
and
even in death
in our dreams

Photo by writer Jann Williams.

MONO NO AWARE a poem by Yuri Kageyama

Mono no aware

To be or not to be

Things fall apart

A room of one’s own

The sound of water

One hundred years of solitude  

So blessed we are

To be natives

Of this eternal tribe

FEARLESS AT 90 a poem by Yuri Kageyama

I am fearless at 90

Wrinkles deep as the Nile

Hair translucent spiderwebs

Varicose veins throbbing blood

A map of fate on a carcass of skin

I am fearless at 90 

I rap poetry with my dentures

Jazz dance with my wobbly knees

I rock like Jimi Hendrix

We Boomers invented Revolution

I am fearless at 90

I’m so close to the pearly gates

I’m on speaking terms with the angels

I’m so near-sighted I read minds

My fungus breath slays dragons

I am fearless at 90

My wheelchair zips Ferrari-style

My voice resonates five octaves low

My cane duplicates as a samurai sword

My hearing aid just blocks out noise

I am fearless at 90  

I have no appointments to keep

No bosses to please

No dates to impress

No one can put me down

I am fearless at 90

I barely remember what’s up or down

Or who is where anymore;

Beyond gender, race, class,

Or even age

I am fearless at 90

My skin like washi paper

My fingers gnarled like a witch

I am neither man nor woman

White, black, brown or yellow.

I am just 90, and fearless:

Those days are long gone,

Not trusting anyone over 30,

I’ve given birth to a thousand children

And have a million grandchildren

I am fearless at 90

Although death is around the corner,

I’ve seen war and peace

Endured abuse to survive;

Don’t expect or need respect

I’m proud to be fearless at 90

I went back to hear Joshua Breakstone and Phillip Strange at The Adirondack cafe in Jinbocho, Tokyo, FRI Oct. 17, 2026, the day after our collaboration, and got this photo with him _ for the record.

Hagi Yaki _ a poem by Yuri Kageyama

Hagi Yaki _ a poem by Yuri Kageyama

My mother died a long time ago

But she talks to me a lot lately

Like this morning

When I arrange the branches found

In her Hagi Yaki vase;

I hear her voice,

As clear as yesterday:

“He already totally forgives you,”

“Mou zenbu yurushiteruno,”  

About my longtime partner,

A remark,

The significance of which

I’m just

Gradually

Starting to Understand,

So many, many years later,

Maybe because now I’ve

Finally entered that stage

When I am going to join them all  

Soon

On that other side,

Eternal and perfect,

Forgiving all.

>___<

The vases in the photo are a part of my parents’ Hagi Yaki collection that I was lucky enough to inherit. My father worked as an engineer at IHI and NASA but took early retirement and became a professor at Yamaguchi University in Ube, a long skip from Tokyo. But they were the happiest they had ever been there. They became friends with the Hagi Yaki artists, because Hagi is relatively near Ube, and got their artworks straight from the “kama,” or the oven where the pottery is baked, eliminating the middle-men, i.e., discount prices from National Treasures. The vases remind me of how beauty _ and love _ can endure over the passage of time and spaces.

My poetry an honorable mention in “The Terrible Fives” by Ishmael Reed

My poetry an honorable mention in “The Terrible Fives” by Ishmael Reed

Coming November 2026. I am thrilled to get an honorable mention in “The Terrible Fives,” the upcoming book by Ishmael Reed, my longtime mentor since my UC Berkeley days.

IT IS OK a poem by Yuri Kageyama

at Senshin Obon in LA this year a very special lantern

IT IS OK a poem by Yuri Kageyama

it is OK

to idealize

he is now

an angel

or

at least that’s

what they say

he never laid eyes on another

he always brought home the pay check

he never broke anything

and he never snored

it is OK to believe

all those things

and think he was, will be

perfect

This piece came about as part of the Poetry Challenge, a group in Tokyo that shares work on a given theme. The theme was “Dreamtime.” I’m sharing it here because it turned out nicely, if I may say so, with the title “It Is OK.”

The link below shows what our son Isaku did with the poem using AI. The link at the top is a real human version by Isaku’s Berklee friends, singer Tea with Hiroshi Tokieda. I know the man whom I loved all my life will be proud of this poem _ and the music.

A Podcast about my writing

A Podcast about my writing

Also on Apple Podcast

And on Amazon Podcast

And a Video on LinkedIn

Another Video on LinkedIn

I talk about my journalism and other thoughts. This was done in April 2026, but is being re-released August 2026.

I am Interviewed on the Radio

I am Interviewed on the Radio about Toyota’s Hiroshi Okuda

I am interviewed on a radio show called The World about Toyota’s Hiroshi Okuda by Jeremy Siegel on the theme of “Remembering an Auto Industry Giant.” My AP Story Aug. 12, 2026, Okuda’s obituary.

YOUR MUSIC a poem by Yuri Kageyama

Your Music a poem by Yuri Kageyama

He loved me

More than he loved

His Music

And his Music is

Huge

Because

When you play

That kind of Music

The Music

Is about Everybody

Each Player

Even the listener

But especially the Music

Not just then and there

But all the Music

That went Before

You knew that

So you just smiled

When I said

It wasn’t your Music

And I didn’t even think or know

How much you loved me

Because our love was bigger

Than all that

Music

a link to a sweet musical version on SoundCloud

Gordy with Duke in San Francisco 1979. Photo by Bob Hsiang.

I now know it’s all the same thing, love and music. Or the poem, flower arrangement or any other pursuit. It’s about connecting with all that went before you, in all their trials and tribulations, everything. And love is a part of that, your connecting with that person you love. Maybe your friend, your mother, your partner for life. It might get complicated if you are trying to connect with the past, while at the same time trying to connect with that individual, who in turn may also be connecting with the musical or theatrical greats who went before him or her. But, hey, it’s all the same thing. It is how you live and how you choose to connect. And it is definitely a lifelong effort. Worth every second. Filling you with joy and meaning about having known those special connections, and that special person. So do not mourn. Just rejoice. Keep playing, writing, creating and loving.

My Poem on Mirrors

My Poem on Mirrors _ Getting a mention in an upcoming book by Alan Ota

I hate seeing my reflection in the mirror.

I always look away.

It’s not that I consider myself utterly ugly.

I’m just embarrassed.

The same way I can never smile in photos.

That person looking back, oddly visible.

When a face should be simply a window

Used to look out from what’s within.

My longtime poet friend Alan Ota found this poem of mine from some time back. He thinks it is moving and might use it in his next book. I didn’t even remember having written this poem. It sounds like something I would write. I still like this poem.