Yuri Kageyama

My Ikenobo Ikebana No. 4

The star of today’s ikebana are roses from Kenya called Game Changers, arranged in a wine glass partly filled with plastic crystals. My earlier Ikebana: My first ever Ikenobo Ikebana. Part Two or my Second Attempt. And Part Three.

Two and a half weeks later, the flowers have gone dry but are still vibrant with color. My teacher told me to watch for the flowers as they go dry, and, although I found just three pieces this time, they look grand and happy in the Hagiyaki plate. My parents lived in Yamaguchi Prefecture, where Hagi is located, and my father was a professor after retiring from an engineering company. They became friends with a lot of Hagiyaki artists and got their works at bargain prices. I treasures all their Hagiyaki pieces. There is a whole universe in this arrangement. And the messages that beauty _ and life _ do not end with death.

Hiroshima on Our Minds

Hiroshima On Our Minds. Prime Minister Shigeru Ishiba read a tanka poem by Shinoe Shoda at the end of his speech this year. He read it twice, which was not initially planned, saying: “With a flood of emotions as I reflect deeply on those words, I hereby conclude my address.”

The official translation:

The heavy bone must be a teacher’s. The small skulls beside it must be students gathered around.

My translation:

The big bone a teacher

Nearby tiny skulls

Huddle close

The original Japanese:

太き骨は先生ならむ

そのそばに小さきあたまの骨

あつまれり

The words of the Hiroshima poet, who wrote extensively about the horrors of war, are engraved in a memorial in that city. She died in 1965.

The Bear _ a poem by Yuri Kageyama

The Bear _ a poem by Yuri Kageyama

It still sits crumply

With bit of a stunned look,

That first thing you bought for me

More than 40 years ago

“Into that little girl thing,” you said,

Like you were calling me out on a pretense

But you knew all along it was true

Like our love;

“I want you to live a full life,” you said.

Days, weeks, months,

Years from now after you’re gone

Piercing my heart,

Squeezing out tears,

The bear is still here,

Dry cleaned

Maybe just once or twice,

Watching me

Sitting prim

People say things have little meaning, and it’s just the person or the emotions that the thing reminds you of that have meaning. Sometimes they are one and the same thing because if you have something for more than 40 years, that certainly means something, and that thing has a meaning of its own. People leave, taking off from this world and going somewhere very far. But the thing stays. And it continues to tell us what that person means. Because that person never really leaves. He is always here, just like, or even more than, that thing. This is the fourth in a series that follows this third piece, which has a link that connects to the previous pieces.

ISAKU’S SONG FOR HIS FATHER

https://www.epidemicsound.com/track/UHpWS3a76U/

This is a song Isaku wrote for his father, “Sanctity,” featuring Sumie Kaneko on vocals.

あなたからの　贈りもの

遠く離れても　耳をすませば

私の大事な宝もの

か弱い鼓動　今は誇り

惜しむ間もなく　走れども

もう何も耐えることはない

てしおにかけた　我が子ども

もう何も迷うことはない

This is how I’ve translated the words into English:

This gift I got from you

Listen hard, even from afar

It’s my most precious gift

That faint beat is now my pride;

Before one even knows it, that passing of time,

There is nothing to bear anymore,

That child, you raised with all this love,

There is no uncertainty anymore

From “Katari Vol. 2 Stories from Japan” by Isaku Kageyama 2025.

My Ikenobo Ikebana No. 3

Today’s Ikenobo Ikebana used a sponge called “oasis,” because it’s apparently made by a company called Oasis, to arrange the flowers in a way that was quite three-dimensional but required the placement of the leaves at the bottom to “hide” the sponge. The teacher said to start with the main elements, the sunflowers. You place one sunflower, then the other sunflower, always lower than the first. The other elements are basically fillers for the empty spaces, but you have to think where those spots are and balance them. You can play around with the long leaves, even bending them with your fingers. But always remember the tips must look up, never droop. Adding the water comes last. The speckles of glitter reflecting in the vase are gorgeous and an understatement at once.

YOUR ROOM _ a poem by Yuri Kageyama

YOUR ROOM _ a poem by YURI KAGEYAMA

The door is open

It still smells like you

So sweet

Strange how I don’t remember

Your smelling so sweet

I let it air out

I don’t want the smell to fade

But to let you have some fresh air

This is the third part in a series, which has the link connecting to the earlier pieces. The link to the piece that follows this one.

FEELING LOVED _ a poem by Yuri Kageyama

FEELING LOVED _ a poem by Yuri Kageyama

You would tug at my elbow,

Meaning No,

When I stared too long at a good-looking guy,

To be fair, you would never gawk at beautiful women,

Although you might have been doing it when

I wasn’t looking.

You lived up to that Ideal,

The perfect faithful husband,

At least in that way, which

Makes you a good guy,

Despite all your failings

In other ways.

Because that is what love is:

Doing everything that makes the person you love

Feel

Loved

And not doing anything that might make that person you love

Not

Feel

Loved.

You said as you lay dying:

“I feel loved.”

And I knew I had done good.

In our Love.

This is the second installment in a series, which follows the first installment “What Do You Think?” These poems will be part of a bigger piece I am working on about Japanese American men. I don’t have a title for either the series or the bigger piece yet. Go to this link for the next piece that follows this piece.

My Second Ikenobo Ikebana

My Second Ikenobo Ikebana

Actually my teacher told me it’s against the rules to let a flower that broke off float in the water, when I did it. But when he took the photos at the end of the class with all the lighting set up, or actually another student and me holding them up, he took the flower, dropped it in the water and took this photo. He is a nice teacher. Although allowed in other styles of Ikebana, Ikenobo did not, seeing fallen flowers as death, and his works are about life, purity and our eternal connection to the spiritual. It made me sad that death is so beautiful. And I like this photo.

My First Ikenobo Ikebana

My First Ikenobo Ikebana

My first ever attempt at Ikenobo style Ikebana. May 21, 2025.

YOISHO !!

YOISHO !!

Wonderful to chance upon this image of a silkscreen poster by Gail Aratani for a poetry and music event we put on in J-Town San Francisco in 1979. I don’t remember what poems I read there, but I remember I came up with the name for the event, and Gail liked it, understanding how it expressed our umph, our hard work and how we do it together, as Japanese. Still proud of our work, our connections, our dreams, all the people and their art.