My translation of Tanikawa’s final poem
I wake up
I see the foliage in my yard
I remember yesterday
I’m still alive
Today just needs to be more of yesterday
That’s how I think
I have no plans to do a thing
Nothing hurts
I’m not itchy either but I’m grateful
To whom in the world?
To God?
To the world? To outer space?
I don’t know but
A sense of gratitude stays
KELOID _ a poem by Yuri Kageyama
A famous actor once told me
He wished he didn’t have a Face.
Oiwa in Yotsuya Kaidan asks:
Is this my Face?
Criminals feel free to do evil
Their Faces behind a mask.
I still remember I cringed in horror:
Her Face was covered with Keloid
But instead of being a vengeful ghost,
Or criminally insane,
She is just gently worried
Not blaming
Not frail
Not vain
Our journey continues. Clich here for the first part of our journey. Below is where we pick up, from May through July 2024. The odd number installments are by Osaki Haniya and the even numbers are by yours truly. The theme is supposed to be “love,” although, as always, we go all over the place.
RENSHI
A poetic collaboration Part Two
By Osaki Haniya and Yuri Kageyama
連詩 第２弾
１
あなたと交わるのは
薄く大気が身動きする砂塵のあわい
雨と風と時が
廃墟の親和性を完成してくれる
そうだったね
徐々に思い出していくよ
倦んだ傷口と解剖メスの
刹那の痛み
白灰色の泥絵の具に
厚塗りの膠を重ねて
2
Native American Wisdom as Told by Urie Bronfenbrenner
A hip bone defect
Runs down family lines;
When they become warriors,
Some born
Can’t go riding
Can’t go hunting;
A brave white scientist
Maps out Blood
Lineage
Crooks and crannies,
Buried in Genes;
No child will ever be born again
With a hobbled spine,
No such child will be born again
The brave white scientist is excited
“I have figured this all out,” he says;
“I know. I know.”
But all the wise chief does
Is shake his head,
Deep pools of knowing
Beneath the eagle feathers,
And he says these Words
That say it All:
“We believe in Love.
We believe in Love.”
3
よく眠りなさいと言った母の声も届かない遠方に来て
無（なるもの）への郷愁など持ったこともなく
久しぶりに新古今和歌集を開いている
ーー草枕 旅寝の人は 心せよ
有明の月も かたぶきにけり
辻を回ると養源院
異国の共犯者が作り上げた不在の輪郭に惹かれ
苦痛と憐れみと嫌悪感と
程よく煽られる感情の臭気と
あなたの所在を見失っても
迷うことはできないと知る退屈さと
4
(With introduction and music playing Al Green’s “Let’s Stay Together)
I, I’m so in love with you
Whatever you want to do
Is alright with me
Cause you make me feel so brand new
And I want to spend my life with you
I bury the body, bloated and sagging,
Fat fingers that no longer hold
５
あなたの身振りに習うなら
臨床的良心によって射ち、つらぬき
微細な歪みを調合しなおし
名付け
印を彫り
忘却の漆喰から奪い取るでしょう
on Friday night, May 31th CE714
北海を渡ってタイン川へ向かう船室に り戻
紅茶が運ばれてくるまで眠った
すべては襖 の黄金のなか絵
あなたのノックで、やがて
夜の salutation が始まる
6
Romeo and Juliet in Kabuki
Where there was a Balcony is a River divide
Star-crossed lovers flee in the dark
Clinging to each other like souls driven mad
Chikamatsu writes of Double Suicide
Puppets more human in frenzied destiny
And Shakespeare simply asks:
Wherefore art thou?
7
偏愛する友人たち
娘たちが眠りに就くころ
荒れた穂先を尖らせる
風に解けだす辰砂
ペルシャ赤
スペイン赤
答えを求めているわけではないけれど
私は信仰を持たないままです
8
The homeless guy in my neighborhood who is always reading just got a new cute tiger puppet he keeps perched on his cart.
It looks like he washed it recently. It looks so perky.
Today, he had a new wand with a pink pony on it.
You found these?
I wasn’t sure what to expect. Some homeless people aren’t very friendly.
But this guy just looked bewildered. Then he said: You can have it.
It broke my heart.
No, that’s yours.
He has nothing.
And he was going to give me his new toy.
9
白象図
展開部はアレグロ・アッサイ
白色の下塗りが
微かに足音を響かせ
次第に高まり
^
火や花々
産声を上げるディ・モルトを け抜
それから不意に行く手を遮った
^
耳の砂
砂の匂い
夥しいマティエールの間で脚を開き
ゆっくりと押し付けてくるあなたの舌
^
聞き取れない声で呼ぶ
強暴な、母の名
^
風が吹く
引っ掛けるのだ
呼びとめ
伝えてほしいって
^
心配しなくていいんだよって
何かを欲しがったことなど
一度だってないんだよって
^
黒みがかった灰色の
黒ほとんど黄金色の
白象図
^
あなたは描き
ねじり
吊り下げる
^
此処から向きを える
変どちらかといえば少し歪んでいるあなたの肩
そこから遠く海が眺められる
^
なんという静けさだろう
幾つになったのとか
あのとき言っただろうことの意味を考えていた
^
何度もあなたは立ち止まる
そこだけ積もった冷気を吐き出しながら
＊俵屋宗達『白象図』
10
Today inside Tokyo’s pristine acoustics
Of Meguro Persimmon Hall
A Japanese cellist played
Ryuichi Sakamoto’s score for
Bernado Bertolucci’s “The Sheltering Sky,”
Love-torn and blistered by the Morocco sand,
An Africa covered with flies, indigenous yelps,
Fevers that derange:
If Sakamoto was inspired by Debussy
And Debussy was inspired by Asian music,
Has it all come back
Full circle?
Gone
Around this vast complicated War-ravaged ready-to-crack World
To settle quietly
As that tiny ache
Inside our chest?
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
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
^___<
Note from the poet:
I am not yet 90, but I feel this way and wrote this poem.
When I’m 90, I will write my real fearless at 90 poem.
The poem was published in the Winter 2024 issue of KONCH MAGAZINE.
More with Turner at this link.
At What the Dickens in Tokyo June 2, 2024. Haniya Osaki, Yuri Kageyama and Toshiyuki Turner Tanahashi. Photo by On Lim Wong.
CONTINUOUSLY POETRY a bilingual collaboration by Osaki HANIYA (all even entries) and Yuri Kageyama (odd entries) with Toshiyuki “Turner” Tanahashi (on bass). Tokyo. April 13, 2024.
1
Abortions, still births, defects at birth
Violent parents, cheating partners
Children who leave and never look back,
Cancer, dementia, the funeral wake.
Family of Errors
Betrayal, Psychosis:
If God created people perfect,
We would just miss them too much,
When they die
2
木漏れ日がさらさらと揺れて
靴の紐を固く締め上げる指先を撫で回す
1922年、T.S.Eliotは書いた
April is the cruelest month, breeding
Lilacs out of the dead land
越冬用の木の実とともに今も
シマリスは瓦礫の下に横たわっている
3
ファミレスとはよくいったもんだ
愛おしい家族よ
ジョナサン、デニーズ
サイゼリア
虐待のスパゲティ
Sexual abuse ice cream
痣だらけのお子様ランチ
4
十字路を渡りかけて振り返ると
見知らぬ小さな人が 呟く
missing link
5
Searched for the names of
Isaku’s Granpa and Granma;
Made sure they were there:
Their names,
Years of birth 1923 and 1924,
And Minidoka
Then shed a quiet tear.
Ireizo-dot-com
125,179 Persons of Japanese Ancestry are known to have been incarcerated by the U.S. Government during WWII.
We vow to remember them all.
_ written Feb. 19, 2024
Remembering Executive Order 9066 on This Day.
6
山雪〈老梅〉の
四面の狂い
反対色
描きとどめ
回り続ける歳月の二針を
焼き付けても
ひと枝の花
金箔の首筋に熱
記憶というのは幾つくらいから始まるのだろう
白衣の老人が顔を寄せ合ってこちらを覗き込んでいる
見上げると茫洋とした灯りが
ゆっくりゆっくり旋回している
自転車に乗れるようになった頃
朝早くに母の使いで近くの寺へ行った帰り
停車中のトラックに自転車もろとも突っ込んだ
左膝にめり込んだ小石が私そっくりに笑っていた
剥落しているところがあるかもしれない
溢れた塩酸の夢
過度の奏上
エクスタシス排斥し
＊ 狩野山雪〈老梅〉
7 (an English translation of sorts of 6)
Sansetsu’s “Old Plum”
Madness across the surface,
Opposite colors
He’s painted.
Two switches from a spinning full moon
Scalding
Sole flower on a branch
Turns to fever on a nape gilded with gold.
How old are we when memories begin?
Huddled old figures wearing white peer toward us;
A vast light above
Slowly, so slowly, spinning.
When I first learned how to ride a bicycle,
On my way back from the temple, running a morning errand for my mother,
I slam into a parked truck, bicycle and all,
The pebble stuck in my left knee laughs, looking just like me.
Maybe some parts have flaked off;
Overflowing acidic dreams
Excessive prayers
In exclusion of ecstasy
8
瓦礫の下で目を見開く２歳の私に
母の投身を描き終えた白昼の月に
欠損した踝から頭蓋へ
怒りの破裂を腑分けして
アイボリーブラック
ボーンブラック
1.82×1.225メートルの
ドロップブラック
始めましょう
展覧会
9
I know not where I am when I wake up
America or Japan
Hong Kong or Morocco
Heaven or Hell or Heaven on Earth
It groggily matters not whether Death
Or Life;
Purpose has Vanished
Never existed from the Start _
Not knowing, not mattering,
Like this poem That Is
At least Something,
A wispy dream ending without sadness,
This last one from me
And one more from you.
10
別れの言葉
逡巡して
沈默を覆う渇いた唇
かつて私はヒトだった
もうヒトではない
たくさん旅をした
国家
暴力
歪な科学が
じりじりと確実に腐生するなら
透層剤すべてが失われ
骨組み以外は何も残らず
わずかに装っていた善良さを
抹殺するだろう
My Poetry in Ishmael Reed’s KONCH
My poetry gets published in Ishmael Reed’s KONCH MAGAZINE.
“Fearless at 90” in KONCH magazine Winter 2024 issue.
What a thrill. And what company I keep.
My reading of the poem with bass by Toshiyuki “Turner” Tananashi. Tokyo 2024.
My Poetry and Essays in Ishmael Reed‘s THE PLAGUE ISSUES OF KONCH 2023
Ishmael and Tennessee Reed collected 62 contributions from people in China, Japan, Europe, Africa and the U.S. to write about their COVID experiences. And one of them is yours truly. The online collection of works crisscrossing the world and spanning two issues of KONCH literary magazine is coming out as a real-life book publication in 2024. On the cover is a photo taken in Venice of the poet, playwright, novelist, essayist, thinker and my forever mentor Ishmael Reed, standing next to a plague doctor (who else?) I am so happy, excited and honored. I can’t wait to get a copy.
THE BROKEN FRAME a poem by Yuri Kageyama
The ambulances are screaming. We look up and see a big tear in a steel fame right by our apartment building. We wonder but figure it’s not a murder because we don’t read about it, and there aren’t that many murders in Tokyo. Every time we see the broken frame, we wonder who it could have been. And what might have driven this individual, whom we don’t know and never will know, male or female, young or old, happy or unhappy, probably unhappy, literally over the ledge to a dark deep definitive leap of death. It does not make us feel very good. Every time we see that broken frame. A few weeks later, the frame gets fixed. And we stop wondering.
“News From Fukushima _ Meditation on an Under-Reported Catastrophe by a Poet,” directed by Yoshiaki Tago, gets a screening at Libra Hall in Tokyo SUN April 23, 2023, followed by My Poetry With Music.
The film documents a theater performance in San Francisco in 2017, directed by Carla Blank, starring Takemi Kitamura, Monisha Shiva and Shigeko Sara Suga with music by Stomu Takeishi, Isaku Kageyama, Kouzan Kikuchi and Joe Small. Lighting by Blu. Video by Yoshiaki Tago. Written by Yuri Kageyama.
We also did A Reading of My Poems with music. In the order they were read: “I Am The Virus” (please see below for the recording), “Hiphop Fukushima,” “Nothing Happens,” “ode to the stroller,” written and read by Yuri Kageyama with music by The YURICANE band featuring Nobutaka Yamasaki (piano), Takuma Anzai (drums), tea (vocals), Hiroshi Tokieda (bass) and Hideyuki Asada (guitar).
Yuri Kageyama · I Am The Virus _ a poem by Yuri Kageyama with piano by Nobutaka Yamasaki
I AM THE VIRUS
a poem by Yuri Kageyama, read with piano by Nobutaka Yamasaki. First published online in KONCH Magazine in 2020, compiled into a book in 2024, THE PLAGUE EDITION OF KONCH MAGAZINE, edited by Ishmael Reed and Tennessee Reed.
I am the virus
I thrive on mossy envious egos
They keep showing up
Offices, clubs, picnics,
Choosing being seen, hoarding
Over social dis-tan-cing
I am the virus
I fester in corona-shaped clusters
Commuter trains, cruises, crowds
Peering at the Olympic torch,
I love the naming “Chinese virus”
The taunts, attacks on slant-eyed people
I am the virus
I cower when folks stay in
Takeout food, work from home,
A meter apart on solitary walks,
Wearing masks, washing hands,
Mixing aloe and alcohol
I am the virus
The crazy evil devoured
By doctors, vaccines, canceled concerts
Turning into live-streamed music,
People who remember to tell those they love
How much they really love them.
All PHOTOS by On Lim Wong.