M
ODERN
E
NGLISH
T
ANKA
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Autumn 2006
Volume 1 Number 1
M
ODERN
E
NGLISH
T
ANKA
Autumn 2006
Volume 1 Number 1
Modern English Tanka
ISSN: 1932-9083 (Print Edition)
Print and Digital Editions
Denis M. Garrison, Editor
Email: editor@modernenglishtanka.com
Michael McClintock, Contributing Editor
Email: contributingeditor@modernenglishtanka.com
Published in Baltimore, Maryland, USA.
Copyright © 2006 by Denis M. Garrison; All Rights Reserved.
Modern English Tanka
, a quarterly journal, is dedicated to
publishing and promoting fine English tanka (including tanka
written in cinquain and cinqku set forms). We are interested in
both traditional and innovative verse of high quality and in all
serious attempts to assimilate the best of the Japanese
waka/tanka genres into a continuously developing English short
verse tradition. In addition to verse, we publish articles, essays,
reviews, interviews, etc., related to tanka.
Published through
Lulu Enterprises, Inc.
3131 RDU Center, Suite 210
Morrisville, NC 27560
www.lulu.com
Modern English Tanka — Autumn 2006 — Vol. 1, No. 1
is Copyright © 2006 by Denis M. Garrison.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced
in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means
including information storage and retrieval systems
without permission in writing from the publisher, except
by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review.
Original poetry, graphics, and article copyrights © 2006 by
the respective poets, writers, artists, and photographers.
Modern English Tanka
www.modernenglishtanka.com
Print Edition: ISSN 1932-9083
Digital Edition: ISSN 1930-8132
editor@modernenglishtanka.com
contributingeditor@modernenglishtanka.com
C O N T E N T S
Modern English Tanka — Autumn 2006
Volume 1, Number 1.
EDITORIALS
1
I’ll Tell You About Onions
by Denis M.
Garrison, editor.
5
Tanka and Its Influence on the Short Poem in
English
by Michael McClintock, contributing
editor.
TANKA
11
Melanie Alberts
13
Aurora Antonovic
15
Pamela A. Babusci
20
David Bacharach
21
James Roderick Burns
23
Tom Clausen
33
Janet Lynn Davis
36
Melissa Dixon
40
Jim Doss
43
Jeanne Emrich
45
Margarita Engle
51
Amelia Fielden
63
Bernard Gadd
64
Denis M. Garrison
68
Beverley George
69
Sanford Goldstein
77
Michael R. Goode
78
Sari Grandstaff
80
C W Hawes
85
Judy Kamilhor
86 Kirsty Karkow
88 Doris Kasson
91 M. Kei
97 Larry Kimmel
100 Deborah P Kolodji
101 J. Andrew Lockhart
108 Francis Masat
112 Michael McClintock
117 Michael Meyerhofer
120 Shanna Baldwin Moore
121 JB Mulligan
122 Amy Nawrocki
125 Dustin Neal
127 Pamela Miller Ness
133 Patricia Prime
139 Jack Prewitt
143 Kala Ramesh
145 Andrew Riutta
149 Adelaide B. Shaw
152 Guy Simser
155 Cheryl Stiles
156 Marie Summers
157 George Swede
161 Allen M. Terdiman
163 CarrieAnn Thunell
168 Kozue Uzawa
169 Ella Wagemakers
171
Linda Jeannette Ward
TAIGA
an'ya
179
cold cemetery.
180
if only there were.
181
midsummer night.
174
Robert D. Wilson
Michael McClintock
182
mannequins, Art by Karen J. Harlow.
183
on a visit, Art by Karen J. Harlow.
CarrieAnn Thunell
184
The road.
185
Oh great egret.
186
Two eyes.
187
How delicately.
188
Such longing.
189
This small cat.
190
The sweeping bend.
ESSAYS & ARTICLES
192
11 Good Kyoka: Experiments in English
by M. Kei.
209
The Tanka as Story
by David Bacharach &
Lynne Rees.
BOOK NOTES & REVIEWS
218
Mud on the Wall
by Jörgen Johansson
220
Tanka Fields
by Robert D. Wilson
221
Drops from Her Umbrella
by Laura Maffei
224
A Waka Anthology: Grasses of Remembrance,
translated by Edwin A. Cranston.
226
The Pie in Pieces
by Andrew Riutta.
227
Slow Spring Water
by Melissa Dixon. Review.
231 The Editors
233 Contributors
E D I T O R I A L S
1
I’ll Tell You About Onions
From this journal’s name,
Modern English Tanka
,
one might reasonably infer that the poetry published
herein would all be somewhat avant-garde, little like
the traditional Japanese tanka and its precursors, uta
and waka. In fact, the poetry in this premier issue
covers a fairly broad range on the traditional–modern
spectrum. However, the use of a natural, modern
English idiom (whether American, Canadian,
Australian, Kiwi, Indian, British, etc.) is common
throughout. We have tried to select out false notes,
whether Japonistic, anachronistic, or self-consciously
“poetical.” It is time to write, read, critique, and study
English tanka,
per se
, which presupposes the skillful
use of our living language rather than some faux-
Japanese-English or “Tontoism.”
So, what about onions? We all know this edible bulb
with its distinctive fragrance and flavor and the ability
to make us cry. The relevant point is that the onion
bulb is comprised of its youngest leaves, its oldest
leaves, and all those in between. They make the
familiar layers that characterize the onion. So, too, do
all the ancient and modern variations of the tanka,
together, comprise the tanka form. Some poets may
be antiquarians and only write in a slavish imitation
of ancient uta and waka; others may ignore those
venerable exemplars entirely and write modern free
verse poems that have only the most tangential
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
2
connection to the tanka tradition. Neither need
submit their work to
Modern English Tanka
. Tanka
poets, in any language, must integrate the ancient
tradition with the language actually spoken by current
speakers to produce authentic modern tanka.
Just as your nose will tell you when onions are
included in any savory dish, so a real tanka, even in
the most modern and colloquial language, has that
distinctive tanka essence. We may struggle to define
tanka, but we need not strain to recognize it. When it
is tanka, we know it.
Modern English Tanka
is dedicated to publishing and
promoting fine English tanka—both traditional and
innovative verse of high quality—in order to
assimilate the best of the Japanese uta/waka/tanka
genres into a continuously developing English short
verse tradition.
For reasons too far-ranging to rehearse here, English
long form poetry has fallen on hard times and many
venues do not want to publish poems more than thirty
lines in length. Perhaps as society accelerates,
attention spans shorten concomitantly. In any case,
“English poetry” is becoming synonymous with
“English short verse.” The continuing trend towards
popularity of Japanese short verse forms in English
reflects this sea-change in English poetry. The haiku
(and senryu) are so tightly condensed, however, that
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
3
they do not serve very well the needs of English lyrical
poetry.
On the other hand, the cinquain form invented by
Adelaide Crapsey, an Imagist poet, in the early
twentieth century, has been developing into a
respectable vehicle for the brief lyric. Insofar as some
American cinquain (and some even briefer cinqku)
have managed to embody that special tanka essence
within their set forms, we are open to publishing
tanka written in those forms. As any reader of this
issue will see, we publish 5-7-5-7-7 tanka and briefer
versions, even tanka verging upon free verse.
It is not the goal of
Modern English Tanka
to either
authoritatively define English tanka or sponsor any
particular formula or template. Rather, it is our goal
to give tanka poets a venue in which they can
showcase their tanka—not just their show-stopper,
standing ovation, fortissimo
tours de force
, but also
their quieter, more subtle tanka, their strange tanka,
their haunting tanka, their terrifying tanka; even their
snarky kyoka belongs. We want to give space to the
widest range of tanka because it is such a new form in
English. Only by publishing the full panoply of
English tanka, will we ever discover its particular
place in the English lyric tradition. While there are
many centuries to rest upon for Japanese tanka poets
(and they, nevertheless, are continually innovating),
English tanka is less than a century old and needs
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
4
plenty of room to grow and find its feet in the English
language.
We want to thank all the fine poets who have
contributed their work to this first issue of
Modern
English Tanka
. We are glad to furnish the boat for
this ride into the possibilities and potentials of tanka
in English, but we are mindful that
MET’s
contributing poets are the wind in our sails.
— Denis M. Garrison, editor
August 29, 2006.
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
5
Tanka and Its Influence on the
Short Poem in English
"He can compress the most words
into the smallest idea of any man I know."
– Abraham Lincoln
What Lincoln says here about his political colleague
caught me by the leg just as I was putting the final
touches on this essay. It made me wonder: Is the idea
I am trying to frame too tiny to find? Too
insignificant for caring about? It's too tough a call for
me to make, but I feel certain that I'm on the right
track. What Lincoln observes about his verbally-
endowed friend is very close to what I have observed
in the poetry churned out by America's 50,000-plus
“award-winning and acclaimed” poets over the last 50
years. And so I have put his remark at the head of my
essay in order to establish a theme, a core idea, in as
few words as possible (his). From here on out I will
just hope for the best and try to keep the discussion
free of split-hairs.
In these pages of
Modern English Tanka
, the
premiere issue, I see the beginnings of a great thing in
poetry. The short poem has always been with us,
dominated chiefly by the epigram and proverb,
particularly those translated from the Bible and from
the Greek and Roman poets, and found embedded in
various forms of native and folk literature, including
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
6
songs, lullabies, and various forms of prayer, homily,
and exhortation. Limericks, clerihews, nursery
rhymes, and various other forms of doggerel and light,
witty, scatological, occasional, or political verse, filled
out and completed the range of the short poem.*
In contrast to that history, here collected for our
scrutiny is something that
does feel
like the end of one
voyage and the beginning of a new, a journey in
modern prosody that involves, perhaps, the notion
that major poetry can be written within the five-line,
unitary wholeness of English-language tanka and that,
as a consequence and by virtue of influence, the short
poem in English may be equally well-embarked
toward that achievement. The influence of tanka
(a.k.a.
waka
) arrived early, in the work of the Imagists
(1913-22), but tanka has emerged and continues to
mature as a short form of English lyric only recently.
Supple, powerful, and elegant, the achievements of
contemporary tanka, and the scope and range of its
subject matter, are well exemplified in these pages.
There is at work here, in this relatively small gallery of
contemporary poetry, an accelerating, more
widespread application of a commonly-held discipline
and set of aesthetic principles and objectives
that—together, and yet in a diversity of individual
voices—appears to concentrate in the short poem, and
to bring more fully into play than ever before seen, the
bone, sinew, and tissue of the language that poetry
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
7
uses to impart human experience, discover meaning
in it, and hold it before the world for both pleasure
and understanding. That is not a small thing.
In a post-modern world where poets write primarily
for other poets, in a language often remote from
common speech, taking for their subject matter
material that is all but opaque to the common reader,
the tanka poets appear to have come together to
create a literature that is both lyric and personal and
also widely readable, conveyed in a language stripped
of all but the most essential conceits, and drawn from
the subject matter of daily, ordinary
life—imaginatively, but without ornament. Moreover,
they are writing a kind of poetry that the reader may
fully apprehend only by engaging its words and
phrases within the fullness of his or her own
experience of like ideas, emotions, and things.
The few words and lines of a tanka are like fingers
plucking a stringed instrument: Only a few strings are
plucked. The poem's sound passes into silence almost
as soon as it emerges, and in that interval the tanka
conveys its ideas, emotions, and objects as a unitary
whole, a singular impression having meaning. The
meaning is, in fact, in the answering echo within the
reader's mind, the totality of the reader's own
experience, and is an artifact of the words rather than
the substance of the words themselves. It is for that
reason that the tanka poets kiss the finer objectives of
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
8
minimalism without embracing the minimalist's faith
in words alone. The minimalist poets are materialists
at heart. However concrete the images used to convey
ideas and emotions, the tanka poet is a comparative
mystic for whom the word is not a thing or destination
in its own right but an immaterial, essentially cultural
construction that yields value and significance only in
relationship to other words as they are taken up from
the page together, in a poem, and sent echoing into
the human psyche where meaning finds a conscious
embodiment and relationship to life and individual
experience.
I think that is what tanka does, and what it achieves as
poetry, and why I think the best tanka are, in fact,
major poetry. In this much-awaited first issue of
Modern English Tanka
we have, I think, more than
two or three such masterpieces. That is enough to
justify our pleasure and the time we spend here, in
these pages which “lie before us like a land of dreams,
/ So various, so beautiful, so new . . .” **
— Michael McClintock,
contributing editor
September 10, 2006
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
9
_________
* See also by Michael McClintock “The Tanka Niche”
at tankasocietyofamerica.com, or “Compass,”
Ribbons
, June 2005.
**F rom“ DoverB each”b yM atthewA rnold( 1822-
88).
p
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
10
T A N K A
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
11
Melanie Alberts
on the floor,
my heart is hiking
mountains—
a houseful of clocks
begins to chime
I’m fine at night, alone.
But mornings, cool
sheets on your side
still tucked in,
I miss your weight
always hungry
always the same
two unleashed dogs
running up the driveway—
low banana moon
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
12
Melanie Alberts
black-capped birds
chase through the branches.
I wait for your return
with a glass of rosé,
this apology
on my thatched roof shack
mist settles—
early morning dream
of summer grasses,
footprints
when you were born
your mouth found me
under a cloud of blankets
we were one body again
in a narrow bed
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
13
Aurora Antonovic
once she said to me,
her eyes meeting mine,
“I don’t want to die you know”….
in nightly dreams she comes to me
proving she hasn’t
should I accept
the job offer
in Rome this spring?
the Japanese maple can’t decide
which way to sway in the June wind
how did this start,
and how will it end?
this romance that grew out of nowhere—
the incessant pounding
of spring rains on the windows
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
14
Aurora Antonovic
tenderly he cares for me
while I am sick
this stormy Wednesday evening…
this man who loves me
better than he loves himself
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
15
Pamela A. Babusci
rainy season . . .
bitterness
in her voice
after all those years
in therapy
detaching
from my dysfunctional family
i find myself . . .
now
what?
does a woman ever find
a man to love her
with total abandon?
spring rains overflowing
the begging bowl
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
16
Pamela A. Babusci
thick green tea . . .
pouring
nothingness
into
mindlessness
transforming
her former self
into her new self . . .
looking into the mirror
she sees her mother
sleeping
with the stars
instead of you . . .
i dig a grave
for loneliness
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
17
Pamela A. Babusci
having hot flashes
on a hot date . . .
where in my handbag
can i yank out my
youthfulness?
memorizing your face
every detail
every curve . . .
tracing your birthmark
with my tongue
— first published in
raw nervz haiku
1995
too shy to reveal
my hidden passions & yet
i dream about you
taking refuge within
my supple breasts
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
18
Pamela A. Babusci
parasols
at the bus stop
one white, one black . . .
shadows overlapping
strangers in the rain
— first published in
Heron Quarterly
1997
wind i will not hurry
to this wedding while
i am still unwed . . .
autumn leaves keep
falling endlessly
— first published in
American Tanka
2000
going
with my friend
for her chemotherapy
i arrive home & re-examine
my breasts
— first published in
tangled hair 3
2001
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
19
Pamela A. Babusci
making grandmother's
cassata cake
i ponder the beauty
of her sicilian eyes &
the hills of her village
— first published in
tangled hair 4
2004
even at 84
how caustic
my father's words
my therapist's number
disconnected
— first published in
tangled hair 4
2004
silence of water
through the bamboo pipe . . .
my mantra rising
like incense
like prayers
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
20
David Bacharach
how many years
have they been growing
behind the lilacs
these blood red peonies
I’ve just discovered
ganged up on
in the school yard
after hours
I learn the value
of animal rage
downstairs
my mother sits crying
upstairs
my father sits sweating
I roam the streets
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
21
David Bacharach
she muses
on our future
I resist the urge
to tell her
what the psychic said
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
22
James Roderick Burns
Along the roofline
between gaps in new shingles
down the builder’s chute
and out into the chaos
of the rough yard—an orange.
Through the thin cloth seat
of the auditorium
sudden vibrations
and snapping rivets, the mind
breaking free on bright steel wings.
Legerdemain—seized
with the possibilities
I fold down that page
and walk through the library doors,
draw a rabbit from a hat.
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
23
Tom Clausen
not much else to do
in line at the Hess station
but note her shy beauty
behind me and disclose it
in a little poem
in the blue cloth
printed with cranes
we place our parakeets
side by side in the hole
where the mystery goes
all of a sudden
the summer has turned
to the goldenrods . . .
this inner welling
that comes and goes
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
24
Tom Clausen
the walk back from Rite Aid
a twelve pack and
prescription in hand,
the gas station flag
flapping in the wind
like four grapefruits
that fit in a bowl
my wife explains a family
does not work with a watermelon
and three little plums
another day done
and neither good or bad
it was what it was,
I shoot a basket
in and out
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
25
Tom Clausen
this rainy day
here I am
the father of two children
trapped in the house
trying to catch a fly
my wife had told me
the dog likes to get up
at 5:30 am but while she
is away I discover he also
likes to sleep in
while the chickens
scratch and peck
some common sense
settles an old score
and I do not wish for something more
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
26
Tom Clausen
for another tomorrow
my wife deadheads the daylilies
while I carry just a few
stories of my parents
and their parents inside me
it’s not disappointment
in those who say
they know
but in myself for this lifelong
never knowing
good outdoors work
has filled this day
and brought me a lovely softness
to the late day sun
on the stone steps
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
27
Tom Clausen
twenty five years later
I pass the exit
that I once took
for a long weekend
in the promised land
maybe she too
has studied herself
and how her breasts lift
when she works
to put her hair up
never thought I'd see
the days of breakdowns,
uncontrollable laughter
and the haunts of deepest love
all escape me
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
28
Tom Clausen
just a little drive
to pick my son up
and bring him home
yet along the way I see
so much I've left behind
the appointment
in the woods
at the falls
was with no one
but the thought of you
my wife has instructed me
to throw out even more
and as I sit here
the sun filters through leaves
while I rummage my losses
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
29
Tom Clausen
the ants at my feet
so close, yet
so far—
how countless the women
I've come to fancy
inevitability
yes of course there is
inevitability,
will it keep us together
or drive us apart?
her look forlorn
as she sits in the car
her head against the window,
he stands there filling the tank
to go some more . . .
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
30
Tom Clausen
I know too well
the sadness
that would be the same
with each woman
I've longed for
we drove for miles
looking for a place to enter,
my girlfriend long ago
who wanted so earnestly
to get into nature
my children laugh
and say look at my face
with its unhappy aspect—
how could it be
I wonder to myself
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
31
Tom Clausen
such a hot night
that without a word
I go out behind the house
and sit there naked
looking at all the stars
this beautiful summer day
I wave to the new neighbor
and she happily waves back
the freedom of not knowing
much at all . . .
in the middle
of our big clean up
I set several maps aside,
places with promise
so far from here
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
32
Tom Clausen
out of all the lives
possible
my choices led me far and wide
only to return
to where I started
in her pristine office
the large desk calendar
has one neat aquamarine line
through each day
done
my father let me
discover most everything
for myself—
in silence I drive my son
to visit another college
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
33
Janet Lynn Davis
somewhere
among mountain wildflowers
like these
the grandfather I never met
both lived and died
you, convicted of fraud
and I, accessory
to murder—
these dark masks we sport
in my nighttime dreams
tall, unkempt
this black-eyed susan
rooted deep
into our neighbor’s bed. . .
we should keep the curtains closed
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
34
Janet Lynn Davis
around the edges
of my new hand mirror,
faux jewels glitter
as if such distraction
could brighten the view
my stolen
Valentine pendant,
at its center
a golden, mythical bird
wings no longer mine
a new heart charm,
another year of union;
I’ve wondered, though,
what happens when
all the links have been filled
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
35
Janet Lynn Davis
reading tanka,
and yet more tanka,
about cherry blossoms. . .
how I crave
the top of a sundae
— first published in
red lights
, June 2006
months later
he still clutches
the bowling ball—
all he could salvage
after Katrina
— first published in Wisteria, July 2006
the crackle and pop
of my breakfast cereal—
more news
about car bomb blasts
somewhere else in the world
— first published in
Wisteria
, July 2006
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
36
Melissa Dixon
keening Manitoba winds,
snow piling towards the roof—
wordlessly
my English mother
sets the kitchen table
— first pub. in
Slow Spring
Water
, book (Dixon) 2006
long distance
my sister and I recall
our green years—
age two and three, hand-in-hand
up and down our front steps
— first pub. in
TSA Newsletter
The Tanka Cafe
, 2003
shadows
of the spider plant
lengthen on my wall
if only sleep would come
as surely as the night
— first pub. in
Ribbons
, 2005
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
37
Melissa Dixon
words of love
I know I’ll never speak
stored in my notebook—
these silent pages
allowing them a little life
guitar solo
I recall that first night
you played for me—
head sideways, long fingers
softly stroking songs of love
— first pub. in
Simply Haiku
, 2005
pub.,
Slow Spring Water
, 2006
cautiously
letting you into my life
a thin strand of fear
that has always bound me
loosens and falls away . . .
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
38
Melissa Dixon
mid-river
stowing oars in the boat, I turn
my face to the sun
letting this urgent current
carry me wherever it flows
slow down, I whisper—
will there not always be
tea in my cup
and a half-written poem
when I leave this body?
— first pub. in
Tanka Splendor
award,
2002; Simply Haiku, 2004
Mount Baker
rising high beyond the sea—
as the tide glides back
I watch my white rose float away
with a poem for a sail . . .
— first pub. in
Simply Haiku
, 2005
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
39
Melissa Dixon
Sunday afternoon
driving in the park, windows wide
teaching Mozart
to the trees . . . and look!
a deer is crossing the road . . .
something
has been set free . . .
a gull
lazes past my window
bright white in the sun
— first pub. in
Gusts
, 2005
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
40
Jim Doss
patchwork of scrap cloth
oranges and browns
for the 40th year
leaves fall in the autumn
of my grandmother's quilt
the words tonight
born grey and cold
no light left in their eyes
time to give them
to the undertaker
her life's become a labor
of mirrors and surgeons
where each reflection
must grow more beautiful
than the last
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
41
Jim Doss
nowhere
to escape—
even in the john
the sound
of cell phones and pagers
easing a sweater
over my head
before sunrise
I see the sparks
of our rekindled love
the embrace
of the stairwells'
empty echo
my feet come
in search of you
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
42
Jim Doss
listening to cd's
on the ride to work
I study to relearn
the language
my ancestors forgot
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
43
Jeanne Emrich
she sits in silence
as the children play—
outside her window
a red oak that will hold
its leaves all winter
the door left open
to your childhood room
I play on the piano
a minuet Mozart composed
when he was six
with nothing
left to say
we hold hands
and go pick
wild asparagus
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
44
Jeanne Emrich
cursing
under the work light
our fingers fumble
with the carburetor—
closest we’ve been in years
this sunlit creek
rippling through the pines
no need today
to promise myself
anything
after the soap bubbles
we go inside—
the March wind
having stolen what’s left
of your childhood
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
45
Margarita Engle
white wall
in stark sunlight
cactus grows
pressed against the blue
of a mosaic horse
lava
a landscape
of wind
and petrified
thunder
house of balconies
an architectural
ode
to the sea
waves of wrought iron
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
46
Margarita Engle
thousands
of miles away
from the war
in wild oak forest
one yellow ribbon
an alpine
species of giant
dandelion
each puffy seed head
is big enough for three wishes
spring thaw
we cross the creek
on a bridge
of old Christmas trees--
still fragrant
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
47
Margarita Engle
saris
on a clothesline
wings
of color and light
spun by silkworms
wooden toys
made by a child
the guitar
is too small
for adult fingers
more war news
I feed a stray cat
and flip
the overturned beetle
back onto its feet
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
48
Margarita Engle
bridge
over crocodiles--
hungry children
watch tourists
throw food in the river
antique fair
a young man
kneels
beside the old violin—
reverent silence
silhouette
in tropical sun
old men
play dominos beside a wall
of crumbling stone
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
49
Margarita Engle
book heaven
an eccentric
collector
has moved all the works
of dead authors upstairs
valley of change
the pronghorn antelope
and grizzly bears
are gone—now I watch
as the last farms disappear
bear dogs
between hunting seasons
pacing
in their kennels
like captive bears
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
50
Margarita Engle
conga line
in my dream
a river
of people
rippling
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
51
Amelia Fielden
like spilt milk
on a blue tablecloth
clouds falter
across the autumn sky—
how far can I go
—
first published in
Ribbons
in the rear
of American Airlines
two-oh-eight
a flight attendant
knitting pink bootees
bright blue sky
university spires
stretching reaching
beyond this classroom
how much remains to learn
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
52
Amelia Fielden
a bit blurred,
his edgy good looks—
could three years
have aged me as much
as today’s lecturer
soft white wings
of seagulls flapping
past concrete
in city canyons
people go stop go stop
that small man
walking across a bridge
balloons aloft—
happiness bought or
happiness for sale
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
53
Amelia Fielden
she lingers there
a blonde in a black coat
embracing
an armful of tulips,
then slowly walks away
—
first published in
Presence
young leaves lift
in summer breezes
blowing green
over the old parapet
over the older river
during dessert
touching on the same old
sad topic
only experience
keeps the tears behind my eyes
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
54
Amelia Fielden
a rare reunion
updating current lives
kissed goodbye
in my cousin’s strong arms
the arc of memory
—
first published in
Yellow Moon
a dream of
cutting rain-wet roses
in your garden
that sense of belonging
I’ll always feel, always
sand drifting
in hollows and cracks—
the beach path
no-one I know
walks up any more
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
55
Amelia Fielden
green bottles
rolling gushing into foam
a seagull
flies off so easily
and we are beached here
casually
you talked I listened
that was all
except for a sea-eagle
scooping prey from the dunes
—
first published in
Gusts
breakers spraying
far-off rocky islands
rise and fall
rise and fall in rhythm
while we wait for resolution
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
56
Amelia Fielden
stretch of shore
quilted by seagull’s feet
clear water
scalloping the edges—
shall I swim to the horizon
I look up
to see a pelican
arcing through
cerulean blue
and my hopes take off
in my childhood
always the singing sea,
these last years
still pleasure in the swirl
below the lighthouse
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
57
Amelia Fielden
a dead gull
drifts on the rising tide,
grace and purpose
become feathered garbage
under bland summer skies
darkest night
on ambiguous seas
of memory
casting anxious nets,
hauling in the past
vibrating
under a lorikeet
the grevillea
yields its honeyed flower—
am I still a good mother
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
58
Amelia Fielden
clutching at
a stalwart eucalypt
the jasmine vine
is climbing skywards—
please don’t depend on me
kookaburra
perched as motionless
as a pine cone
on the shaggy old tree
let’s fly, let’s fly away
old habits
shouldn’t tie the heart—
it matters that
our hands can stretch and
stretch and never reach
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
59
Amelia Fielden
here and there
jacaranda blue
clouds the air—
a pall-bearer stumbles,
the lilies slip a little
—
first published in
Yellow Moon
gardenias
with the strongest of perfumes,
how swiftly
they were dying as we danced
where is the orchestra now?
—
first published in
Kokako
I’ve grown old
just listening to music—
where’s the need
to record the life of one
who plays no instrument
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
60
Amelia Fielden
snoring softly
twitching in your sleep
recent nights
more reassuring than
the jangle of our days
midnight call
an urgent awakening
to the voice
of no-one we know,
and it’s still raining
all those good years
of family life, work
and travel—
what if I lose the key
to my memories now
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
61
Amelia Fielden
light and shade
my life my poetry—
I drive past
a gaggle of bright cyclists
swooping from the dark forest
six o’clock
morning star a diamond
in sea mist
I’m searching for the start
of a brilliant tanka
today the sea’s
painted ultramarine
clouds are peaked
on the horizon
what is there for us
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
62
Amelia Fielden
small splashes
of green tea ice cream
on the last page
of your new manuscript—
our meeting, too, sweet and short
senior’s outing—
becoming aware that
I’ve entered
the time-zone where death parts
more often than divorce
up ahead
a silver curve of train
draws me smoothly
to the conclusion
of one happy day
—
first published in
Presence
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
63
Bernard Gadd
always we crossed hot
sand to glittering bays
skins seldom dry
never sat watching
rain puddle the lawn
in the bay you’re small
you swim panting back
I row closer afraid
of green depths you
labour across
far below our room
James Cook approached his murder
sheets gleam with sea light
from a crow’s nest we
might seem dismembered
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
64
Denis M. Garrison
I and mine
struggle on this peak
together
we are tiring—won’t someone
please throw five lines down
—
for Sanford Goldstein
in the clouds
your face for a moment
dissipated by wind
and drunk on sunlight
I call out for you again
after the storm
only our house stands
the wave of relief
is quickly poisoned
by a bitter worm of guilt
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
65
Denis M. Garrison
forbidden love
my hopeless hunger
for your touch
more secret than
a geisha’s blush
lean back on my arm
let your honey hair cascade
over the edge . . .
for that one naked moment
when neither of us can smile
come close, young woman,
I’ll tell you about onions:
they are the last sum
of all their layers, oldest
and youngest . . . yes, come closer
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
66
Denis M. Garrison
hours before dawn
drinking vodka on the porch
while others sleep
I turn off the light
and give the moth a break
pink-bellied pup
asleep in my lap
she’s so trusting
I sit still for awhile
and kid myself she’s right
late night T’aichung
lanterns sparkle in the lake
on a crimson bridge
my eyes full of beauty
my shoes full of blood
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
67
Denis M. Garrison
we smile through tears
and make hopeless plans
as if we had time
one of us is dying
and both of us know
gone so long
days pass without
remembering
waking to your voice
calling my name
an empty lot
except these five stone steps
granite solitude
there is so much to pass on
but no one there to listen
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
68
Beverley George
your childhood home—
let my foot fall softly here
and pause
in all those unmarked spaces
that gave shape to your life
demolition—
crashing walls and trees resound
from the house next door
on the shore in wind and wave
I glimpse my own scattering
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
69
Sanford Goldstein
alone at home
in the heat of summer,
I iron this and that:
once the dead one
held a sleeve shirt against her
finding
the wimp in me
persists,
I hang back letting others talk, do,
I wait for five lines down
waiting
even into my eighties
for some change,
find the patterns fold
into neat tucks on a table
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
70
Sanford Goldstein
the teak table
I spread these fingers over
gives strength,
and the teak chair I sit on
makes even the regal not that far
so silent
these three weeks,
my sedated brother,
wrists bound
to his intensive-care bed
another life
in Japan's going on,
another world—
my mate's stooped figure
gathering wood in the rural cold
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
71
Sanford Goldstein
oatmeal
too much this morning
after the Oscars,
I settle my knife and fork
for one thin pancake
you're pessimistic,
my friend tells me
over lunch—
I invent some optimism
on my cheese cake fork
each life
progresses from youth
to age,
and still my blinders
remain steady
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
72
Sanford Goldstein
brief
they are and more brief,
these five lines down,
and still, still, the long
aftermath when they are done
missing
even a frog's repeated night cry
on my American sojourn—
returning, I will stand by a rice field
near my rural home
restless
from the crawl into bed
to the alarm at six,
the only stars are on the ceiling
of my granddaughter's borrowed room
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
73
Sanford Goldstein
ages ago
I saw a homeless man
cutting newspapers,
now the sudden dark corner
where poems are spilled
how confident
that elderly psychic
about the color of a dress,
the disease a husband died of,
a better economy in July
supper
at a millionaire's house
with sixty-six guests,
head of a table they put me
and I manage a talk six persons down
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
74
Sanford Goldstein
I listen to others
tell their sad stories,
my ear a soft carpet
for blues day or night,
for blues quiet or loud
meeting her once
and saying farewell,
these tears,
and I wonder if frailty
thy name is man
crying
before my granddaughter's
junior high chums—
it was a recall
of the Hiroshima maidens
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
75
Sanford Goldstein
the soft
cotton-like ball
of a dandelion,
a finger flick and at least
I can scatter seed in the world
his piercing eye
that thrust itself out and in,
my Zen master's legacy;
dead now, and his long sleeves
still hide contrapuntal mysteries
once,
I samurai'd my coffee cup
at an empty world;
now the tea whisk in the master's hand
continues to spin in my mind
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
76
Sanford Goldstein
no circle
woven round
me thrice,
and I have not drunk
the milk of paradise
in the rain
I watch waves lap
the shore,
in the rain
I walk back to my car
in a wheelchair
that frail body rigid
like a chipped stone,
traces of revenge gathering
in her string-like fingers
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
77
Michael R. Goode
arriving in time
for a front row seat
clear stream reflecting
black water bugs’
dance
evening fire
dreaming of spring
the old dog sighs
puppies gnawing
his ear
where does the dark
come from she asked
while I pondered
she answered herself
— outside
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
78
Sari Grandstaff
I sit and breathe
the children outside
sing and clap:
“Who me? Yes you!
Couldn’t be! Then who?”
young surfer dudes
on the terrace next door
overlooking
the outside shower
at our rented beach house
holding my hand
as we go in
to the restaurant
we skip
right to dessert
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
79
Sari Grandstaff
we stride
across miles of green fields
flecked with gold
to claim our baggage—
commercial carpet
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
80
C W Hawes
on a post
at the edge of the field
a cat
sitting so very still
in the stillness of the noon
drinking this tea
called Green Serenity
as snow falls
how sweet and warm the taste
of your eager mouth
tightly holding
your hand in mine I ask
which way
you softly reply
take the long way
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
81
C W Hawes
hot cocoa
and the cool mornings
of autumn
this breakfast in bed
and the all day smile
while smoking
a cigarette you said
"I love you"
and when done you
turned to another
tonight's sky
bereft of the moon
and stars
if she were here
her face would be enough
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
82
C W Hawes
walking to work
in the dark and the rain
with a co-worker
we talk about the weather
our umbrellas touching
I am drowning
in the cold cold lake
and you are there
waving and smiling at me
completely oblivious
especially now
as the nights grow longer
tears do not stop
and so this is my autumn
lost in a sea of thoughts
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
83
C W Hawes
it's sad to learn
love's so very much like dew
as each day passes
I can only wonder
how long will the tears fall
drifting
in and out of sleep
I hear voices
but perhaps it's only
this burning fever
you have passed
from flesh to memory
at long last
I've moved on and yet
my fingers long to touch
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
84
C W Hawes
the drizzle
slowly soaks my coat
as I walk
looking for the house
where I first met love
clouds piled up
along the horizon
white mountains
stir within my heart
the desire to wander
from the dream
he awakes with a start
heart pounding
in the distance the song
of the siren again
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
85
Judy Kamilhor
the former site
of the women's house
of detention
one red rose poking
through the iron bars
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
86
Kirsty Karkow
years when sadness
greeted every dawn
I would not change—
there lurked the bitter seeds
from which this sweetness grew
the poet's garden
blossoms swell to bursting
then drop petals
madcap color, compost piles
and jars of potpourri
obsessively
he carves eagles. . .
not for sale
never having known
the freedom of flight
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
87
Kirsty Karkow
first light! listen,
as songbirds celebrate
this quiet time
I keep longing for a jet
to throw around the sky
— for Don Emigholz
where the man
fixes trucks and cars
a loaner dog
pricks up his ears
joins me on my walk
it seemed to me
no leaf was moving
that the world was still
but here's a smallish breeze
ruffling chipmunk fur
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
88
Doris Kasson
summer storm
young and in love
we embrace
the wild winds caressing us
each cloud a celebration
hurricane warning
the last window sealed shut
water jugs filled
in the silence of the safe room
the noise of our breathing
the self-help books
lie
in a heap on the floor
no answer comes
to the knock at her door
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
89
Doris Kasson
tells me
she cried reading my poem
not for me
some long lost memory
her very own
snow mounts
on the window ledge
i mix my oils
paint it black
the old dogwood tree
etched into memory
her sagging smile
our family bible
me flipping pages
eyes on the clock
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
90
Doris Kasson
once again he tries
to explain it to me
electricity
how it works and oh yes
why he left his wife
yet another
family reunion
ending the debate
grandpa takes a seat
at the children's table
irreplaceable
the cup that was dropped
still
i'll box up the pieces
stave off the mourning
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
91
M. Kei
the dowager houses
stand primly in their ragged porches
looking embarrassed
as ladies do
in such circumstances
the slattern houses sag
on a mean street in a small town,
floral sheets for curtains
cinder blocks for steps
and the fetid smell of despair
In my dreams,
a lean, low-hulled corsair
glides up the bay—
and wrecks on rocks
of memory.
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
92
M. Kei
Accustomed as I am
to angry words,
it is kind words
that make me tremble
like water in a glass.
that man,
he teaches my daughter
that the golden veneer
of love
is very thin
tracing the face
of the man in the moon
my own face
looks back
at me
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
93
M. Kei
His Majesty the Cat
must not be disturbed;
he lolls
upon his throne
of sunshine.
Piñatas
hanging in the air
waiting for a sharp whack
to break them open
and spill their meaning.
My heart:
black linen
hung at night
in the shadow
of a crow.
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
94
M. Kei
An abandoned farmhouse
stone eyes gaping
slack-mouthed door
where only flies buzz
in and out.
Late winter,
the bleak trees leafless
until a cardinal lands,
then dead trees everywhere
burst into red bloom.
Rags,
tatters,
and remnants,
full of raveled
winds.
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
95
M. Kei
Low grey hills
of barges loaded with gravel,
softened almost into beauty
by the rising of the mist
on the evening bay.
No answer
is an answer,
and so,
after a decent interval,
I abandon hope.
Another man decides
he likes my lonely perch.
Two
is too crowded,
so I leave.
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
96
M. Kei
Give me the heart
of an old chief
and I’ll make it
young again,
dancing on the Red Road.
Trust has nothing
to do with it, either
you have the courage
to step off the cliff of love
. . . . or you don’t.
Ankle-aching acres
of wooded cliffs
between here and there,
but oh! the view
from Turkey Point!
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
97
Larry Kimmel
noon.
an envelope with my name
in her handwriting—
how the weather of my body
changes
I’ve heard tell,
that a plenty of juniper shows evidence
of holy ground—
let us spread a blanket here
and marry
“okay! okay!
he’s everything a woman wants.
now what’s for supper?” —
the petals of yesterday’s rose
lie around the vase
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
98
Larry Kimmel
in rural Vermont
we stroll
into an October calendar
time
the enemy of lovers
in the shade
of the wisteria, sketching from a snapshot,
he caresses her new—
erases the years
with the rub of desire
season’s end.
in the field above the house tonight
a lone chirring—
o brother cricket
I know I know
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
99
Larry Kimmel
“be joyous for me
when I go” — well
my friend,
nobody tells me
how to grieve
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
100
Deborah P Kolodji
a broken stem
of agapanthus
bobs in the wind—
my sigh as I think of you
when no one is listening
blue damselfly
over the water lilies
this summer day
currents swirl below
with my day dreams
first thumps
of suitcases arriving
from your plane—
I turn my back on baggage
and welcome you back
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
101
J. Andrew Lockhart
walking close
on a dusty path
as the sun falls—
the bugs complain loudly
as if the heat is my fault
lightning
blinds me as I drive
through the storm
reminding me of you
and our night on the hill
she said
she would never
marry—
thinking of her while
watching my children
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
102
J. Andrew Lockhart
my daughter,
in her swimsuit,
looks out the window
watching robins splash
in the birdbath
how many days
will it be until
I see you?
the last lily
falls to the ground
aimlessly walking
through downtown as a stranger,
watching strangers,
as my soul rests
at home far away
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
103
J. Andrew Lockhart
light rain
caresses the roof
at midnight—
she sighs
in a dream
reflection,
the repetition of
summer sunlight—
looking at photos
from last winter
slowly moving
into my private world, while
staring at the stars—
fireflies try their best
to lighten my mood
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
104
J. Andrew Lockhart
sharing wine
as we watch the
slow moving stars—
our love blends
and ages
I'm covered with
the blood of my brothers
and my enemies—
turn off the news,
at least tonight . . .
passion burns
higher as the breeze
blows through the field—
watching you walk
through wild flowers
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
105
J. Andrew Lockhart
wading in
humid air
past midnight
imagining stars
through the clouds
you gently
touch my arm
at dawn—
the birds take my feelings
and put them in music
looking through
a foggy window
as rain drops
land on cracked ground
and dead grass
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
106
J. Andrew Lockhart
heat tries hard
to divert my attention,
but it fails—
the sun falls earlier
today than yesterday
rain drops bounce
off the shimmering
lake as I
walk alone,
missing my youth
children play
in the city park
under the sun
as the elderly man
walks with his oxygen tank
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
107
J. Andrew Lockhart
my vision,
altered by fog
in the cool morning
sending my thoughts
from summer to fall
abandoned home
surrounded by
a wooden fence—
my spirit tangled in
unkempt wisteria
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
108
Francis Masat
Key West afternoon—
a homeless man
on the beach
a blind woman
in the library
skimming rocks—
stillness and the stars
return
each
time
flowers
breach the gray ash
breaking through from the past
showing us the way to begin
once more
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
109
Francis Masat
flowing water
under icy banks
the rain barrel
already full
of tadpoles
the stack of books
I want to read
gets higher
sleeping more
as I get older
harvest moon
on thin ice
a leaf spins
in early darkness
smoke twirls
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
110
Francis Masat
winter beach—
enjoying shade
under the palms
watching tourists
sunbathe
rest home garden—
gray and white motes
drift in sun rays
evening shadows
creep along the path
music
helps sooth my soul
helps get me through the night
my sadness then is forced to wait
it’s cue
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
111
Francis Masat
sudden shower
dogs, tourists, locals
running together
the first drops
raise dust
Do you
remember all
the things we planned to do,
the places we would go some day?
Did you?
wine by candlelight—
we trade clothes for satin sheets
in a jasmined breeze
the soft gentle sounds
of sleep
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
112
Michael McClintock
many days after
cultivating attitudes
rich in depression,
I go outside for the mail
as if on a great journey
stuck on a bus
crossing endless Nebraska,
too much on my mind—
ah, on the noon-bright wheat
the wind and its shadows
at the center
of Manhattan
a manhole cover
catches the rain
and makes it swirl
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
113
Michael McClintock
traveling a country
far too barren to love,
we changed for good
in that bleak motel,
having only each other
choices, choices
at the little shop
on the avenue—
for a friend who’s far away,
the card with the paper circus
I settle within
some uttermost dwelling
before sleep,
taking up the dream-life
in sure and certain hope
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
114
Michael McClintock
nothing like Bach
to help us choose the flowers
we take to the graves—
late spring colors always
the brighter for Memorial Day
I’ve asked the sparrows
to be quiet today,
in respect for the dead—
to fidget less and sit
where I tell them to sit
for sacred things,
the cobwebs
never stir . . .
I wish there were a way
I might console them
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
115
Michael McClintock
screwing a dimmer bulb
into the garden lantern . . .
soon the moths
are up to their old game again
this muggy night in August
one whole week
I wait in a jury room
reading fantasy novels;
our group is never summoned,
crime in the city has ceased
where do the gods get
this idea they can play
pinball with our lives? —
that is as far as I go
in my lament for the world
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
116
Michael McClintock
when life ends
the number of things
I leave undone
will be fewer, if today
I tell no lies
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
117
Michael Meyerhofer
after lunch
with a deaf friend—
the percussion
of a lone raindrop
on my earlobe
cruise ship—
laughter and music
beneath the stars
never have I felt
so lonely
christmas season—
in human art class
his paintbrush gives
the nude model
a breast enlargement
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
118
Michael Meyerhofer
Renaissance Faire—
behind the tents
a column of knights
stacking their lances
in a U-Haul
listening to Bach
while making love—
her tiny gasp
between the fourth
and fifth movements
— first published in
American Tanka 14
forming a bonsai
out of binder clips—
walking by
my supervisor
trims a branch
— first published in
American Tanka 15
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
119
Michael Meyerhofer
accidentally loading
an old roll of film—
one lover
superimposing
the next
— first published in
American Tanka #13
barefoot, she smiles
stepping out
of a little silken
puddle—
her nightgown
— first published in
bottle rockets #7
cloudless night—
billions of stars
in the bullfrog’s eyes
still he winces
from my flashlight
— first published in
Simply Haiku
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
120
Shanna Baldwin Moore
heat waves
of the high desert
fill the air you breathe
escape into the shady place
your mind
the forest chatters
all around
from tree to tree
the language of the mist
echoes in the outhouse
tiptoeing
through the badlands
my son
wanting to be bad
while walking the line
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
121
JB Mulligan
Wild yellow fire
back among the bare trees:
an early bush
announces spring's approach
with a clear, bright voice.
A grey, rusted van
reflected in the water
in a pothole.
An old man climbs slowly out,
stretches, smiles, and walks away.
Warm morning breeze,
whispering of the river—
but still no peace.
The water trying to say a name,
the air filled as my heart is filled.
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
122
Amy Nawrocki
so far, the light bends
just beyond sanctuary,
beyond the blue hope
of a wandering eye without
the window’s patient guidance.
a kiss: your tongue finds
my tongue following the way
into blue quiet
and perfect magic. such lips
know this place of strange comfort.
just for good measure
two pens find their way behind
the clip of my ear
one pen for deceitfulness
one for the bare bones of truth.
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
123
Amy Nawrocki
neolithic curves
around the soft banister
of a staircase. Up
toward the loft, the blue shoes
of her dainty feet step up.
spring’s voice comes in, not
bursts of green as expected,
but subtle, dainty
and superimposed atop
the bumblebee’s bumble
at last the cricket
found its way toward the edge
of the wide, deep house.
along the way its song cried
openly to crisp night air.
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
124
Amy Nawrocki
Am I your good queen?
Does my heart anticipate
a flutter upon
your entrance? How wide must my
kingdom be to house your love?
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
125
Dustin Neal
visitation . . .
my brother’s watch
beeps
to let me know
he’ll be gone soon
family gathering;
the silence
between my mother
and stepfather
colder than the rain
new law!
nine o'clock curfew . . .
alone
my father drinks
with the lights off
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
126
Dustin Neal
mother and i
share grandma's quilt
to stay warm . . .
the old scars between
us still not stitched
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
127
Pamela Miller Ness
The whole of me
is like a composition book:
on faded lines
I censor my life
in peacock ink.
Mother & I
don't speak of it
this Mother's Day
the white irises
tightly furled.
Cold rain
this first day of spring;
I discard
can after can of old paint,
the plaid shirt you never wore.
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
128
Pamela Miller Ness
Lakeside walk:
strips of birch bark peel
like layers
of live heart these days
of her dying.
this time
I am there
in the dream where
Mother dies
again
the rose garden
in full summer glory
today
I feel
like a rose
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
129
Pamela Miller Ness
Stuck
in a downpour
the wipers
whip our small talk
back and forth.
In queue
for take-off, thoughts
ricochet
from Takuboku to the dog
dying back home.
Time
since her death . . .
the pattern
of scratch marks on bedrock
as the glacier recedes.
— first published in
Lilliput Review #141,
2005
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
130
Pamela Miller Ness
Shivers of rainbow
like silk scarves
last night
I dreamt we floated
over Niagara Falls.
— first published in
American Tanka #4,
1998
Meet me
amid lilies on the trail
to the sea;
to this wet green world
whisper words.
— first published in
Woodpecker, V:2,
2000
Folding the first
of a thousand paper cranes
this new year
her cancer
has returned.
— first published in
Tanka Journal #18,
2001
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
131
Pamela Miller Ness
A cool wind
after the heat wave—
walking
the old road
without you.
— first published in
Woodpecker VIII:1,
2002
Father's
tangled mind
I rub
the strength
in his shoulders.
— first publ. in
Raw NerVZ Haiku VIII:3,
2002
Time
of metastasis.
How tightly
she packs the beds
with impatiens.
— first published in
Tanka Journal #21,
2002
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
132
Pamela Miller Ness
To Guanyin
seated on my study shelf:
grant me
grace when the words flow
and grit in the silences.
— first published in
TSA Newsletter IV:3,
2003
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
133
Patricia Prime
ankle-length ball dress
flowers scattered in your hair
an inside light
from the hired limousine
as you walk towards the future
my daughter
eating a sandwich
leaves small kisses
at the edge of the bread,
draws them into her open mouth
against the blue sheets
you curl close as two speech marks
honeymoon couple
sleeping in my spare room
before an early morning flight
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
134
Patricia Prime
ninety-two-year-old
bare armed in the hospice
discusses his service
in the Pacific war . . .
his leather dog-tags
inside the dark house
your messages free fall
from the answer machine
sensitive to my touch
as the mimosa leaves
ship’s memorial
placed on the cliff top’s
blurred edge
the list of drowned sailors
gradually dims on grief’s plaque
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
135
Patricia Prime
in the new house
everything they need
except a stove . . .
each points a finger at space
by the wall that should be hot
city street
a Chinese busker
playing his flute
reminds me of that first morning
waking in a Beijing hotel
death of a poet
I mark my address book
with an asterisk
late at night, no-one to see,
I read his poems in bed
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
136
Patricia Prime
sixteen
I brushed grandma’s hair
it fell easily
bleached ivory
by the hard sun
in rotorua
I bathe in a hot pool
called purapurawheta
touched by sunlight
a tree fern unfolds
at the maori centre
I cradle in my hand
a bone pendant
its koru shape
circle within a circle
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
137
Patricia Prime
evacuation—
an empty biscuit tin
with its array of buttons
shifting in my hands
entertained me for hours
all the old ladies
who lived in my street
have gone:
one with a mobile scooter,
one with a stick, passed like spring
beneath a rimu tree
in the new garden
a mosaic birdbath
with the tip of my finger
I break the crust of ice
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
138
Patricia Prime
pushed to the limit
I stand on this bridge
and look around
at the unfolding willows,
the curl of ponga fronds
sea fog
the sound of a ship’s klaxon
across the harbour
echoed by the squawk of chickens
from a neighbour’s backyard
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
139
Jack Prewitt
a shopkeeper stops
sweeping his footpath
smiles as I pass…
this rite of passage
makes my august day
slack tide
row boats at anchor
in disarray—
your dalliance leaves
my life directionless
late summer
the river meanders
toward the sea . . .
why should we hurry
to the end of everything
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
140
Jack Prewitt
a flame tree
theatrical among
grey gums—
in a crowded room
my eyes find you
torn cobwebs
flutter at the window—
I untangle
the satin bed sheets
you wouldn’t share
when you
and your suave husband
have gone
my dog will sit by my side
—honest, I didn’t tell him
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
141
Jack Prewitt
rainforest trail
a sinuous lawyer vine
embraces me
it too, has barbs
that never let go
a fly
is laying its eggs
on my dinner
I do not know the fly
or take it personally
a photo
of a wedding reception
everyone smiling
the cake still perfect
the steel knife shining
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
142
Jack Prewitt
blood drips
from my index finger…
it clots
half way down a page
of the pruning manual
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
143
Kala Ramesh
truth lies
embedded in maya
and, beneath the veil
once lifted
truth lies
flipping stones
I see it skip three
four times on the lake
which has achieved
perfect stillness
they say
waxing and waning
the moon never-reaching
in truth, truth lies
between the shores
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
144
Kala Ramesh
talking
of a ‘live-in’ relationship
a concept hard to accept
I see the flickering butterfly
has no such qualm
two knotted trees
knotting still further
grow skyward . . . poor souls,
even heaven
can’t part them now!
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
145
Andrew Riutta
sunday evening
drinking cold beer
in a hot shower
I pray
there is no god
— for Tom Clausen
for my birthday
I want to be a boy
again
just me and my dog
playing dead to the world
untouched
by the sharpest corners
of this world
a lone breast feather
in the shade of a maple
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
146
Andrew Riutta
and to think
I once believed
the clothesline
was the only thing
that kept neighbors apart
this night
more than others
I’m tempted
to scratch my back
on that rusty nail
a banana peel
an empty wine glass
in ways
I thought not possible
the world is renewed
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
147
Andrew Riutta
a stone
perfect for sitting
a chill
as I try once more
to comfort myself
how unfortunate
this burn that pulses
on my hand
was not caused
by my own warmth
unseen crows
call out from the fog
if only
I were the man
I intended to be
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
148
Andrew Riutta
harsh words
have ground his teeth down
to tiny daggers
this man who picks lilacs
for his dying mother
— for Pat
not so different
from the AUM she sleeps to
the hum
of a Junebug’s wings
as it dies
— for my wife
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
149
Adelaide B. Shaw
tea roses
slipping through my fingers,
the smooth petals,
each one a memory
of you
your birthday today—
so many years we came
with gifts of love;
a spring celebration
no longer observed
lilacs
stretching into the blue
too high to reach
their fragrance fills my
heart with longing
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
150
Adelaide B. Shaw
our good-byes said
the cold of morning lingers
throughout the day;
not for months yet
will there be spring
idling away
a winter afternoon
the sunlight shifts;
inch by inch shadows
bring on the cold
piles of leaves
compacted by the rain
slowly fermenting;
the cycle of change
continues unchanged
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
151
Adelaide B. Shaw
brush fire in the hills—
at sunset an orange sky
reflected in the ocean;
all this beauty from the ashes
of the grieving
a quiet moment
when party guests have gone—
sitting here with you
there never has been a need
for the company of others
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
152
Guy Simser
In shoreline waves
at Dieppe, 1942,
poppies blossom
bloody row upon
bloody row
War widow—
since then, every day
she takes
her
medicine, from
her
pill box
In grade ten science
my timid left hand fondled
a warm candled egg
and within days, my
first love’s pale, right breast
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
153
Guy Simser
Your milkweed pod
fit my cupped palm perfectly
and when gently squeezed
opened with a sigh, proffering
my first touch of moist silk
Searching the copse
for that cicada in heat
and finding
only silence
and a lost youth
Growing in this
delicate nest of entwined grass
a tiny blue egg
and in there, a robin
that cannot dream
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
154
Guy Simser
Who else amongst us
sees that fading silver trace
of a snail’s passing
end to end across
this chiselled epitaph?
Church doves, forever
in their white habits, still flock
to vesper tolls, still
genuflect to their ark, so
evidently land-locked
Serenely floating
up into this blue curved sky
in this clear lake, I
extend my hand
to Michelangelo’s
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
155
Cheryl Stiles
in
M
theory
one universe after another
eleven dimensions
a sacred geometry
your body knotted with mine
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
156
Marie Summers
the sunrise
in a drop of rain . . .
the doctor informs us
your surgery went
as planned
rosy sunset
over the lake . . .
wanting to set sail
and follow
the colors
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
157
George Swede
As the sun sinks, I
float in a serene, purple
red and yellow sea—
my sense of self shrunk
to a crumb of salt
The August meadow
awash with the colors
of wild flowers
yet an autumn chill
has entered my bones
During winter the evergreens
stood out in the forest, but
now one must search—
the same as for truth
among all that is said
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
158
George Swede
The paper reports
a young woman’s remains found
in three garbage bags—
from the deck, I finally
sweep the early fallen leaves
Somewhere in this city
the man who dismembered
a young woman—
what do they mean to him
these bright red sunset streaks?
The morning after
our fight, I try to think
of what to say—
the sky gray, the air hot, wet
and all the leaves drooped
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
159
George Swede
When I live more
I write less
and when I write more
I live less—
in the robin’s nest, a cuckoo
At the window display
of the anti-aging store
a stooped, wrinkled lady—
lovely in her display
of life’s last stage
Interlocked
her back to my front
just as when we fell asleep—
diagonal sunlight
across the blinds
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
160
George Swede
A mutinous self
is trying to be captain of
what others see as me—
old yacht left high on shore with
marsh grass swaying on its deck
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
161
Allen M. Terdiman
At the monthly
tanka workshop
a poem about a child’s death—
an echo of gravel
against a coffin
In the garden
on my birthday—
green leaves
among the forsythia
tell that spring too is older.
Seventieth birthday reunion
with childhood friends—
eight revelers
fill empty spaces
at a table set for ten.
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
162
Allen M. Terdiman
Magnolia blossoms
blanket the park meadow—
an old woman
warming in the sun
removes her sweater
A frantic search
for a subway without a name—
I wake
longing for an embrace
at the end of the line
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
163
CarrieAnn Thunell
The aftertaste
of honeybush tea—
my tongue
is mindful
as a hummingbird.
Dark clouds
obscure her naked beauty.
The shy moon
is full of longing.
Such is my longing for you.
When the last leaf
has fallen, and all is buried
in snow, wait
for the kiss of spring blossoms
and summer’s passion.
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
164
CarrieAnn Thunell
Another long
rumpled weekend.
We bask
in slothfulness
just past middle age.
Li Po wrote
of the moon riding the waters.
Centuries later
this same waxing moon
follows me like a hound.
Two men lean
over a game of
Go
.
The field
is a maze of black and white.
Their coffee and wives cool.
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
165
CarrieAnn Thunell
One thin line
divides ocean fog
from waves.
One man gathers up
my life-worn heart in his.
Neon lights
crowd Basho’s mountains.
Stars no longer shine.
No refuge remains
from urban scents and sounds.
That one star.
Shall I call it my own?
If I did
I’d lose the river of heaven
for a dust mote!
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
166
CarrieAnn Thunell
Rich
with star-jewels,
rainbows,
and sunrises;
owning nothing, I own everything.
How much
of myself must I sell
to buy safe
passage to a forest grove
to build my hermitage?
The world
seen through the straw hat
of greed:
all is strife and hoarding.
Better to have stayed in the trees!
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
167
CarrieAnn Thunell
Wearing
his victim’s sweater,
the soldier
was warmed by the dog
who mistook one for the other.
I practice tai chi.
A great medicine wheel
spirals with life.
Earth is dancing
about her sun.
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
168
Kozue Uzawa
my lunch
one big pizza triangle—
a feeling of
something missing
grows as I eat
slowly
I open my wings
and let this loneliness
fly away
in the summer forest
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
169
Ella Wagemakers
night clouds
swallow the wafer-thin
moon
darker than shadows
my graying hair
wild grass
blowing in the wind
how carefree
were my summer skirts
before the men came
how slowly
the old house crumbles
a heap of stones
long before the fire
burned all my love
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
170
Ella Wagemakers
to her
who almost was my mother
a gentle kiss
for all the lives we had
that never were
deep pink
tulips adorn my garden
the colour
of the crayons I used up
to make them real
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
171
Linda Jeannette Ward
your urgent request
to see me again
after a decade
i begin searching
for the me you thought i was
I set the white table
expecting your arrival
but only wind
the color of grief
blows open my secret door
she wraps burlap
around jonquil bulbs
as if
harboring spring
were possible
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
172
Linda Jeannette Ward
the begging bowl
found floating in the fountain
will hold the moon
if i tilt it
a certain way
over shared shrimp cocktail
I confess
to my only friend
who also knows love
with more than one man
three aisles over
from suicide bombers
on wide screen TV
I shop for lettuces
to the tune of
"Imagine"
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
173
Linda Jeannette Ward
curled
inside a snail shell
i feel the confines
molding me
into a posture of bliss
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
174
Robert D. Wilson
laboring in a field
of mirrors,
she harvests her
reflection
again and again
what would i do,
lake, if you were to
dry up and the
fish inside of you,
were made of paper?
she’s more than
a bargirl peddling
summer in a
humid room with
calloused hands
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
175
Robert D. Wilson
like a coyote,
the wind, its mournful
wail, fueling a
night of wide-eyed
children
where you were a
moment ago; a carved
out moon dripping
could-have-beens
into dark coffee
we huddled
under our table in
the mess hall
until the dragon passed;
the sky raining metal
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
176
Robert D. Wilson
is this the darkness
i stared into as a
young man, when
owls became ghosts
. . . and sanity scurried?
what will this woman
do when she is too old
to lay on her back,
the ceiling over her,
bleeding shrapnel?
sing to me, river,
the lullaby you sing
each year, when
water spills over the stones
of a young boy’s dream
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
177
Robert D. Wilson
i’m not ready
to fly with you, crow,
into an unknown
blackened by a night
of unsure moons
return to me
the dream i used to
dream when reeds
whispered your name
between clouds
when i am your age,
old man, will i too stare
into nowhere, singing
children’s songs I
can’t remember?
MODERN ENGLISH TANKA – Autumn 2006
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T A I G A
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184
Taiga by CarrieAnn Thunell.
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185
Taiga by CarrieAnn Thunell.
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186
Taiga by CarrieAnn Thunell.
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187
Taiga by CarrieAnn Thunell.
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188
Taiga by CarrieAnn Thunell.
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189
Taiga by CarrieAnn Thunell.
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190
Taiga by CarrieAnn Thunell.
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191
A R T I C L E S
&
E S S A Y S
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192
11 Good Kyoka :
Experiments in English
M. Kei
In Japan, kyoka was comic verse considered unsuitable
for the more courtly tanka anthologies; kyoka is what
poets did when they were playing around or had had a
little too much sake. These verses were rarely written
down, but some did get recorded. Eventually, at about
the same time as senryu was becoming popular, kyoka
also had its heyday. Kyoka lampooned the tanka of its
day and of previous centuries, as well as admitting
subjects to the poetic lexicon that were considered
vulgar or political or simply taboo for the refined taste
of tanka poets and readers.
Needless to say, ordinary folks had a blast writing and
reading kyoka. They formed circles to study and share
their own comic verses and often commissioned
woodblock prints to display their kyoka. Yet kyoka
today is nearly dead in Japan and has not yet caught
on North America; although arguably many of the
verses published in English as ‘tanka’ are in fact kyoka.
Be that as it may, the English language already has a
five line humorous verse, the limerick, so what does
kyoka have to offer?
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193
The first attribute that comes to mind is humor. Not
everyone cares to write a limerick and the limerick as a
genre seems to be rather stuck on scatological and
sexual subjects. Which is not to say that serious or
refined limericks are never written . . . but who picks
up a book of limericks because they want serious clean
poetry? Kyoka, by contrast, is not so narrowly
pigeonholed in subject matter or treatment. Indeed,
just as there are serious senryu, so it is possible to
write serious kyoka.
If kyoka can be serious and have significant poetic
merit then how does it differ from tanka? This is a
question I will dodge by saying that it is too soon to be
drawing any conclusions about kyoka written in
English. There are no English-language kyoka books or
magazines and precious few kyoka have been
translated into English. As far as I know, there is only
one email list dedicated to kyoka (Kyoka Mad Poems,
<http://groups.google.com/group/kyoka>) and no
web sites. A few sites dedicated to other topics also
provide some information about kyoka, but there is no
‘Kyoka Society of America’, no kyoka.org, or other
resources. The only significant discussion of kyoka