Tanka and Linked Tanka

Sedoka & Tanka Selections

Debi Bender, Editor

Sedoka

Softly, the clouds slip

away from an azure sky

above Saint Mark's Church graveyard

an angel loiters

beneath a plum tree in bloom

petals fall on wings of stone.

In the summer heat --

only a sheer slip between

her nakedness and my touch;

green silk leaves flutter

as she turns to come to me,

they gently caress her curves.

Tanka

this morning

after the first autumn rains

a widower

slowly opens his windows

to the wet scent of leaves

extending

long white thorns

the cactus

under a fallen branch

guards against my touch

heavy traffic

on the city's freeways

tailgating

this endless flow of thoughts

that never gives me rest

a rainy day

I scribble many poems

new ideas

fill the wastebasket

fly across the room

more tired

than ever before

I contemplate

the rest of my life

-- with no energy

a bite of chill wind

and the lingering summer

together at last

no finer bittersweetness

than an end to september

at rest from its flight

the swallowtail's wings touch

together briefly

just as this space between us

never before existed

sultry evening

watching steamy movies

she snuggles to him

their marital row

all but forgotten

picturesque oak

the poise of the bag man

sitting on the boulder --

my calm demeanor

also a lie

the suave fellow

getting his hair permed --

does he not know

about the coffee stains

on his crisp white trousers?

the voice on the machine

so like your voice --

not otherworldly

as I would expect

from a man long buried

The morning sun

Glows on Queen Anne's Lace

Bleaching its paleness --

My heart learns little by little

To let go of darkness.

So sweet,

The taste of blackberries

In this dream;

No matter how light the touch

A stain remains on the soul.

A packet of seeds

strewn after the first rainfall

on an empty field.

I return with rake and hoe

to cultivate my garden.

my humble abode

wrought and wired

this basket

from precious hands long gone

grandad's face etched in memory

evening

from the windchimes no sound

trees still

pillow fight ended

exhausted children sleep

no stars

lights from houses

illuminate

the mountains

a poem penned

the child's room-

paper lanterns

crushed

underneath

a baseball glove

the first night

he got drunk

and wrote a beautiful poem-

now, bottles on the floor

he writes nothing

studying the recipes

my nostrils fill

with the scents

of duck soup

and vegetable broth

trophy room-

watching myself

cross the path

of a deer's

marble eyes

Symbiotic - Linked Tanka and Modern Waka Selections

Debi Bender, Editor

Tanka

Tanka series: children

no wood for the fire

just junk mail and old papers

outside, the wind blows

there's nothing good on tv

but still, my daughter dances

"momma-look at me!"

the wooden floor now a stage

my daughter laughs, leaps

her black hair in dissaray

the crescent moons of her eyes

hands over their ears

the girls hide beneath covers

frightened of thunder

"just listen", their mothers say

raindrops on the giant palm

Modern Waka

Rising towards fullness

In summer twilight's heat --

This moon;

Will it shine as brightly

On my gray hair as the fawn's spots?

........................................Donna

The half moon,

half-hidden among

silver clouds--

these gray hairs, also,

portending the night.

........................................kit

Only a full moon

Reveals the luna moth

And its shadow;

Does its beauty exist too

In the blinding darkness?

........................................Donna

A wood fire

burning through the night --

the full moon

captures my dreams

as the flame does the moth.

........................................Richard

Thin smoke

Wafts towards the morning sun --

These dreams

Float on the dragonfly's wings...

Up, down, back, forth in the wind.

........................................Donna

Gathering dusk;

a robin flits from the trellis

in the garden--

an afterglow of feathers

the only remains of day.

........................................Maria

All that's left

of those long ago twilights --

the memory

of fireflies appearing

in the deeper dusk of trees.

........................................Suzanne

Evening haze --

only the mewl of a cat,

in heat

of midsummer dusk

the crescent moon rises.

........................................Richard

Beyond the haze,

The Western twilight

Deepening its hue;

The fierceness of summer storms

Prepares me for autumn's chill.

........................................Donna

A crack of lightning

shattering the evening calm--

the pattering of rain

which follows the thunder

brings a chill to the air.

........................................Richard

No breeze this dark night,

only the blazing of stars--

Such silence

across this moonless sky

draws me into dreamless sleep.

........................................paul

Heartbeats...

counting the moments

this quiet night--

the sky is as empty

as this longing heart.

........................................Richard

The cicada,

Before its crescendo,

Winding up--

I count my prayers

To shed this loneliness.

........................................Donna

Evening cool:

a lone cricket chirrs

so slowly--

we rub our legs together

in silent harmony.

........................................Richard

Behind the oak tree

a yellow moon fills the sky

with whispers tonight--

in this space of glowing leaves

I shall hold you ever close.

........................................Maria

Participants:

Christopher Baskind (kit), Florida, USA

Paul Cooper, New York, USA

Donna Ferrell, Ohio, USA

Suzanne Finnegan, USA

Richard St. Clair, Massachusetts, USA

Maria Steyn, Johannesburg, RSA