Welcome to the Tanka Tuesday Poetry Recap featuring the work of poets from around the globe. If you would like to participate in this challenge, you can learn the rules in the menu item called Colleen’s Weekly Tanka Tuesday Guidelines.
PLEASE NOTE: Don’t forget to count your syllables. Use this site: howmanysyllables.com. Click on the workshop tab. Then, copy and paste your poem into the box, and click “count syllables” at the bottom.
Each week, I like to highlight a poet who I call the Poet of the Week, who has shared an exceptional message, or shown impassioned creativity through words or form. Poetry is all about perception, so don’t be shocked if you don’t feel the same way about a poem that I do.
The Poet of the Week will be published in the 2019 Poet of the Week Anthology, which everyone will be able to grab as a PDF in January 2020.
I would frame this piece (along with poem) because it captures the essence of the full moon, and humanity has been drawn to the mysteries of moon magic since the beginning of time.
In fact, Kerfe’s last two lines could be talking about the euphoria felt from falling in love which contrasts nicely with moon mania.
Kerfe creates her own artwork (so does Ethan Dale Eagar), and each week I look forward to her creations. I’m not creative with paint but I applaud all of you poets who add these artistic touches to your work.
Not sure how to write a Shadorma poem? Brush up HERE.
“The Looming Unknown”
My dreams fall
over the edge of
of moons vast
with perplexity and play–
rapt with lunacy
Haiku for troubled water, #Haiku
light plays on water
silvering pond’s troubled depths
beneath the pike waits
Trouble & Game, #Senryu trio
He came, heroic
To solve all my dilemmas
With a plan in mind
He left, defeated
I'm not an easy woman
Others can confirm
My distress is fake
For I am full of mischeif
Just another hoax
“Hollow Void,” #Haibun #Haiga
Thick pools of viscous swirled and bounced in front of my vision as I struggled, trying to adjust to the all-encompassing void. I searched in vain to discern shapes the pitch, hungry to pick out anything familiar. I couldn’t see a thing.
The house’s darkness was unyielding, holding tightly to any vestige of light. Deprivation had a lethargic effect on me, bonding with some primitive fear that seemed all too happy to glue my legs in place. This instinct continued its torment by spreading cold goosebumps that crawled over my skin like wildfire. The unpleasant sensation was causing the hairs on my arms to stand at attention.
I stretched out my hands slowly and they soon discovered the hollow door frame I was standing in. The wood’s tactile reassurance offered very little in the way of comfort as it was but an insignificant island in an overwhelming sea of abstract. And yet the dim glitter of hope held me captive. As often an anchor moors against an anxious tide, I too stood hostage, tethered to this hollow refuge.
The sleeping house was still new to me, having only moved in the week before. Most of my belongings were still locked safely in cardboard and smothered in bubble-wrap, strewn about the strange rooms with curious abandon. There was simply no sense of where things were in the dark.
Gradually, ever so slowly quietly, I felt myself calming down, gaining control. Relieved that the tension was finally over, I took a steadying breath, chasing out the last knots of terror from my stomach. I was going to be okay.
As soon as I released my noisy exhale, it echoed back to me from beyond the black. As if waiting for this very moment a savage snarl broke out from down the hallway. Something had heard me. Something alive was with me in this darkness, and now it knew exactly where I was.
The Dilemma, #Senryu
my heart is willing
as it drums a feisty beat
but woe fills my mind
Tina Stewart Brakebill
A Man-eater’s Confession, #TankaProse #Haibun #Tanka
They thought they could cut down my home. Burn my cover. Steal my
quarry. Or perhaps they never thought at all, and just took what wasn’t
theirs without considering the cost.
Now, they are my prey.
Still a danger, to be sure. But what choice did they give me? Was I to lie
down and die? Starve as they hauled away good meat? Cower before
their dogs and their guns?
No. I am made to hunt. That is what I do. That is what I will continue to
do. Until the day they put me down.
What is it they like to say? “Catch a tiger by the tail?”
the rustle of underbrush
by the water
the aftermath of a kill
we all brought upon ourselves
The Chase - #Haibun #Haiku
The water of the creek smells clean, like something that has trickled
out of the water table and onto leaf litter. I lap it with my tongue,
tasting with care, then drink to slake my thirst. I hear thunder rattle
through the mountain pass, and lift my head to sniff the air.
Scent of saltpeter –
Humans chasing their quarry.
Danger stalks these woods.
Butter My Butt and Call Me a Biscuit, #Etheree
Claim to shame
Was when she found
Her skirt tucked into
Her pantyhose one day
The dilemma was diffused
By her spirited twerking
As she made her way through the crowd
Who found themselves trapped into watching
As her buns jiggled through the restaurant
©2019 Annette Rochelle Aben
Missing the Point - #Double #Etheree
Play or prey
A simple choice
By corporate rules
Predator or victim
Conflict and separation
With the single stroke of a pen
In pursuit of imagined success
The route to riches is not paved with gold
Fool's golden glow of dangled carrots
Luring donkeys ever onwards
Towards a goal out of reach
Beauty dies unnoticed
Inner light dimmed
Life's small joys
Game & Trouble, #Tanka
Around the table
the Olympians gathered,
Zeus took up the dice,
to them ‘‘t’was just a pastime,
for Troy it could mean peril.
"You Don't Know - Thoughts on an Unseen Illness," #Reverse #Etheree
Why do people assume they understand?
It is hard for me to comprehend
To struggle, in an unkind life
Yet, does not make me weaker
Nor will I claim defeat
I look solely for
Letting go of the sacred innocence
the soothing music of the forest
in the dark February sky
bathed in flower essence and
dressed in a silver dress
distressed wolves howling
full snow moon blooms
she is bold
Night Of Revelry:
Dance, Music, Booze And Frolic;
Morn Brings Heartache Woes…
the dark netizen
Disposed, #Shadorma #Senryu
They’re kind words,
true; difficult times
this news not hers, only mine
inclined ‘til the bow.
I won’t be OK;
incurable, I’ll dazzle
like a wave, breaking.
Antonia Sara Zenkevitch
But, Still #Double #Etheree
and we dream
and cycles spinning
a planet round a star,
our bodies full of stardust,
so, we reach up bravely, and search
for answers, the hard problem of who,
why, and what we are--but still, flowers bloom
rise with cues of light and hope, a promise
of what was still is, even if we
are not. They will vanish also,
like dinosaurs and dodos,
romps through the ages,
blinks and heartaches--
but still, there’s
Merril D. Smith
Game & Trouble, #Etheree
We don't worry
our river is home
My brother rows our boat
mothers picnic basket full
wild iris grow by the river
swallows glide on thermals high above
summer over our river keeps rolling...
The Joys of Spring, #Etheree
in the field
eager to play
with their flock siblings
as their mothers look on
munching on newly grown grass
content that their feisty newborns
full of their milk and the joys of spring
will not be back to hassle them for hours.
A Glimmer, A Shine, #Double #Etheree
blue skies fade
give way to woe
as soft raindrops fall
upon my face, eager
to wash away my dismay
I say a prayer, ask for peace
to rid my soul of despair and grief
and through stormy clouds a glimmer, a shine
a beam of hope, peeking through dreary skies
the spirited sun, wielding the light
banishing away the drab blues
and in their place, saving grace
tiny seeds pushing through
earth, giving birth
to new growth
Linda Lee Lyberg
"Dry Cabin Blues" #Senryu
interrupted. Snow stacked, path
vanished. Door won’t budge.
The die cast on the chequered board,
Rolled by Tides in the play of life,
To give what is preordained,
Braving the Fates tumult,
You ride the tempest,
To drown again,
Nature's Story, #Haibun #Tanka
At Thoreau’s insistence, I am out on a perambulation this morning.
Of course, he called for me this morning from hundreds of years ago
when perambulate was a common term. Today, we are more familiar
with the terms walk and walking.
There’s an intimacy in reading his words penned so long ago. Most
notable of late is how much time he spent strolling. But then again, cars
weren’t invented yet. Even so, would he have rebelled the new
automotive technology? He doesn’t care much for the new telegraph
wire being installed, so I suppose yes, he’d take issue.
However, hiking as a means of transportation isn’t his appeal this
morning. It is his encouragement to observe. Walking demands a
reckoning of the ubiquitous disquiet of modern age. It allows time to
think, to ponder, to see, to endeavor in nature. Most of all, it allows a
daring curiosity to seep into my thoughts. Nothing is only what is seen…
there is evermore substance to be discovered.
pillage of moments
yet, all around nature calls
come hear my story
Addiction held him
never was there winnings
this was no child's play
decent into blackness.
Willow Dot 21
Game & Trouble, #Senryu
With our secret Plan,
an unbounded excitement,
parting Bothers us.
Are you looking for more writing/poetry/photography challenges?
H.R.R. Gorman has created a comprehensive list on his blog. Click HERE to learn more. ❤