a derelict lai
an abandoned sestina
a rusting rubai
the iambic sun sinking
tarted-up tankas roll by
articulated sonnets
pantoums, tricked-out villanelles
a herd of haikai
a herd of haikai
The Highway of Broken Poems
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Tag Archives: tanka
Living on Tanka Time
Living on Tanka Time
up on Dunbar Street
the barber shops are empty
a guy smokes a joint
and laughs hysterically
at the blank screen of his phone.
A Tanka for Donald Trump
A Tanka for Donald Trump
morning has broken
Donald is talking bollocks,
the sun’s going down
Donald is talking bollocks,
sun comes up, yep, you guessed it.
This was originally titled ” A Tanka for Boris Johnson” but I realized that I could substitute any populist leader with a two syllable first name.
Thomas the Tanka Engine (Inane Tanka January #2)
Thomas the Tanka Engine
that little engine
sure could go and go and go
and go and go and….
yes, it’s all fun and games ‘til
you run out of syllables.
Sorry about that…I’m glad January is nearly over!
What a Difference an A makes (Merkel meets Markle)
And hot off the press……
What a Difference an A makes
Angela Merkel
consults with Meghan Markle
they exchange vowels
and Merkel becomes Markel
and Markle becomes Merkle.
This tanka was hidden in my last post, thought I’d bring it out into the air
?
Faubourg Café (tanka)
Faubourg Café (tanka)
there in a glass case
a black sesame cruffin
croissant meets muffin
in a tortured pastry swirl
French calories eh?……the best.
Forest Fire (tanka)
Forest Fire
smoke obscures the dawn
there is no…no early light
oh say, can you see
the root cause, the root causes
and does it, does it give pause.
Another one for Brendan’s ekphrastic challenge over at Earthweal. Taking part in open link weekend over at earthwealhttps://earthweal.com/, since I’m late for the original prompt,
Breakfast (tanka)
Breakfast
sometimes we travel
a long, hard road, to arrive
at the obvious:
the unbearable flatness
of pancakes in the morning.
Trip Home (a tanka for the memory)
Trip Home
a Donnybrook walk
the Dodder’s brackish gargle
that long red brick dusk
ghosts, tall tales and memories
the walking and the wounded.
Taking part in earthweal open link weekend.
Verse Form Freeway
Verse Form Freeway
a derelict lai
an abandoned sestina
a rusting rubai
the iambic sun beats down
tarted-up tankas roll by
articulated sonnets
pantoums, tricked-out villanelles
a herd of haikai
a herd of haikai
Kitsilano Take-out Tanka
Kitsilano Take-out Tanka
a late May evening
a take-out from Akbar’s Own
lamb vindaloo, mild
low muslin- filtered sunlight
couples stroll home from the beach
Sound Heard While Replacing The Basement Toilet (plumbing tanka)
Sound Heard While Replacing The Basement Toilet
a ghostly whoosh
echoes down the open pipe
a toilet flushing
in a neighbor’s house uphill
yes, we are all connected.
I hardly ever do this but here’s a challenge to all you poets out there: write a poem about plumbing. There are no rules, write about anything – an ode to your favourite plunger, a sonnet about a dripping tap, a haiku about flexible hoses!
Link back to this post if you like, so I can read your poems.
Closed For Some Time Now (tanka)
Closed For Some Time Now (tanka)
on Spy Wednesday
passing the mildewed awning
of Dunbar Produce
I sense an apple vacuum
a vegetable absence.
Sun Damage (tanka)
Sun Damage (tanka)
and who would have thought
that elusive Irish sun
could do such damage
but look now, I have more moles
than a le Carré novel
One Swallow
One Swallow
one swallow does not
one tries to swallow one’s pride
one swallow does not
when it comes to (what else?) Spring
one swallow does not do it.
The Light Ekphrastic (tanka)
The Light Ekphrastic
pierless, a king tide,
a log boom loses its grip
erasure, dim wit
a slow walk in the March sun
tripping the light ekphrastic
Taking part in open link over at earthweal.
Tankas for Nothing, Haiku for Free
That Smell from the Fridge
that smell from the fridge
yes, it was the Camembert
noisome, and then some
wet dog, feet sweat, camel’s breath
a washroom door opening.
Two Bros at the Art Gallery
v- necked, buffed, burnished
pumped, pectoral, and puzzled,
aerobatic hair.
Two Tankas Involving Coffee
Americano Misto
the girl in Starbucks
fails to praise my awesome choice
nor does she inquire
’bout the progress of my day
I feel oddly unaffirmed.
The Evangelista
my local Starbucks
has an evangelista
she quotes the bible
while serving cappuccino
the old testament, mostly.
Last Tanka in Paradise (2021)
Last Tanka in Paradise (2021)
up on Dunbar Heights
a plether of snowflakes falls
new highs and new lows
heat domes and arctic outflows
the sound of Goretex wicking
Taking part in Open Link Weekend over at earthweal.
Redwood Tanka
Redwood Tanka
new shoots from old roots
deep in the cedar forest
I’m birthing clichés
surrounded by the slowness
the ancient ticking of time.
Brendan, over at earthweal, asks us to write about “slowness”.
Slim’s Third Dream (tanka)
Slim’s Third Dream
Slim retires again
to do battle with the night
his mother appears
they share complicated jokes
in his sleep, he laughs out loud.
Over at earthweal, the challenge is:
For this challenge, explore the art and acts of entanglement in a poem. How does one life entangle another? How do the dead remain entangled with the living? Become the thing you see. Reflect on how that seeing changes the world (at least, your view of it). Then (or separately) ask yourself what existence would mean without that entanglement: how much less light and air and beauty. Flip the switch both ways to see how it works. Entangle yourself in the world. Let your witness be our testament.
A lot of questions, I think I may have addressed one!
Down by Jericho Beach (Edit)
Down by Jericho Beach
the trees look guilty
the ocean is ill at ease
no one’s fault, but still…..
the courts are empty
no tennis ball pock pock pock
Canada geese honk
eagles isolate
my face itches like crazy
demands to be scratched
and those ducks, they don’t know squat
about social distancing.
Photo “Social Distancing”
The challenge from Grace over at dverse is to write a poem using personification and/or imagery:
Personification
A figure of speech in which the poet describes an abstraction, a thing, or a nonhuman form as if it were a person.
When I read the prompt I thought of this poem from back in April 2020, I made a small edit.
Boris Johnson at the G7 (The Boris Trilogy Part 2)
A trip down memory lane…
Boris Johnson at the G7
Can’t believe I’m here.
Oh! The joy of dissembling!
Japes, pranks and capers!
What is Macron looking at?
I think Donald might like me.
There’s Melania!
Those cheekbones, the north face of
the bloody Eiger,
scale her promontories, what!
No time for rumpy pumpy,
lots to do! Trudeau
is smirking, colonial
prat! I think Merkel
wants to spank me, go nanny!
Concentrate! Now where was I?
A Tanka for Boris Johnson (The Boris Trilogy Part 1)
A Tanka for Boris Johnson
morning has broken
Boris is talking bollocks,
the sun’s going down
Boris is talking bollocks,
sun comes up, yep, you guessed it.
Bike Ride by the Fraser River
Bike Ride by the Fraser River
tug boats and log booms
the plaid twock of a golf ball
a band playing soul
the sweet, sweet smell of Purell
backyard wedding, guests on Zoom.
The challenge over at earthweal is
“STRANGE WORLD is the theme of this challenge. Take the opportunity to assess what’s become so strange in your world……”
Stopdraggingthepanda 