Tanka is a Japanese form of minimalist poem. In English, the poem tends to "spill down" over five lines. Some poets count syllables (5-7-5-7-7). Many English language poets do not - I like to follow the short/long/short/long/long sentence structure. I find it appealing visually, but also rhythmically. Whereas haiku tend to be observational, tanka tend to tell a story, and are more narrative in nature. They often have an emotional aspect or impact. The best tanka "turns" on itself. The first three lines set up a situation, and the last two lines reveal an unexpected insight, emotion, or response. The following tanka have been previously published. ~ Marianne
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your hand
settling easily
into mine
the interlocking fingers
of river and shore
Editor's Choice, cattails, May 2016
travelling
by myself in search
of solitude--
the loneliness
of hotel rooms
Moonbathing, a journal of women's tanka, Issue 13
the passenger
never quite catching up
with the train whistle
this lifelong sensation
I have yet to arrive
Ribbons, Spring/Summer issue 2016
testifying
at the murder trial
of my brother
deeper into the woods and down
the rabbit hole
Ripples in the Sand, Tanka Society of America 2016
not enough
words for the subtleties
of snow--
all of my shortcomings
over a lifetime
cattails, Sept 2015
sipping
the fallout
from Fukushima
green tea and the flutter
of butterfly wings
25 Tanka on The Atomic Era, Atlas Poetica
eating
the apple's bruise
wishing
i could take away
your pain as easily
Moonbathing, a journal of women's tanka, Issue 12
there are stories
a mother shouldn't tell
her daughter--
that cloudless summer day
when you told me
All The Shells, Tanka Society of America, 2014; also One Man's Maple Moon, Vol 11, 2016
talking
to myself I answer
myself--
in the echo of the loon's call
this loneliness
Moonbathing, Issue 14, Summer 2016
that little girl
afraid of father's
disapproval--
never learning how
to state what i want
Gusts No. 23 Contemporary Tanka
seeking
a meaningful experience
in later life…
my To-Do list
now a paper airplane
Ribbons, Spring/Summer 2017
my lifeline
stopping abruply
mid palm--
still breathing but maybe
not fully alive
Gusts No. 23 Contemporary Tanka
brother, there you were
in my dream on the far shore
of a vast lake--
you, freshly dead
and all this water between us
Gusts No. 19 Contemporary Tanka
how the wind
flips up the edges
of the lily pads--
that photo of Marilyn
in the streets of NY
Moonbathing, a journal of women's tanka, Issue 11
i stop short
of ordering the needle
for my sick cat…
afterwards, i get drunk
and contemplate endings
Gusts No. 19 Contemporary Tanka
60th birthday
and buying
a new suitcase
where exactly do I think
I'm headed
Moonbathing, a journal of women's tanka, Issue 15
off-guard
at the swelling
of my heart
the prodigal daughter
returns home
cattails, Sept 2016
the jerk
of the up-pull
on the yoyo
again and again you change
your mind
Ripples in the Sand, Tanka Society of America 2016
I don’t need a church
to show me God
she sores with the terns
and breathes
through the gills of the trout
Gusts, October 2017, Number 26
across the span
of the St Lawrence river
a tree-fringed horizon—
further downstream, the death
of ten right whales
Gusts, October 2017, Number 26
moving
from a small town
to the city
learning to pass strangers
without saying hello
Neon Graffiti, 2016
the universe
inside the emptiness
of a sea jelly
am I that shrimpy animal
trapped inside?
Moonbathing, Spring 2017
face radiant
head tilted listening
to the voices
mama already halfway
between worlds
Gusts, Number 25
beginner's
tai chi class
lakeside
i flow in the opposite direction
from everyone else
Neon Graffiti, 2016
wearing women's clothes
before
it is fashionable
the old man on the street
who dresses like my grandmother
Neon Graffiti, 2016
run off the sidewalk
by the guy
in the electric wheelchair
overcoming political correctness
and cursing at him anyway
Neon Graffiti, 2016
the deaf couple
in the parking lot arguing
with their hands
the sound of heat lighting
on a humid summer's night
Neon Graffiti, 2016
the panhandler says
I'm the prettiest woman
he's ever seen
I dig into my pocket
and pay for the lie
Neon Graffiti, 2016
secondhand
post-traumatic stress
disorder
every day a new mass killing
in my living room
Neon Graffiti, 2016
all these years
inhaling the oxygen
exhaled by trees
only now learning to distinguish
spruce, fir and pine
Bright Stars 5 An Organic Tanka Anthology
seaweed
and an orb snail
on the skeg--
the lake comes home
with me
Bright Stars 5 An Organic Tanka Anthology
waking up
to a full moon slung low
over a prairie horizon
for the first time seeing life
through my father's eyes
Skylark A Tanka Journal, 2:1 Summer 2014
standing in the hallway
outside my mother's room
nurses at her bedside--
I know she is too busy dying
for more goodbyes
Skylark A Tanka Journal, 2:1 Summer 2014
the boy
stalking his sister
with a toy gun--
through an open window
the barrel of a gun
Ribbons, Fall 2016
spinning
a silk pad, the larva
hangs itself--
one needs to die to find out
if there is anything else
Skylark A Tanka Journal, 2:2 Winter 2014
wearing
my wedding band
on my pinkie
so many changes over the life
of a marriage
Spent Blossoms, TSA Members' Anthology 2015
worrying
about what I look like
in a bathing suit
violets and other shades
of summertime blues
Tanka Cafe, Ribbons, Spring/Summer 2016
thousands of years
for the ancient yew tree
to sprout berries--
telling myself it's not too late
to discover who I am
cattails, Jan 2106
the trumpeter swan
chases the Canada goose
across the lake--
we shoot guns and drop bombs
to establish territory
The Tanka Cafe, Ribbons, Fall 2014: Volume 10, Number 3
two grey herons
hunched on the willow tree
along a river--
how the north wind lifts
the tips of your white hair
cattails, September 2014
the swell
of birdsong along
the trail
that night i dreant you
had risen from the dead
Gusts No. 23 Contemporary Tanka
under the tree
hand-carved into a cross
the passing marked--
some dogs are mourned
more deeply than people
cattails, May 2014
temari
from the silk scraps
of the kimono--
my mother-in-law stitches
family history into her quilt
cattails, May 2014; also Neverending Story
first howl
the baby clenches
a protest
poem
in her fist
Gusts, Number 25 (double check publication citation)
do you feel it yet--
the subtle shift in season
winter at the edge
of autumn: old age at the edge
of your waning years
The Bamboo Hut Volume 1 Issue 2 A Journal of English Language Tanka
the geese overhead
call me to my future--
hoping
for time enough
to grow old with you
Ribbons, Winter 2015: Volume 11, Number 1
wearing
my wedding band
on my pinkie
so many changes over the life
of a marriage
Spent Blossoms, Tanka Society of America, 2015
little one:
each incarnation of you
is held in my body
i carry you with me
in every cell
The Bamboo Hut Volume 1 Issue 2 A Journal of English Language Tanka
my family
doesn't read
my tanka--
i give myself freely
to strangers
Bright Stars 5 An Organic Tanka Anthology
the cat lies in the sliver
between my hip and the edge
of the couch--
seems we both crave
living presence
All The Shells, Tanka Society of America, 2014
all those people
who see Christ in the shading
of burnt toast--
looking for love in all
the wrong places
The Tanka Cafe, Ribbons, Winter 2015: Volume 11, Number 1
finding out
the mountain ash
isn't truly an ash--
you walk away
while my brother lay dying
Ribbons, Fall 2015
even behind
the closed curtain
the shamrock
opens
to the morning
The Bamboo Hut Volume 1 Issue 2 A Journal of English Language Tanka
yanking out
baby maple trees
in the garden
what are the limits
to my ruthlessness?
moon bathing, Issue 18
fruit flies
circling the peach
in the kitchen
soft bruises ripening
on her skin
Bright Stars 7 An Organic Tanka Anthology
she asks
why my hands
are so old
how to tell a child
about end games
Bright Stars 7 An Organic Tanka Anthology
baby boy looks up
from his iPad and notices
the clouds
maybe there is hope
for the planet after all
Bright Stars 7 An Organic Tanka Anthology
one lone cabin
perched on the cliff
above the river
i envy the occupants
their solitude
Gusts no. 22
spending
quality time together
kayaking
he, on his side of the lake
and me, on mine
Gusts no. 22
Canada Sucks
graffiti scribbled across
a CN freight car
in the background, the towering uprise
of Rocky Mountain glaciers
Gusts no. 22
in the grass
a toy soldier
lies broken
war destroys the bodies
of the littlest ones too
Gusts no. 24
wanting
to dream my brother
for a long time--
the emptiness of a street
so full of ghosts
Gusts no. 24
sharing
a backyard fence
ith a funeral home
from the other side
the skirl of bagpipes
Bright Stars 7 An Organic Tanka Anthology
drawing
down the moon
the goddess
and the sea coral
await night fullness
Bright Stars 7 An Organic Tanka Anthology
recycling
my little girl's
first tutu
time to recognize
she is a woman now
Bright Stars 7 An Organic Tanka Anthology
the moth flutters
between the window
and the screen--
in your last days did you search
for an answer
Bright Stars 7 An Organic Tanka Anthology
i write
poems in safety
of home--
i bow to those writers
who risk their life for words
Bright Stars 7 An Organic Tanka Anthology
in the rearview mirror:
strobe lights flash and sirens
wail of mortality
cars pull over, then drive on
as if nothing has happened
The Bamboo Hut Volume 1 Number 1 A Journal of English Language Tanka
the toad's fat body
stuffed into the mouth
of the snake--
nature is not as benign
as i want it to be
Gusts No. 19 Contemporary Tanka
finding out the maples
in my yard are not native
to Canada--
like my ancestors
they are immigrants
Gusts No. 20 Contemporary Tanka
the morning sun
illuminates a strand
of spider silk--
i wake with the answers
to yesterday's problems
Gusts No. 20 Contemporary Tanka
in the Philipines
ten thousand dying
in the cyclone
on this side of the planet
a leaf is buffeted
Bright Stars 4 An Organic Tanka Anthology
i trim the bonsai
hold the cuttings
in my palm
scatter them to the garden
as if a loved one
Bright Stars 5 An Organic Tanka Anthology
mama hunched over
the old Singer machine
furiously sewing
our new Easter dresses
a slip of the needle crucifies her
Bright Stars 3 An Organic Tanka Anthology
Starbucks newbie
how sophisticated i feel
ordering grande
instead of medium
still, middle of the road
Bright Stars 4 An Organic Tanka Anthology
on my knees
scrubbing dirt and dust-bunnies
from the corners
haven't felt this close
to heaven in a long time
Bright Stars 4 An Organic Tanka Anthology
trying hard
to force the climbing
rosebush
to bloom on my side
of the fence
Bright Stars 4 An Organic Tanka Anthology
pulling up
the unwanted saplings--
how the chestnut
curls around the root
a fetus to the umbilical cord
Bright Stars 4 An Organic Tanka Anthology
in memoriam
words rooted in memory
i remember you
in that space between heartbeats
the echo of blood rushing
The Bamboo Hut Volume 1 Number 1 A Journal of English Language Tanka
accepting
my body shape
as it is—
prolonging the sweet taste
of the chocolate torte
Gusts, October 2017, Number 26