Chen-ou Liu's Translation Project: First English-Chinese Haiku and Tanka Blog

Sunday, March 31, 2013

War Cemetery Haiku

war cemetery...
a long shadow
limping behind him


Paper Wasp 19:1, Autumn 2013

Saturday, March 30, 2013

Pit Bull Haiku

Valentine's Eve
her pit bull eyes me
with curiosity


Paper Wasp 19:1, Autumn 2013

Friday, March 29, 2013

Birdsong Tanka

one bird song
after another ...
alone
in the waters of spring
thoughts of her flow away


Croatian translation

pjesm a jedne ptice
nakon druge
sam
u proljetnim vodama
misli o njoj oticu


First Prize, Spring Tanka 2013

Starry Sky Haiku

starry patches
of sky...
my dog and I


Paper Wasp 19:1, Autumn 2013

Thursday, March 28, 2013

First Crescent Moon Haiku

first crescent moon
my wife's knife-sharp words
make a poet of me

Revision, Paper Wasp 19:1, Autumn 2013

Wednesday, March 27, 2013

Hunter's Moon Haiku

I walk
into the silence
of a hunter's moon


Paper Wasp 19:1, Autumn 2013

Tuesday, March 26, 2013

A Day in Her Shadowy Life: A Tanka Prose

for the New Pope

Earlier this morning, hundreds of thousands flooded St. Peter's Square, forming crescent-moon crowds around giant video screens. Basking in an emotional send-off at his final general audience, Pope Benedict XVI stressed, "Loving the church also means having the courage to take difficult and anguished choices, ..."

With an emotionless look on her face, Mary stared at the TV screen in her rented attic room. As a white cloud of doves ascends into the sky and circles the square, cries of “Viva il Papa!” burst from the crowds.

did you weep
when I was abused?

she asks
with trembling hands...
wooden Jesus on the wall



Notes:

1 “Viva il Papa!” means "Long live the Pope!"

2 According to the New Testament, Jesus cried three times, and "Jesus wept" is the shortest verse. It is found in John's narrative of the death of Lazarus, a follower of Jesus.

Monday, March 25, 2013

Passion: A Haibun

for Billy Collins 

half a haiku
the morning
already ancient

I wake from my nap screaming. In the dream, my half-naked poem is nailed to the cross, surrounded by a cheering crowd. A critic begins beating it with a hose, trying to torture a confession of its meaning from it. My poem cries out in anguish.

midnight moon
the only thing moving
my right hand

A Hundred Gourds 2:2 March 2013

Thursday, March 21, 2013

A Tanka about Talking

her voice
rises high 
above all others ...
finding a crack
in the Great Wall
of men's talk

Revision, A Hundred Gourds 2:2 March 2013

Wednesday, March 20, 2013

A Tanka about Venice

slowly but surely
Venice is sinking...
the gondola
I build for you in a dream
will sail through endless skies


A Hundred Gourds, 2:2, March 2013

Tuesday, March 19, 2013

The Dagger in My Mind: A Haibun

Dear Mr. Reeder:

What was there before your birth? What will be there after your death? And who is it, at this very moment,  that is reading? Living in the world of one color, can I have December roses to perfume my attic room?

sprawling darkness not knowing the sound of snow

Sunday, March 17, 2013

A Tanka about the "3/5 Compromise"

Emory President praised
the three-fifths compromise...
on the sun-tanned backs
of a row of black students
This is 5/5 outrageous


Note: "The 1787 three-fifths compromise allowed each slave to be counted as three-fifths of a person in determining how much Congressional power the Southern states would have."

A Tanka about Clichés

clichés in my poem
audible but muted...
a new round
of midnight peace talks
between the Muse and me


NeverEnding Story, March 6, 2013

Thursday, March 14, 2013

Lotus Haiku

budding lotus --
when did I become
who I am


Frogpond, 36:1, Winter 2013

Wednesday, March 13, 2013

Starless Night Tanka

our last talk
full of might haves, could haves,
should haves...
snowflakes drifting
on this starless night


VerseWrights, Feb. 24, 2013

Pasty Dough Tanka

like pastry dough
the fingers of my mind
work through
hometown memories --
lingering scent of mooncakes


VerseWrights, Feb. 24, 2013

Tuesday, March 12, 2013

Monday, March 11, 2013

Sunday, March 10, 2013

The Question Unanswered: A Haibun

slanted sunlight
in the Meditation Hall
a drift of dust

"Every question you answer," I say timidly, "leads to another question." The air conditioner continues its rhythmic humming.

"And do you have another question?" the master asks. For the first time, I notice that there is a small twist to his mouth.

Haibun Today, 7:1, March 2013

Thursday, March 7, 2013

A Haiku about Yellow Brick Road

yellow brick road
a faint echo
of horses' hooves


Title Poem, 2013 Haiku Canada Members' Anthology.

Friday, March 1, 2013

A Haiku about Her Breath

Easter sunlight
streaming through the window
her breath on my neck


PoemHunter Feb. 19 2013

The Cruelest Month: A Tanka Prose

occupied
with the blank space
when words fail...
on my attic window
April rain pattering
 
It was a writing class held at a Toronto branch library. The teacher discussed the four key elements of a story: setting, conflict, climax, and resolution.  Half jokingly, he said out loud,"That’s almost an acronym: sucker." He drew our attention to all sorts of sharp acronyms derived from his words of wisdom, and ended the class with a warning: be aware of clichés.

A loud voice from the back of the room, "the writer is a cliché-sucker who spills out a string of little gems." Silence descended over the room as if bats had just flown out of a cave in a big, snaking cloud. And the rain started to pour...

NeverEnding Story, Feb. 23, 2013