Nothing New under the Sun, A Tanka Sequence

alone
on this rainy night
the muse
is my sounding board
for ideas and gossip

two colored truths
in the predawn sky:
one for the muse
the other for me
and my drunken shadow

clichés open
a prismatic window
on my soul
(another cliché, I know) …
killing time with my muse

NeverEnding Story, November 24, 2014

Death Tanka

in the depth
of a winter night
I peer
into the mirror:
Death with half-closed eyes

VerseWrights, November 2014

Moth Tanka

I raise
my husky voice,
I'm a poet ...
the word useless like a moth
flying around my heart

VerseWrights, November 2014

Twin Kites Tanka

twin kites
soar high in the sky ...
a pair of eyes
looking down
on my childhood dream

VerseWrights, November 2014

Tea Party Haiku

spring tea party
the sound of pastry
snapping

VerseWrights, November 2014

Scarecrow Haiku

threadbare scarecrow
in the snowy field
its shadow touches mine

VerseWrights, November 2014

Winter Mist Haiku

winter mist
fat phobia weighing
on her mind

VerseWrights, November 2014

Winter Twilight Haiku

winter twilight
an old man and his dog
share the shadow

VerseWrights, November 2014

A Christmas Tanka about NeverEnding Story

black coffee
and NeverEnding Story...
Christmas sunlight
spilling in
like a waterfall

PoemHunter, December 25, 2014

Red Butterfly Haiku

red butterfly ...
her name slips off my tongue
in a whisper

VerseWrights, November 2014

Full Moon Party Tanka

full moon party
for the newly single
I feel exposed
like the skin
where my ring used to be

Bright Stars, VII, 2014

Daytime Saving Tanka

turning
the clock ahead one hour
for daylight saving—
in the bedroom mirror
I see a patch of gray hair

Bright Stars, VII, 2014

Sultry Night Tanka

I rip out
each page of our life
this sultry night
the dream soaks my bed
with her moaning

Bright Stars, VII, 2014

Zazen Tanka

windswept pines
against the coming night
I sit zazen
like a stone Buddha
with shifting shadows

Bright Stars, VII, 2014

First Love Tanka

first love
such sweet despair . . .
the wet blanket
of her words
on this winter day

Bright Stars, VII, 2014

Day and Night

my dog and I
in the shadow of pines
morning chill

my shadow and I
under the eaves
moonlight dripping

NeverEnding Story, November 18, 2014

Cancer Center Tanka

early morning
outside the cancer center
a young man
takes another drag
on his last cigarette

All the Shells: Tanka Society of America Members' Anthology 2014

Smallpox Tanka

like smallpox
loneliness left pockmarks
in the face . . .
time and silence
my only medicine

All the Shells: Tanka Society of America Members' Anthology 2014

Migrant Workers Tanka

at twilight
banners for the harvest
tossing like waves . . .
migrant workers that stay
migrant workers that go

All the Shells: Tanka Society of America Members' Anthology 2014

Heat Haiku about Lisbon

Lisbon heat

a trolley shivers

up and down the hill

Alfama heat

old flats congested

with migrants

NeverEnding Story, November 13, 2014

Note: During my June trip to Portugal, the temperature there could reach as high as 40 °c. The Alfama is the oldest district of Lisbon, spreading on the slope between the São Jorge Castle and the Tejo river. It remains one of the most photogenic neighborhoods in all of Europe.

First Date Tanka

our first date
at her New Writing Series
over her shoulder
I whisper a tanka
yet to be published

Atlas Poetica, 19, 2014

Mona Lisa Smile Tanka

love-struck
by her Mona Lisa smile
and eyes
that gaze upon me
yet look beyond

Atlas Poetica, 19, 2014

Dead of Night Tanka

no moon, no stars
in the dead of night
loneliness
smelling of the attic...
another time and place

Atlas Poetica, 19, 2014

Communal Meal Tanka

laundry flapping
in the summer wind
a circle of men
at a communal meal
in the Alfama street

Atlas Poetica, 19, 2014

Note:  The Alfama is the oldest district of Lisbon, now crowded with migrants. It contains many historical attractions, as well as an abundance of Fado bars and restaurants.

Green Light Tanka

green light
blinking at the end
of her dock ...
one bay, two worlds
too far apart, yet so close

Atlas Poetica, 19, 2014

Scythe Tanka

for Ingmar Bergman

single file
on the long way home:
the shadow,
myself and a man
who carries a scythe

Atlas Poetica, 19, 2014

9/11 Tanka

after 9/11
I had to shave off
my long beard ...
the new temp tells me
with a stained-teeth smile

Atlas Poetica, 19, 2014

For My (Lost Not Beat) Generation, A Tanka Prose

During his two-year mandatory military service, my graduate school classmate, who hand-copied On the Road in his freshman year, constantly forgot to say Yes, Sir and No, Sir, chain-smoked on duty, and was found once reading a holey edition of Playboy when he should have been drilling. After completing the service, he came back to his hometown, found a 9-to-5 job, became a company man, got married and had two kids, later moved to a bedroom community of Taipei, the capital city of Taiwan (formerly known as the Republic of China), and fully embraced the emerging IKEA culture, keeping up with the Joneses.

first winter light
on the empty side
of the bed
my friend phones me, rambling
about The Dharma Bums

at twilight
I murmur to myself
I should have ...
echoing and echoing
after he ended the call

Atlas Poetica, 19, 2014

One Side of the Bed Tanka

I cough and roll
from one side of the bed
to the other
under my body
the shards of a past

Atlas Poetica, 19, 2014

Two I's Tanka

time over time
I-then and I-now
face to face
with each other ...
my first Easter Sunday

Atlas Poetica, 19, 2014

A Tanka about the Critic

the critic
jumping from one point
to another ...
I grasp the thought of him
in a polished coffin

Atlas Poetica, 19, 2014

Colgate Smile Tanka

after parting words
she shows me her Colgate smile --
pointing my finger
to the hunter's moon
I give her a Buddha stare

Atlas Poetica, 19, 2014

Drizzle Tanka

freezing drizzle
expected to be mixed in
with the snow...
I feel the urge
to stir my coffee clockwise

Atlas Poetica, 19, 2014

"I can't breathe" Tanka

for Eric Garner

blindfolded Justice
holding her scales and sword
in the square
row upon row of black men
chanting I can't breathe

PoemHunter, December 6, 2014

Note:  For more info., see John Eligon's New York Times' article, titled Police Killings Reveal Chasms Between Races:

The recent high-profile deaths of black people at the hands of police officers have exposed sharp differences about race relations in unexpected and often uncomfortable ways... you can read the full text here

War Veteran Tanka

in the shade
of a weeping willow
a war veteran
takes on shifting shadows
in hand-to-hand combat

Atlas Poetica, 19, 2014

Winter Solstice Haiku

winter solstice...
I recycle my youth
in a dream

Brass Bell, December 2014

The Weight of the L Word, A Tanka Sequence

winter gust
beating at the petals
of time
that swirl around us...
this starless night we meet

caught in her gaze
I plant in my mind
a hope
that will flourish . . .
this budding of spring words

she winks at me
is love about the body-smell
relationship?
I start to unlearn
the language of sex

she whispered
I am in love and love
what vanished...
my thoughts of her floating
in the dark sea of night

Originally accepted for  (now defunct) Lynx, 29:3, October 2014

Marble Fireplace Tanka

marble fireplace
full of burning logs
painted
on my attic wall...
alone with my Muse

Originally accepted for  (now defunct) Lynx, 29:3, October 2014

Murder of Crows Tanka

banging my head
against the wall of loneliness
the silence
like a murder of crows
descends on this winter night

Originally accepted for  (now defunct) Lynx, 29:3, October 2014

Scent Haiku

the scent of her hair
footsteps echo
down the hospice hall

Originally accepted for  (now defunct) Lynx, 29:3, October 2014