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

Thursday, July 30, 2015

Willpower Tanka

a senate claims
women can block rape sperm
with willpower!
throughout the night, I hear
walnuts hitting the ground


Blueline and Red Thread, 2015
forthcoming in "Sex and Gender," Atlas Poetica, 2015

Wednesday, July 29, 2015

Canada Day, A Tanka Sequence

the tenth year
since I moved to Canada ...
my thought trails
a drifting maple leaf
that catches the sunlight

on the screen
I AM superimposed
over a maple leaf ...
rainbow flowers
blooming in the night sky

NeverEnding Story, July 12, 2015

Tuesday, July 28, 2015

Immigration Tanka

immigration
strips my name, Chen-ou Liu,
of its meaning,
reduces it to a sound
strange to Canadian ears

Hedgerow, 38, July 17 2015

ESL Tanka

reading Sisyphus ...
from college teacher
to ESL student
my tumble down
life's slippery slope

Hedgerow, 38, July 17 2015

Note: ESL stands for English as a Second Language

Monday, July 27, 2015

River of Fire Tanka

a river of fire
swept along the street;
some time later,
drops of black rain fell ...
I see the hell in his eyes

Hedgerow, 35, June 26

Friday, July 24, 2015

World of One Color Tanka

side by side walking
in the world of one color
I see her
hunting for words to break
this snowy silence

Wah, April 2015

Thursday, July 23, 2015

French-Kiss Tanka

under the tree
two teenagers french-kiss ...
idle on the porch
I faint with longing
to enter her backdoor

Wah, April 2015

Wednesday, July 22, 2015

Nursing Home Tanka

a waning moon
at the nursing home
she shows me
the red shoe box stuffed
with cards from her son

Wah, April 2015

Tuesday, July 21, 2015

Prairie Tanka

her blue eyes
with a hint of green ...
between the sky
and the tall-grass prairie
I stand alone

Wah, April 2015

Monday, July 20, 2015

Music Tanka

the upbeat
Happy New Year music
bounces off the tiles
one face looks in the window
while the other looks out

Wah, April 2015

White Neighbors Tanka

white neighbors
who shout no more immigrants
and I now live
in a world of one color:
snow falling on snow

Blueline and Red Thread, 2015

Sunday, July 19, 2015

Our Unfinished Story, A Haiku Sequence

winter mist
she shares her tale
of first love

red wine
from my mouth to hers …
blooming iris

summer moonlight
on her breast
fingering my name

dry leaves rattling ...
the awkward silence
between me and her

NeverEnding Story, July 1, 2015

Saturday, July 18, 2015

The Tempest in My Mind, A Tanka Sequence

loneliness
comes to sit beside my bed ...
the third night
filled with the monotone
of winter rain

at 3 a.m.
many-mouthed loneliness
self-talks out loud --
speechless, face-to-face
with my drunken shadow


NeverEnding Story, June 27, 2015

Friday, July 17, 2015

Beagle Haiku

my Beagle sleeps
on her side of the bed ...
blossoms falling

Hedgerow, 37, July 10 2015

War and Peace Tanka

winter sunlight
reaches the frayed cover
of War and Peace ...
the white neighbor erects
a fence between our houses

Ribbons, 11:2, Spring/Summer 2015

Thursday, July 16, 2015

Tree Root Tanka

a tree root
lifts the edge of a sidewalk
near my house . . .
no more immigrants
chanted behind my back

Ribbons, 11:2, Spring/Summer 2015

Wednesday, July 15, 2015

Killing the Buddha Haiku

written in response to  Linji Yixuan's koan:  If you meet the Buddha, kill him!

killing the Buddha
in a midsummer dream --
a rash on my hand


NeverEnding Story, June 17, 2015

Tuesday, July 14, 2015

The Gaze, A Tanka Prose

In the black-and-white photo, the 16-year-old girl stands in the shade of an old apple tree; her arms folded casually while leaning against its trunk. Black hair in twin braids trail over her shoulders; her head turned slightly toward my house. Her lips parted and playful.

the edges
of her dear john letter
blackening...
I like the way you look
at me, she once said

Contemporary Haibun Online, 11:2, July 2015

Saturday, July 11, 2015

A Part, Yet Apart, A Tanka Prose

"'The letter 'I' is pronounced with a large flap of the tongue. In contrast, the best way to pronounce 'r' is to move your tongue as little as possible when making the sound," my eager ESL tutor tells me from across the table. After several attempts at "alive and arrive," "flee and free." and "blight and bright," I recognize a helpless look on her face. She is twenty years younger than I with dyed blonde hair. Then, in a low voice, she says, "Sometimes,  I'm jealous of you. You speak and act like you know who you are. Hovering between two worlds, I feel pressured to be loyal to the old one while living in the new, approved of on either side of my hyphenated identity: Chinese-Canadian."

she murmurs,
I'm homesick at home ...
I respond
in halting English
the past is my home

A Hundred Gourds, 4:3, June 2015

Friday, July 10, 2015

Thrift Store Haiku

a crack
across the harvest moon
thrift store window

Modern Haiku, 46:2, 2015

Thursday, July 9, 2015

Wednesday, July 8, 2015

Tuesday, July 7, 2015

Nose Print Tanka

she speaks
of winter sunlight breaking
through the trees . . .
her son’s nose print
on the hospice window


Second Place,  Mandy's Pages Annual Tanka Contest, 2015

The second place tanka also employs a traditional construction of S/L/S/L/L that worked very well with the word choice and imagery. Again there is a wealth of dreaming room. Is the narrator a dying person in the bed, or someone who is visiting a hospice patient? Is this son a child, a teen, or perhaps a mature adult? Is the “winter sunlight breaking through the trees” a sign that this person is aware of a world that lies beyond this one? Is she about to embrace death? The image of the nose print suggests someone looking closely to try to see what the woman is speaking of – is it real, or an illusion? The poet uses simple language to create a striking image that is easy to relate to, but does not define emotion. -- Judging Report by Claire Everett and David Terelinck

Skyline Haiku

lights spangle
the city skyline ...
night-shift nurses

A Hundred Gourds, 4:3, June 2015

Monday, July 6, 2015

New Immigrants, A Haibun

After the last shift, they come in a babble of tongues, battling over the Canadian winter, work-related issues, and politics -- both from the local district and back home. Their talk begins in Mandarin, merges with Cantonese, often migrates into accented English, and then returns to their native tongue. Most of the talk is repeated, amplified, and sometimes changed a little for a new co-worker or particular occasion. The only pause is at the mention of broken dreams.

chopsticks clicking
in Gold Mountain Diner
the smell of home

Haibun Today, 9:2, June 2015

Sunday, July 5, 2015

Silence Haiku

leaves drifting
after long time no see
a silence

Frogpond, 38:2, Spring/Summer 2015

Wednesday, July 1, 2015

Leap of Faith

a solo somonka for Søren Kierkegaard

among shadows
in this attic room
I hear
years of lonely nights
stacked against my mind

the waves
lapping against my feet ...
am I afraid
to say a final farewell
to this sunny world

Whispers, June 23, 2015