Selected Tanka Prose: Not My President

In my dream, after the explosion of his twitter bomb, the fireball rises rapidly like a hot-air balloon into the sky, forms a mushroom cloud, and later the first black rain falls ...

on the sidewalk

outside Trump Tower

I p-i-s-s

and feel in my bones

old man winter

Skylark, 5:1, Summer 2017

Selected Tanka: Cricket Songs and Shadows Tanka

night by night
the cricket songs
grow weaker
no one comes to see me
except the shadows

Skylark, 5:1, Summer 2017

Selected Tanka: Aging Mind Tanka

no more loon calls
as the sun sets in flames
of color
alone by the lake
of my aging mind

Skylark, 5:1, Summer 2017

Ripples in the Sand Tanka

ripples in the sand ...
these fault lines
I drew ten years ago
between reality
and my immigrant dream

Skylark, 7:1, Summer 2019

Used to Be Tanka

an immigrant
talks nonstop on the bus ...
to Canadian ears
is there any difference
between his used to be and mine

Skylark, 7:1, Summer 2019

Selected Tanka: Migrant Dream Tanka

to Langston Hughes

steep terrain
and long rows of grape vines . . .
my migrant dream
dries up like a raisin
under a scorching sun

Revision, Skylark 4:2, Winter 2016

Selected Tanka: Border Town Tanka

the fog rolling
over the border town . . .
refugees
walk along train tracks
toward a blood moon

Skylark, 4:2, Winter 2016

Selected Tanka: Stepfather Tanka

at her door
the stepfather banging banging …
years later
sounds of the night remain
in the marrow of her bones

Skylark 4:1, Summer 2016

Selected Tanka: Door to Loneliness Tanka

at midnight
my thoughts and hand moving
across the page:
I tanka-barricade
the door to loneliness

Skylark 3:2, Winter 2015

Zen and Birdsong Tanka

all morning
doing in-breath and out-breath
to calm my mind --
outside the Zen center
trees alive with birdsong

Skylark 6:2, Winter 2018

Factory Life Tanka

this grinding
banal factory life
where I'm "nothing but"
raindrops slip off
a spoke in the wheel

Skylark, 6:2, Winter 2018

The Sense Of An Ending?

night shift done
I clutch a bottle
down the snowy road
to where we live
-- my shadow and I

one glass of wine
after another
loneliness
shrinks to the size
of my attic room

soul-tired
of my drunken shadow
in dim light
I open the window
to let out the silence

Skylark, 6:2, Winter 2018

Selected Tanka: Ilha Formosa Tanka

a shingled house
this small patch of Canada
to which I lay claim --
in a corner of my mind
Ilha Formosa echoes

Skylark 3:1, Summer 2015

Note: In 1544, a Portuguese ship sighted the main island of Taiwan and named it "Ilha Formosa," which means “Beautiful Island.”

Selected Tanka: Time Zone of Loneliness Tanka

this starless night ...
I dwell in a time zone
of loneliness
without a before,
an after or a when

Skylark 2:2, winter 2014

Winter Solitude

only the sound
of crunching cereal ...
my old dog
sits beside me
on Christmas morning

jingle bell decals
on the restaurant window
I listen
to my timid voice,
a table for one

Skylark, 6:1, Summer 2018

White Gaze Tanka

a wildflower
bends in the wake
of passing cars ...
under the white gaze
I ask myself, what am I?

Skylark, 6:1, Summer 2018

Homeland Tanka

over a wedge
of Canada geese
the airplane
bound to Formosa
the homeland I left

Skylark, 6:1, Summer 2018

Note: In 1544, a Portuguese ship sighted the main island of Taiwan and named it "Ilha Formosa," which means “Beautiful Island.”

Stretched Thin in Waiting Tanka

between us
a surging ocean
and a continent
our shared memories
stretched thin in waiting

Skylark, 5:2, Winter 2017

Not My President

In my dream, after the explosion of his twitter bomb, the fireball rises rapidly like a hot-air balloon into the sky, forms a mushroom cloud, and later the first black rain falls ...

on the sidewalk

outside Trump Tower

I p-i-s-s

and feel in my bones

old man winter

Skylark, 5:1, Summer 2017

Flames of Color Tanka

no more loon calls
as the sun sets in flames
of color
alone by the lake
of my aging mind

Skylark, 5:1, Summer 2017