Paulclem
09-23-2013, 07:00 PM
I've been trying to write Tanka - a Japanese form of five lines and a 57577 syllable pattern - for the past 6 months. I just thought I'd share a few with you if you wish to read. Tanka don't need titles, and can be linked together, but I thought I'd give these titles anyway.
Work Diary
I chop up my days,
nuggets of hours and minutes,
into working chunks
that I swallow every day
until I get fat on time.
Regeneration
New houses are built
out on the edges of town.
The shabby estates
will contain gleaming show homes
as an example for all.
Measuring Lonely
Measuring lonely.
Is it the total time spent
with no-one around,
or can you include the times
you walk like a ghost through crowds?
Night Hours
Night hours stretch away.
Red dawn breaks like a sore eye
without sleep. Day comes
loaded with today’s long tasks,
jostling with yesterday’s pain.
The Old Auntie
It’s quite sad to see
the old aunt’s life withered back
like winter bramble.
Just the sticks of an old way.
No more leaves, flowers or fruit.
Half a world away
Talking to my son;
messages from social sites
half a world away.
Still the language has power;
words forming into his face.
January’s end
January’s end.
Dirty snow is receding
like gums from old teeth.
In town it has lost beauty.
Ice paths snap like older bones.
Hospital
The hospital dash,
the heart pounding taxi run.
It’s the not knowing,
and the vague sense that we’ll be
swallowed by those doors one day.
Thursday Nights
Singular shoppers
venture out on Thursday nights.
The store to themselves,
aisles to mosey down and look;
all the things they might have bought.
Icy Gaze
Bits of snow falling,
like odd thoughts passing through minds.
Ideas may melt
into a past of lost dreams.
Fix them with an icy gaze.
Reality
The snow has gone but
Spring’s sunshine is deceptive.
A cold East wind blows.
I’m dressed in expectation
rather than reality.
Big Lorry
I’ll never forget
how close that big lorry came;
my mother’s drawn face;
that dead look when I found him;
how each day is uncertain.
Chinese Lanterns
The Chinese lantern
rises over the rooftops.
A birthday, maybe
celebrating an eighteenth.
The light drifts gently away.
Cherry Blossom
The cherry blossom
blows like the gone winter snow.
It’s spring is fading.
All beauty transforms into
everyday fruit: cherries, stones.
Exams
Sitting the exam;
Time ticks like a pencil scrape.
Ideas and formulas swim
before concentrating eyes.
Will you get the magic down?
Nightmares
“This is a nightmare”
I said in my sleep’s nightmare
without knowing it.
Everything went wrong that could.
Today’s rain comes anyway.
Birdsong
There has been birdsong
heard for millions of years.
When the traffic stops,
and the last car travels,
there will be birdsong.
Memories
Seeing on facebook
where the funeral was held
brought memories back.
We’d had fights and played rugby.
Mick – alive in the stories.
Empty Tuesday
An empty Tuesday
in the large supermarket’s
Better than Friday.
Loneliness is more restful
without the crush of crowds.
Time Warp
The house is time warped.
Spotless accumulation
of the decades past.
Nice tea sets and polished tools.
Sharp borders. Rigid routines.
Odd Details
Odd details come back.
The scar on my mother’s knee;
some deep childhood cut.
Before I flew, it looked like
the spread wings of a blue bird.
Different Countries
Chatting all night long;
The war, apprenticeship, work,
his life and history.
And in talking I realise
we come from different countries.
Life
Under the cool trees,
today’s flies flirt and scatter.
I walk on and hear
loud teenage constellations
with their banter and breakups.
Exotic
I learned to sit; think,
in the cafes in Europe.
Basle, Vienna.
Watching an exotic world.
Now the exotic is here.
Work Diary
I chop up my days,
nuggets of hours and minutes,
into working chunks
that I swallow every day
until I get fat on time.
Regeneration
New houses are built
out on the edges of town.
The shabby estates
will contain gleaming show homes
as an example for all.
Measuring Lonely
Measuring lonely.
Is it the total time spent
with no-one around,
or can you include the times
you walk like a ghost through crowds?
Night Hours
Night hours stretch away.
Red dawn breaks like a sore eye
without sleep. Day comes
loaded with today’s long tasks,
jostling with yesterday’s pain.
The Old Auntie
It’s quite sad to see
the old aunt’s life withered back
like winter bramble.
Just the sticks of an old way.
No more leaves, flowers or fruit.
Half a world away
Talking to my son;
messages from social sites
half a world away.
Still the language has power;
words forming into his face.
January’s end
January’s end.
Dirty snow is receding
like gums from old teeth.
In town it has lost beauty.
Ice paths snap like older bones.
Hospital
The hospital dash,
the heart pounding taxi run.
It’s the not knowing,
and the vague sense that we’ll be
swallowed by those doors one day.
Thursday Nights
Singular shoppers
venture out on Thursday nights.
The store to themselves,
aisles to mosey down and look;
all the things they might have bought.
Icy Gaze
Bits of snow falling,
like odd thoughts passing through minds.
Ideas may melt
into a past of lost dreams.
Fix them with an icy gaze.
Reality
The snow has gone but
Spring’s sunshine is deceptive.
A cold East wind blows.
I’m dressed in expectation
rather than reality.
Big Lorry
I’ll never forget
how close that big lorry came;
my mother’s drawn face;
that dead look when I found him;
how each day is uncertain.
Chinese Lanterns
The Chinese lantern
rises over the rooftops.
A birthday, maybe
celebrating an eighteenth.
The light drifts gently away.
Cherry Blossom
The cherry blossom
blows like the gone winter snow.
It’s spring is fading.
All beauty transforms into
everyday fruit: cherries, stones.
Exams
Sitting the exam;
Time ticks like a pencil scrape.
Ideas and formulas swim
before concentrating eyes.
Will you get the magic down?
Nightmares
“This is a nightmare”
I said in my sleep’s nightmare
without knowing it.
Everything went wrong that could.
Today’s rain comes anyway.
Birdsong
There has been birdsong
heard for millions of years.
When the traffic stops,
and the last car travels,
there will be birdsong.
Memories
Seeing on facebook
where the funeral was held
brought memories back.
We’d had fights and played rugby.
Mick – alive in the stories.
Empty Tuesday
An empty Tuesday
in the large supermarket’s
Better than Friday.
Loneliness is more restful
without the crush of crowds.
Time Warp
The house is time warped.
Spotless accumulation
of the decades past.
Nice tea sets and polished tools.
Sharp borders. Rigid routines.
Odd Details
Odd details come back.
The scar on my mother’s knee;
some deep childhood cut.
Before I flew, it looked like
the spread wings of a blue bird.
Different Countries
Chatting all night long;
The war, apprenticeship, work,
his life and history.
And in talking I realise
we come from different countries.
Life
Under the cool trees,
today’s flies flirt and scatter.
I walk on and hear
loud teenage constellations
with their banter and breakups.
Exotic
I learned to sit; think,
in the cafes in Europe.
Basle, Vienna.
Watching an exotic world.
Now the exotic is here.