UNDERTOW TANKA REVIEW: THE COMPETITION

Contents Page: January 30th page

1. Winners of the first Tanka competition2. Haiku

FIRST PLACE

on the ridge I shout Coo-eebut in truth I knowshe’s too far awayto answer

Barbara A Taylor Australia

SECOND PLACE

the Elvis and JesusBar and Grill is openfor your prayersdreams of old street winossinging the whisky blues

Carole JohnstonLexington, KentuckyUSA

THIRD PLACE

I peerin streaming sunlightand remember—80 percent of dustis our own dead skin cells

Cates, AnnaWilmington, OHUSA

HONORABLE MENTION

wrote a bookcalled Midnight Butterflyin secret codeall my sorrows hiddeninside flowers and stars

Carole JohnstonLexington, KentuckyUSA

HONORABLE MENTION

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Brautigan wrote“The Galilee Hitchhiker”when I was 11trying to love Jesusboth gone now - tears still burn

Carole JohnstonLexington, KentuckyUSA

HONORABLE MENTION

into the garbage my moth-eaten beret from Sunday-School days...yesterday's sinscome rushing back

Barbara A. TaylorAustralia

HONORABLE MENTION

gulls nestingon the cottage rooffallen featherssprouting from my bootstoday, my feet have wings

Debbie StrangeCanada

HONORABLE MENTION

dead fawnthe yogurt meatof vulturespicking overthe endless days

Anna CatesWilmington, OHUSA

Tanka

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Prerna BakshiMacao

Prerna Bakshi is a sociolinguist, research scholar, writer and translator of Indian origin, currently based in Macao. Her work has previously been published in over two dozen journals and magazines, most recently in Bottle rockets, Grey Sparrow Journal, Silver Birch Press, Wilderness House Literary Review, Kabul Press, Misfit Magazine, andWordgathering: A Journal of Disability Poetry and Literature. 

No longer wanting to remain purethis page is screamingto be smeared all over with ink

What will be left behind?the silence of unsaid thingscrease on clothes you last wore

It rained all nightit was persistentyet the cactus on my balcony thoughrefuses to bloom....tough to please

So much has changed

everything around mesince you left - all differentexcept me

Since you've been goneI've been sleeping on the same side of the bedthat once used to be yourshoping you would show up--nudge me away

Gone for years -standing in the kitchencooking her once favorite dishI take an extra biteon her behalf

Debbie StrangeCanada

the x-raysof my flattened breastspressed rosesthese black petals etchedwith traceries of white

the sweatermother knit for me

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a rainbowfading at the edgesher evanescent life when we were girlsthere was an unspoken ruleavoid loitering maleswhy was I ashamed whenhe exposed himself to me dead houseflieslitter my windowsillblind-sidednot even compound eyessee the way out of here

Anna CatesUSA

Anna Cates resides in Wilmington, Ohio with her two cats, Freddie and Christine, writes. She holds an M.F.A. in Creative Writing, and several other advanced degrees related to English studies, and teaches English online for several universities. She is a regular contributor to short form poetry publications, and her first full length collection of haiku and other poems, “The Meaning of Life,” from Cyberwit.net, is available on Amazon.

cemetery breezespiriting fallen leavesI cross the bike trail

stopping by fleeting shadowsremembering mulberries

if onlyI were a little smallerI’d fit betterbeneaththe microscope

cold nightrain-washed pines glistenin the moonlightwoods remember when oncewere wolves howling

grill smokeafter hot dogsbread crusts for ducklings—by the don’t feed the birds signour anarchy

purple smoke bloomthe clouds below the clouds abovesprinkling rainI almost catch a rainbowbefore it is gone

gravel roadgaining the hilltopat starry duskI visit graves with flowersnot wilted yet

a Buckeye fallsI blame the squirrelson summer’s endall streams flow backto the Mississippi

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dusky skya disillusioned pinkbeside dark watersI lose beliefin the Loch Ness Monster

I peerin streaming sunlightand remember—80 percent of dustis our own dead skin cells

morning frostwet toilet paper hangsfrom the branches—how the grins of chunkedjack-o-lanterns crumble

setting suna poet’s penleakingblood, sweat,& daffodils

park bencha pigeon waits for crumbsbeside the fountainsthe city seems emptynow that you are gone

cold earthabove our decayfresh flowershow time grinds rockinto dust

Jesus Chameleon The Mariana Islands, U.S.A.

Traces of firs fellon painted leafin a cleft pouchingbeneath elusive grass bladesin late summer.

Penguinspropelthemselvesdeepbelow!

Carole JohnstonLexington, KentuckyUSA

moonlight boogie with Midnight Butterflystar hopping down the road toward solsticeleave your ugly at the door

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on the roadwith Midnight Butterfly Jackwonderingif we’re just a metaphorrambling through your dreams

moon greenshe blooms wide wingsneonlike a ghost moth glittering midnight

wings filled with pale green ichorshe flies only at midnightlives only for love

midnight girlsleeping on a park benchglass wings glitterlike butterfly cathedralno hate can break her

wrote a book called “Midnight Butterfly Dreams”metaphors creptacross secret pagescaterpillars munching truth

the silent scent of waxy crayonsI press hardmandala grows brighttime stands still

Brautigan wrote“The Galilee Hitchhiker”when I was 11trying to love Jesusboth gone now - tears still burn

on the road with Brautigan in apink CadillacElvis in the back seatsinging about blue moons

we pick up Jesuson the New Jersey Turnpikehitching a ridein the back seat with Elvissinging a sad duet

all evening the bullfrog's voice

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tin roof rainsound of the streamdream conversation

D. Russel MicnhimerTalking Earth USA

red lips of sunsetslowly swallow mountain peakchasing crimson sundark throat night quickly approacheseager tongue of moon thrust out.

dark without your smilenight sky without moon or starsstill shines brighter thansea bereft of waves or tidespeak without glacier or stone.

arms of gentle breezeembrace late afternoon heata hug of coolnesslike a returned lover kisspromising a good night's sleep.

darkness like rabbitflees approaching dawn beatersright into day netacross canyon narrow mouthyawning full bellies at dusk.

bellies still rockingbreaths back to even measureheart beats loud in earssatisfaction sighs more laterasleep now in lover's arms

Wonja Brucker, USA

abandoned tree houseatop old oak tree echoesthe children's playmany years ago since thenyet my heart never forgets

monsoon season putseveryone in rotten moodeven my neighborfrets my little dog's barkinghis bull dog barks louder

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rose of Sharonblooms trumpet petalsall summer longbumblebees and butterfliesfrolic in harmony

no stir --acacia mourns in whiteheavy blossomsin humid air waitingsummer shower to arrive

Chrysanthemumsgrace my neglected gardenin autumn colorsmonarch butterflies flitin the pumpkin patches

a lone autumn leafstuck on the wet pavementand trampled onduring rush hour trafficsnow turns to slush upon fall

sit by the windowwatching snowfall outsideno snow plow trucks yetSunday morning still asleepforgetting Monday commute

Rajandeep GargIndia

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moon rollingrootless over the skystill conquers nowhere…my sleepless desires awaitan empty nest by the dawn weaving night in silkstars entangled in starlightsmoldering dead souls…with borrowed hopes of lightbeyond departed shores of life osmosisof past silhouettedbehind my eyes…the life relieved against timewith postcards in black-and-white a bridegowned in silkon dawn of spring…the crumbled desires of old leavesescaped silently with the winds

hingedto a lanky wirecrescent moon…the night I spentunsettled

don’t askthose fallen leavesof their infidelity…what dost thou know ofpain of solitude? walking alongthis un-treaded pathI break…the silenceof autumn leaves walking onthe curve of seasinking into…her deep eyeslined with soot weepingthrough the veinsmy broken vase…my life sinking in itselfan inch by dusk

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HAIKU

Margaret SaineUSA

bañando el jardínlos trinos del zenzontlefelices sueños

happy dreams... the garden bathed in the trill of a mockingbird

un mosaico hechosonrisa por sonrisanuestro mundo

a mosaic laid smile by smile our world

un corredor depájaros migratoriosmis pensamientos

a corridorof migratory birdsmy thoughts

Roberto Santamaría

España

Rosa de amor

De lacerante espina

Surge el dolor

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Love rose…

From a wounding thorn

Comes the pain

El viento ruge

De las ramas del sauce

Cuelgan jirones

Wind roarsIn the willow branchesScraps hanging 

Marisa Martínez Pérsico

Argentina / Italy

el cuerpo

una constelación de historias

que se ven de noche

the body…

a constellation of stories

appears at night

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