Magnapoets Japanese Form

my once-held dream
of working a farm,
feebly realized
in this backyard patch
of basil and mint?


bottle rockets, Feb. 2008

how tenderly
he delivers the eulogy
and kisses the forehead
of the wife
he cheated on

first published in Ribbons

spring morning

the magnolia blossoms

begin their fall

(Published in Sketchbook, April 08)

cropped lawn -

how many purgatory years

for daisies genocide ?

***

pelouse tondue -

combien d'années de purgatoire

pour génocide de pâquerettes ?

Our first meeting in Moscow was not easy. After breakfast, Valeria went to work and left us sitting in the kitchen. Natalia doesn't speak Italian neither English: only Russian… so we stayed there glancing at each other, in silence, without saying a word. nevertheless I am at ease even not knowing why, and I relax.

Suddenly the turtle in the aquarium plunges into the water and we both turn to look at it.  I stand up to get a better look on the turtle and to stretch my legs a bit. Natalia follows me.

"in Italian we call it TARTARUGA", I say to Natalia. She smiles and repeats like enjoying the word "TAR-TA-RU-GA"

[…]

I was surprised when before leaving she told me in English: "Hope to see you soon…" Smiling, I replied: "Oh! I hope the same!"

   pizza for dinner--
   my mother-in-law tries
   to speak Italian

starry night the darkness between fireflies

(Published in Acorn #20)

the redness
of the robin's breast –
April snow

crvenilo
crvendaćevih grudi --
aprilski sneg

Translation: Saša Važić

business district -

a paper plane

in a puddle -

***

quartier des affaires -

un avion de papier

dans une flaque

days later . . .

the quarrel

where we left it

(Published in Chrysanthemum)

a strand of honey
a squirt of lemon
for my tea
even in beverages
I seek balance

first published in Ribbons
photo taken and copyrighted by Chris Rod

more than once
I've ended up lost
in this maze of a town,
on my way to
nowhere in particular

"Tanka Cafe," Ribbons, spring 2008

memories--
the smell of matches
fills the kitchen

April morning -

I choose the bowl

with the wild flowers

***

matin d'avril -

je choisis le bol

aux fleurs des champs

in hospital sheets
tangled white and frail
my roommate
stares back at me
with my own mortality

first published in MET

those young years
I spent trying
not to be him;
now, in photos, me
with the same stern jaw

Simply Haiku, spring 2008.

 

main street

a red pick-up cruises

the spring rain

through the rain
I lead you to my home
for dinner...
the look on your face
when you find out I can cook

first published in Tanka Cafe
photo taken and copyrighted by keithandlaura

I meander
through tall pines,
before morning
lose myself in a forest
of green flannel sheets

        squinting,
        I imagine it . . .
        our rustic home
        sprouting up
        through winter ryegrass

"meander" pub'd in MET and "squinting" in Landfall.

a pocketful

of small change . . .

the stars

(Published in a slightly different form in Sketchbook, March 2008)

glad of his return
after this last trip
I give his hot chocolate
an extra squirt of
whipped cream

first published in MET

wind in the pines

I reach past

my fingertips

 

yoga 101 (tanka sequence)

traffic thick
two minutes late to class—
the yogis
in their cross-legged worlds
my own breaths rapid

our teacher
asks if we enjoy
the sun salute. . .
rebellious today
in my mind, I say “no”

wishful yearning
to be a graceful tree. . .
we are told
all trees shake and sway
(some are even uprooted?)

fallen leaf
resting on the ground
~ breathe in, breathe out ~
for thirty seconds
I am a child again

I own no pets
yet a whole menagerie
here today:
happy bear, sailing swan
and briefly, a butterfly

ah, arching cat
and stretching its hind legs
the downward dog—
my muscles challenged
as my identity wanes

peace found within
at the mountain lookout. . .
steady arms
outstretched against the wind,
I am a proud warrior

and now a corpse
with visions of light, until—
the bell’s cold peal
signaling the end of class
shocking me back to life! 

Author’s notes: Words in italics indicate specific yoga poses. The child pose can also be referred to as fallen leaf.

pub'd in Lynx.

 

delirious
with fever
I shiver and shake
my long-dead mother’s hand
reaching for my forehead

first published in MET
photo taken and copyrighted by Cecil P Whitt

starry night

hugging each other

against the cold

tropical mural
real vines climb
the painted trees


owl flight
the silence
of dawn



peach harvest
a traffic jam
of tractors

-Margarita Engle

he sends me
pink pyjamas covered
with snowflakes
so I can have winter
anytime I like

first published in MET
photo taken and copyrighted by Guixia

homemade books—
You can be a writer
my dad once said
though hoping, I suspect,
I'd do something sensible

first pub'd in Simply Haiku, spring 2008.

waves crash
on shore, only to pull back
again—
as though I need to explain
why I love you

first published in MET
photo taken and copyrighted by zwitser

my father's funeral

at last

I meet him

 

tinywords, 8 June 2006

age eight
I watched them take my father
by ambulance
seventeen years later
here I am waiting, waiting

first published in MET
photo taken and copyrighted by  Annet van Raalten