Tanka Journal

Issue 4

45 tanka by 32 poets, from Tanka Journal’s free online edition.

Tanka Journal Issue 4 paperback cover

Also in print

Issue 4 in paperback

This issue was printed by Prolific Press. Copies are still available in the bookstore.

Buy the paperback
Tiny frogs jumpfrom dark and rainy roadwaysto strike passing cars I hear the popcorn popping and remember Florida
whispering voicesglorious apparitionsspirit awakenspeacefully you slipped awayyet undeniably here
floating on a shellon my way to Camelot;I loved Lancelotbecause Arthur, the Sun Kingblinded with his perfection.
I heard music inevery word you spoke. And you?You seem deaf to it.My love, Your words are musicthat dances us to heaven.
Mid-morning stillnessEmerging sun rays through cloudsDue swept trees waitingCapturing streaming breezesMotioning incoherence
Midnight, bright moonlightCombs my hair with memoriesOf days without youWandering on old back roadsVainly searching for your smile
Light Switch by Nikki Anne SchmutzDeep in my abyssI alone dwelt in darknessUnable to loveUntil in my heart I foundLove for self turned on the light
Animated birdsserenade spring morning walksmixed with melodiesof onomatopoeiadelightful to human ears
A crow fell from cliffsWhere granite, wind and snow workAgainst each other.Within dawn a fleck of nightSlides down northwall snow
That tear in my eyeThat quiver in your sweet voiceNight gathers near usWe realize time's harsh natureTime is flying away nowMy raw throat catchesI cannot say it well nowA breeze is blowingThe petals of the lilyMy quiet shaking sorrow
Very peaceful nightReflection of the bright moonOn the distant stream...Is appearance of fair ladyIn the plain silver mirror
a horned lark'stinkling callorange moonalmost fullof August
wind storma single shinglelands in the grasshow everything crumblespiece by piece
Air raid sirens blareDeath rains down upon LondonA city in fearChildren gather up the bricksGhosts follow silent and sad
Main Street at midnightCoffee still on our warm breathKisses like fireConversations rememberedMemories meant to be kept
Invoking powersof the Indian spiritsbenevolent friendsfrom another space and timein this tapestry of life
Two angels at resttripping through innocent mindsprincess dresses and playtimelittle ones nestled in dreamsprotected by God above.
There in the moonlightA song hovers on my lipsDreams of you woke meI stand staring through the nightTrying to make sense of it
Wrapped up in the nightsoft kisses with crimson lipsrosary beads gonea revised book of prayerwritten between us
grabbing stonesfrom the beach or the parkI struggleto hold onto themas I do memory
Lost in darkest daysmy soul wounded, cries in painLost and desperateI feel your hand inside mineand I know I'm not alone
Worn lungs stop heaving;The center of my chest falls;Endorphins racing;Dubiety releasing;Admitting a new feeling.
Do not stay there, coldand bitten by the wind's lashes,because she said to wait,the sun blinding and the snowcontracted to your thin shoes.
Natural calmnessis available worldwideand cost effectivetake time daily as neededenjoying God's creations
DaffodilsDaffodils, smudgesOf yellow blooming sturdyThrough spring's first whispersSplintering winter darknessWelcome burgeoning shards of light
My dad called his suitmarrying-and-burying;he didn't wear it when I wed, and hospitals don't allow such dignity.
The crow on the fence croaks, its voice ungentle, harsh;swallows carrion. Yet there is beauty in its necessity, and its strength.
The starry eyed moonis glancing within her eyestwilight is her songshe is a dreamy flowerfilled with such light and wisdom.
Wooden jewel boxYou made for me that ChristmasDistance between usEncouraged by wicked handsNot those of your carpentry.
The river flows downa long rock-lined bank seekingearth's open sea mouth.I, like a stranger on shore,pause, lips parted, as if to drink.
Blue black wallpaperbruises the wall with colorthat splits the half mind.I slip through the open door, kiss free air, float, quick, away
My Home smells silentNo cooking and no flowersThe husband is goneBoth my boys are in collegeSo it goes...from Home to house.
Autumn leaves scream outturning blood red in death throesnot so differentfrom the French guillotine, withaudience just as admiring.
amber riversmoke signals new birthcoming forththe midwife is unseenin the vast nursery
The lake holds its breathbetween inhale and exhalewe are in stillnessdragonflies skim the waterripples begin once again
our voyage beginswith footprints found in the mistcarried off by birdsthe only course for certainis a flight around the sun
Delights of AutumnDevastating and fragileCompany of treesAre busy merrymakingIn an old house balcony
on slender stemsa circle of pink rosebudsopens in the vase:a moment of harmonyamong the corps de ballet
cows nod sleepilyunder oak trees gentle shadethen a silent callmilking time has just arrivedslowly rise in unison
lifetime of hard worketched in the dark ruched skina leathery facewith serenity that glowsfrom honesty and calmness
Sheila's gangplank sagged.I walked it and fell intothat icy sea-slush.She lowered no rope for me.I built a cabin down deep.
Beyond AngerLiteral drive to hateUntamed and freeLiving a dream of destructionBurying all chance of hope
The evergreens waitalone on the mountainsideknowing fall will come dressed up in their summer clothes they still court, as in their youth.
spring doesits bulbing push-upspoet narcissusproud among the stonesof rubbled cottage walls
PassageThe tunnel beneathThe Detroit River carriesCars in its bellyJust as you tumble insideMe ready to see the lightVolume 2The book is closed nowBut wonder simmers insideI wait for someoneTo open up my shelterAnd allow temptation in

Issue 4

Poets in this issue