The Tanka Challenge Project
The sun is not up.
A distant train whistle cries warning
To still empty streets.
It is some mean prank of age
To wake so far before dawn.
04/01/2011
Insistent birdsong
Streams through the open window
Long before the sun.
This year's nesting family
Raucously demands breakfast.
04/02/2011
In their SUVs
Replete with flea market finds
They barely see me.
Somehow biking past them all
Is easier with Buddha.
04/03/2011
Fingers of sunlight
Reach through the window, taunting
As I try to work.
Thoughts of a stroll by the bay
Distract me from my duties.
04/04/2011
A fingernail moon
Pursues the last rosy tracks
Of the vanished sun.
Tired and hungry, I turn home
To an empty, silent house.
04/05/2011
The wisteria
Is already half naked
From your attentions.
Taunt me with smiling skies, then
Rattle windows, fickle Spring.
04/06/2011
Chaotic winds beat
Blossoms from flailing branches,
A snowless blizzard.
Clouds race each other to cross
The line of the eastern hills.
04/07/2011
Fox paws on the roof
Patter even as the sun
Peeps through the window.
The afternoon is confused
By rain and wind off the bay.
04/08/2011
They start while it's dark
Chirping relentlessly near
An open window.
To greet dawn so cheerfully
I'd need a decent night's rest.
04/09/2011
Perhaps this day is
Better spent on kite flying
Than flower viewing.
Such a rough handed spring has
Tattered so many branches.
04/10/2011
Where do I find it?
What is this thingummy called?
Why do it that way?
The days are not long enough
To answer all your questions.
04/11/2011
Graceful branches reach
Towards the skylight, posing
Like a small dancer.
Potted nature makes me pause
Each time I mount the stairway.
04/12/2011
Ruthlessly I prune
Lanky tendrils gone amok,
Cutting their lifeline.
Yet a jar of water holds
New promise with those cuttings.
04/13/2011
The scarlet sky begs
Admiration, reflected
In the channel's waves.
Spokes tick like a clock as I
Pedal across the old bridge.
04/14/11
She thinks I'm so brave.
Independence seems to her
So enviable.
"Strong" and "self-reliant" is
Often quite lonely.
04/15/2011
Sacred mountains call,
Demanding spring pilgrimage
Offerings of awe.
Blessings abound in the touch
Of a waterfall's cool kiss.
04/16/2011
Each step taken in
The mountains holds a blessing
For body and soul.
It's in the scent of the air
And in the depths of sound sleep.
04/17/2011
Strawberries glisten
Like rare jewels as they drain
In a reed basket.
Restraint be damned: I cannot
Resist such a sweet treasure.
04/18/2011
The streets are quiet.
Lights glow in a few windows,
A man coughs next door.
As I wait for sleep to come
The dog down the street barks once.
04/19/2011
A heavy grey quilt
Muffles the sky from the bay
To the hunching hills.
The very air feels sodden,
Yet looked-for rain does not come.
04/20/2011
We nod a greeting.
The light changes, we pedal,
I fall in behind.
At the bridge I can't help think:
Real men don't ride on sidewalks.
04/21/2011
Yet more clouds roll through
and shadow covers the land
As chilly winds blow.
Is it coincidence or
An old cosmic memory?
04/22/2011
Each stem is studied,
Each bud is considered for
Balance and beauty.
Under careful hands they bloom,
Dancing even in stillness.
04/23/2011
Another cool dusk
Cloaks the hills in weighty clouds
As the sunset fades.
Soon mist will hide those lanterns
Flickering on the hillsides.
04/24/2011
After all these years
And so many stitches sewn
You'd think I would know.
Needles and subtitled films
Are a bad combination.
04/25/2011
The glitter of lights
Strewn across the darkened hills
Reaches my window.
Halyards clink in the channel,
In the distance a train howls.
04/26/2011
Above the bustle
Of hurrying passers by
I hear notes bending.
As I fumble for my fare
An old man plays his erhu.
04/27/2011
Branches wave wildly
And shutters rattle protest
At the seaborne gale.
What kind of spring is this that
Tears at my hair and clothing?
04/28/2011
In my rustic hut
Warm blankets and tea beckon
Comfort before bed.
Yet I lie awake to gaze
A bit longer at the stars.
04/30/2011
Beneath the willow
He laments his loneliness
To the summer moon.
Alone too, I lie sleepless
All because of a bullfrog.
06/12/2011
There will be no glimpse
Of a sake cup moon in
The sky tonight.
The fading light is cool, grey
And soft rain drips from the eaves.
10/03/2011
She weaves patiently
Despite comings and goings
And slamming of doors.
I get a broom with a sigh
And reach once more for her web.
11/01/2011
Eyes, ears and mouth clasped
With frozen brass paws, they sit
Silent on their shelf.
Hear No Evil seems puzzled
By an eternal silence.
11/02/2011
Helplessly they wave
Leafy arms as if it would
Save them from torment.
Harsh gusts off the sea care not
For the plight of a few trees.
11/03/2011
I wake with a start.
Autumn rain hammers the eaves
Just above my head.
As suddenly as it came
It stops, leaving me wakeful.
11/04/2011
I close my eyes and
Drink its earthy scent as I
Wait for hot water.
At last, the blurred edges of
Sleep are banished for the day.
11/05/2011
He carried my things
And made some silly jest as
We walked together.
My breath caught on memory:
He reminded me of you.
11/06/2011
Moon and sun face off
Across the afternoon sky
Matching stare for stare.
All too soon the sun retreats
Before the advance of night.
11/07/2011
I followed the moon
Down quiet streets guarded by
Shadow-leafed trees.
I fished for my key ring and
Bade her a silent good night.
11/08/2011
I sit waiting for
Some inspiration beneath
A skylight gone dark.
There is no romance in a
grocery cart, or laundry.
11/09/2011
Oars slice through water
The color of sunrise as
I watch from the bridge.
Then it is my turn to strive
Against the traffic's current.
11/10/2011
Surrounded by books,
I delight in the world of
Words and ideas.
The more I read, though, the more
I find I have more questions.
11/11/2011
Preparing for sleep
I heard their whispers above
Against the canvas.
There's something peaceful
About soft rain on a tent.
11/12/2011
There you are again
Guarding my path homeward
And shining through blinds.
Wide awake, the moon and I
Keep each other company.
11/13/2011
An audible huff
Precedes the smell of
Year old dust burning.
The true harbinger of fall
Is the heater coming on.
11/14/2011
I am the shime,
The racing pulse as thunder
Builds behind my back.
An earthquake roars through my ears
While sticks gallop in my hands.
11/15/2011
It's not yet midnight
As I climb the stairs humming
Snatches of Handel.
A night of opera and
My head is full of eighth notes.
11/16/2011
Never was there shade
As restful and gentle as
That you lent in summer.
Though autumn winds tear your robes
It will be springtime again.
11/17/2011
(Inspired by “Ombra mai fu” from Handel's “Xerxes.”)
Angry clouds contort
Themselves, driven by hard winds
Off a cold ocean.
Impatiently they wait to
Ambush me with lashing drops.
11/18/2011
Instead of brush strokes
I write my poor intentions
With needle and thread.
My forebears copied the sutras,
I must take another way.
11/19/2011
Window frames rattle
As shingles echo with the
Drumming raindrops.
I wonder, would a new house
Sound the same way when it rains?
11/20/2011
A pale wisp of moon
Floats like a feather in the
Cold sky before dawn.
My feet feel heavy as I
Go out to begin my day.
11/21/2011
The moon hid from me
As only a few stars peeked
Through reaching branches.
Faced with a dark sky, I tried
To recall being in love.
11/22/2011
Melting brown eyes and
Whipping tail greet my return
Though he never barks.
My neighbor's dog makes up for
Not having one of my own.
11/23/2011
A gracious table,
Children and dog underfoot,
We laughed and feasted.
In this dewdrop existence
Is much to be thankful for.
11/24/2011
The bridge seems to float,
One end vanishing into
Nothing in the mist.
Bay and sky melt together
As if the city had gone.
11/25/2011
Tzuzumi boshi
Floats above my head, strangely
Silent for a drum.
The rattle of fallen leaves
Accompanies my footsteps.
11/26/2011
Stitch and snip and stitch,
Each seam is victory,
Each hem is progress.
Like a climb up a mountain
The summit view is worth it.
11/27/2011
Muffled by the mist,
I cannot see the lighted
Windows in the hills.
On such a night as this
The house feels like an island.
11/28/2011
Trees become shadows
Raising ragged arms as if
To haunt the still street.
Somewhere in the fog a train
Wails warning as it passes.
11/29/2011
Leaves scurry like rats
Along the gutter's edges,
Fleeing angry winds.
Over in the marina
Halyards bell against their masts.
11/30/2011
Copyright 2011, 2019 Lisa A. Joseph