The Tanka Challenge Project    

2018

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Late afternoon sun
Conspires with a playful breeze 
And the calls of birds. 
After a busy morning 
I cannot control a yawn.

04/01/2018 

Blossoms give way to the
Clatter of hammering and 
Rising walls and roofs. 
Even the birds are drowned out 
By relentless construction.

04/02/2018 

Instead of songbirds,
Defiant crows greet the dawn 
With their rough clamor.  
They taunt the men in hard hats 
And mock the ugly condos.

04/03/2018 

Phenomenal woman,
She'd have been ninety today 
That poet teacher. 
Still her words rise to inspire 
From a past rooted in pain. 

04/04/2018 For Maya Angelou 

I had to wonder
At the newcomers standing 
In the side alley. 
Why all of a sudden do 
We have so many trash bins?

04/05/2018 

A persistent hiss
Wakes me from a dead sleep in 
The dark of my room. 
Just the rain, but now I must 
Get up and close some windows.

04/06/2018 

Awake so early
I run through plans for the day 
And put on my clothes. 
Rain or no rain, I have things 
To do and people to see.

04/07/2018 

Clay footed, I failed. 
I was not who you think and 
I let myself down. 
I can only go foward, 
Wiping boots on yesterday.

04/08/2018 

Bitter on the tongue
Is the medicine I use 
To deal with these aches. 
Bitter too is the knowledge 
I must battle time itself.

04/09/2018 

A crescent moon peeps
Shyly through the streaky blinds 
Of a grey dawn sky. 
Like her, I am not looking 
Forward to what this day brings.

04/10/2018 

Kindle and Facebook hate 
Working together and so  
They ate my poem!!!! 
The challenge says no rewrites: 
This is not about egrets.

04/11/2018 

Time to shut windows
Against the darkness and winds 
Blowing from the hills. 
Though I saw wisteria today, 
The cold still clings with vigor.

04/12/2018 

The clock has just chimed,
Reminding me that the day 
Is nearly over. 
Yet here I sit once again, 
Struggling to craft a poem.

04/13/2018 

Errands completed,
I took the road by the bay 
On my way back home. 
The tide was high and white with 
Blustery winds from the sea.

04/15/2018 

Storm and Sun fight
To dominate a spring day, 
With all their powers. 
When it includes a hail storm, 
Don't blame it on foxes.

04/16/2018 

He stood on the grass,
Challenge gleaming in his eye 
As I came outside. 
Silly crow, I am nowhere 
Near your nest in that maple!

04/17/2018 

I am in no mood
To write anything pithy 
Or witty or wise. 
Insert requisite amount 
Of profanity instead.

04/19/2018 

A long road traveled
Mostly in darkness 
Ends with warm welcome. 
What fun it is to visit 
Friends I don't often get to see.

04/20/2018 

Jade eyes assess me:
"NOW!" he cries, then turns away, 
Flicking his striped tail. 
"NOW!" he leaps into my lap 
To accept the worship due.

04/21/2018  

Willing hands and feet
To remember our training 
I must hold the field. 
As I count bruises later 
I am not discontented.

04/22/2018 

I can never know
What a Monday morning holds, 
Knowing only this: 
It is impossible to 
Compose by a ringing phone.

04/23/2018 

No peaceful garden
Awaits me with writing tools
And floating wine cups.
I sit in a quiet house,
Wondering what I should write.

04/24/2018

He wanders slowly
As if drunk or half asleep
Across my window.
First warm, then chilly, springtime
Is confusing for a bee.

04/25/2018

Spines in tidy rows
They wait for the right reader
To discover them.
There is no trove of treasure
To compare with a bookstore.

04/28/2018

How can it be that
The gingko is dressed in green
Instead of bright gold?
A strange warm wind dries the air;
The season is out of joint.

11/2/2018

After a full day
Attending a new Princess
I took the coast road.
Handfuls of stars vied with mist
To guide my path home again.

11/3/2018

The sun does not care
About numbers on a clock
She just treads the sky.
I shall miss my afternoons
As winter darkness holds sway.

11/05/2018

Even late at night,
The clouds go rosy with light
From the nearby port.
Ships from far away bring forth
And bear away their treasures.

11/05/2018

An afternoon breeze
Carries the scent of the sea
Through open windows.
I stop to admire the lap
Of those persistent blue waves.

11/06/2018

At last the maple
Changes into new attire
Of green edged crimson.
Yet the breeze is still too warm
By the calendar's counting.

11/07/2018

Again my eyes burn
With unshed tears as I rise
With the smoke stained sun.
I wait for news of my friends
While Paradise becomes Hell.

11/09/2018

Dammit, Facebook, I
Was actually trying
To read that item.
Please stop refreshing my screen
When I have not asked for it.

11/10/2018

It's eight forty one
On a Sunday night and I
Still must write today.
Head cold and heartache make for
Feeble poetry subjects.

11/11/2018

My day consists
Of all the duties no one
Else wants to deal with.
Left undone, these unseen tasks
Would quickly make themselves felt.

11/12/2018

With tales of heroes
Beloved by so many,
He taught and amused.
Storytellers are heroes
As much as their creations. 

11/12/2018 For Stan Lee

Far away fire stirs
A fog that reddens the sun
And hides the city.
That stinging veil is woven
With the threads of blackened dreams.

11/15/2018

Too many dark days
Have I spent huddled inside,
Restless and twitchy.
At least there is enough tea
And reading to catch up on.

11/17/2018

The garden next door
Is ragged and overgrown,
And drowning in leaves.
Yet the vines are not quite done
Yielding the odd tomato.

11/18/2018

All I did was sit
For a moment, not knowing
I would surrender.
Naps are much underrated,
Yet their power is stealthy.

11/20/2018

Come sweet, blessed rain!
Wash the world with your cool scent
And sweep down the gutters.
Leaves gleam like precious gemstones,
Scattered about underfoot.

11/21/2018

Wherever you are,
And whoever you are with,
Have a lovely day.
A holiday is special
No matter how you spend it.

11/22/2018 

The metronome drip
From the eaves is hypnotic
In quiet moments.
I have tea and a good book
Until sleep takes hold of me.

11/23/2018 

It's such a pity
To have wasted the weekend
With a pesky cold.
I got little enough done
And drank so very much tea.

11/25/2018

Rain hisses outside,
Rushing down the gutters in
A noisy whisper.
There will be mud tomorrow
Where they are building houses.

11/28/2018


Copyright 2018 Lisa A. Joseph

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