UNDERTOW TANKA REVIEW: ISSUE # 4

Contents Page: January 30th

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Featured Tanka

Featured Tanka Art

Tanka Sequences ...
Tanka/Haiku Art
...
Tanka
...
Haiku Sequence
...
Editors Tanka
...

page

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Featured Tanka:

darkest hour
dreams of tender ghosts
float the cobalt sky
drunk on notes strung
from a muted trumpet
Carole Johnston, USA
Carole Johnston grew up near the New Jersey Shore where
she learned to roll with the crushing tide. She began writing as a
child but has been publishing for just a few years.
Now retired from teaching creative writing in a high school
arts program, she spends her time wandering with notebook and
camera, capturing moments in haiku and tanka.
Carole has published more than two hundred poems and
stories in print and online journals including: Frogpond, Blithe
Spirit, Ribbons, Atlas Poetica, Skylark, red lights, Cattails, The
Bamboo Hut, Moonbathing, Akitsu Quarterly, Undertow
Hedgerow, Writers and Lovers Cafe, A Zen Space, Inner Art
Journal. Her work has also appeared in poetry anthologies such
as Poetry As Prayer, Red Silk, and River Poets Anthology.
Arrows and Bones, Caroles unpublished novel is currently
seeking an agent. Her first poetry chapbook, Journeys: Getting
Lost, is now available from Finishing Line Press.

S. A. O.

The opening line of this poem is a mystery. It makes me feel like

it is my darkest hour. Yet the juxtaposition here, drunk on
notes strung / from a muted trumpet give the poem a gentle
and serene feeling. It is as if we were listening to a slow jazzy
tune in our sleep.

Featured Tanka Art

Artwork by Debbie Strange, Canada. Debbie is a

member of The Writers' Collective of Manitoba and The
Manitoba Writers' Guild, as well as several haiku and
tanka organizations. Her writing has received awards,
and has been translated and published internationally.
She was the featured poet in the United Haiku and
Tanka Society's September, 2014 issue of cattails, which
includes a list of publication credits. Debbie is an avid
photographer, whose images have been published and
showcased in The Poetry of Light exhibition. Her current
passion is for creating haiga and tanka art. She invites
you to visit her on twitter @Debbie_Strange to view
more of her work.
S. A. O.
Mercurial is a word loaded with meanings:
changeable, erratic, impulsive, etc., I love it. The
second line caught me by surprise, in this turning
season, I had to look closely at the photograph and
notice the leafless tree, the winter season of our lives. I
the following lines the poet skillfully brings into focus,
my body / weather vane tilting / in a new
direction, which connects with the opening line. It is a
marvelous juxtaposition and metaphor.

Tanka Sequence
To Her:
He cannot see you
silently pressing the wall,
will the dam break free?
clipped wings cannot take flight
without turning to the wind.
Response:
I weep like water,
even through stone palace walls,
slitted silt absorbs
its passing river portion,
sealing out intrusive winds.
Glenn Lyvers, USA

Averted Eyes
(Margaret Saine, USA)
body first possessed
by kisses, territory
that your arms embraced
and your honeyed tongue through me
feeding my hungry senses
my days belonged to
you without words, but your thoughts?
reveal your wishes
I long to understand you
in this silent endless night

as I walk in dreams
I grieve among the visions
of our bygone joys
your silence is my despair
I can't conjure up a smile
expelled from your heart
with nothing left to go on
no gaze and no touch
my desolate body slips
into bitter forgetting
we wanted to be
water, wanted to be sea
we were but flukes and relics
raped by the flood becoming
wailing creatures of the dark
Ending Journeys
(Margaret Saine, USA)
I wish for journeys
to end where the lovers meet:
in each others arms
uncommon ground between them
inspiring joy of suspense
sunk into our dreams
were worlds apart yet so close
our ships touch in sleep
winds wings enfold my body
soft music cradles my heart
I dream caresses
from waters, they press, embrace
my flooded body
as a lover's limbs impress

their sweet weight on moody love

but I have lost you
a road map to dark places
is all I have left
the wind on the waters blew
you deep into the abyss

Torture Song
(River Blue, USA)
I saw my face
in a cell at Guantanamo
electrocuting
his genitals, my government
waterboarding
I saw my face
in Ferguson right after
being shot
a commanding surge blasted
through the streets
I saw my face
in a man selling cigarettes
on a NYC street corner
screaming I cant breathe,
and I cant breathe
A Time before Time
(Steve Klepetar, USA)

Imagine a time
before time, so dense, so hot
compressed in no space
afloat in a great Nothing
waiting for the Cosmic Touch
First hydrogen, then
helium and some other
elements, then blank
for a million years or so
as the universe expands
and cools as atoms
form. Denser regions collapse
and rotate slightly,
forming disk like galaxies
rotating like wild skaters
drawing in their arms.
Imagine this wonderful
dance, witnessed from a
space that is no space, deep in
cells where mind and spirit meet.
Accident
(Kristina England, USA)
The road is glass
meant for breaking cars
that cannot stop.
I am a ballerina
spinning in place.
I scream in pain
as left rib crunches
and separates.
Oil stains look like
a kaleidoscope.

Kristina England, USA

Grandmother
(Kristina England, USA)
Yesterday
you fell,
split your lip.
Even crows
bleed.
Tomorrow,
escape cancer
for slumber.
Every bird must
shed.
#Madrid
(Arunansu Bandyopadhyay, India)
i see death
in your eyes
an afternoon
of long shadows
in Madrid
we never shied
from having bull-fights
in love
your pink fragrance
the lure of madness
Madrid sun
filtering in between
our words

your smile the colour

of chestnut candies

Tanka Art

Tanka
Some chickadees
land on leafless boughs.
A sensation of plenitude
after a full sensation
of nakedness.
Ali Znaidi, Tunisia
The suns rays
penetrate through
the doors holes.
Glittering pieces
of a shattered glass.
Ali Znaidi, Tunisia

Hot tears
inundating
the lonesome lotus flower.
I still believe in
dreams.
Ali Znaidi, Tunisia
A line of red ants
in dark phosphatic sand.
A flash of lighting
piercing the moonless
sky.
Ali Znaidi, Tunisia
Bare branches
of the almond tree.
A brainwashed
zombie
without a memory.
Ali Znaidi, Tunisia
Soft foam
touching my feet.
I remember
the cotton socks
I wore in my childhood.
Ali Znaidi, Tunisia
the swing set squeaked
a rusty song
time ticking
while we played

childhood ended
Briony James, USA
Nor'easter snowfall 1962
white mountain
piled next to the drive
looming large
to eight year old eyes
Briony James, USA
wheels within wheels
circles lead
back
and forward
I wind towards you
Briony James, USA
pale pink ridges
nacre pathways
spiral
the shell in my hand
a universe
Briony James, USA
my storybook forest
littered leaves
an autumn carpet
mushrooms dance
a fairy ring
Briony James, USA
worms and Beetles
feast

wool rug ruined

the weft exposed
like bones
Briony James, USA
the idea runs
round and round in my brain
a hamster
wheeling itself dizzy
no goal but forward
Briony James, USA
my shadow dances
alone
it laughs
when I try
to pirouette
Briony James, USA
hunter moon
my silver dollar casts shadows
of antler branches
makes me a goddess
my solitary hour
Briony James, USA
golden afternoon sun
long shadows
attenuate me
I reach
for invisible stars
Briony James, USA

standing behind my chair

she plays with my hair
on my questioning
she smiles and replies
your hair caught my eyes
Radhey Shiam, India
his apologies
like August cornhusksthe patch
of black-eyed susans
stare accusingly
from the safe house door
Al Ortolani, USA
fifty years ago
we waded the spring run-of
attacking crawfish with toy swords
hawks turn in the lazy sun
like straight razors
Al Ortolani, USA
tonight I write
my death poem, should
I punctuate it with
a period, or leave
the pregnant pause
Al Ortolani, USA
bite of wood smoke

from a neighbor's chimney

evenings cold star,
his wife clanking
her spoon in the casserole
Al Ortolani, USA
first night of autumn:
dripping at the open window,
the slow rain falls
without thunderbegonia
baskets still blooming
Al Ortolani, USA
uninspired, I gnaw
on the end crust
from a dry loaf of bread
crumbs littering the blank page
like a two day beard
Al Ortolani, USA
this morning earthworms
flushed by the all night rain
stretch like pencils across
the sidewalkclassroom lights
bright in the early gloom
Al Ortolani, USA
each morning walking
the same sidewalk, tufts
of dandelion as familiar

as the spots on my hands

leaves spin from the sky
Al Ortolani, USA
waking at 3 a.m.
no sign
of morning in the east
how lonely the garden lights
that run on yesterdays sun
Al Ortolani, USA
black and white
photograph of my father
the watch on his wrist
keeping time
in a box on my desk
Al Ortolani, USA
your silken blouse in moonlight
summer-lit branches
in the avocado orchard
blushed skin-flushed by youths turpitude
Ed Higgins, USA
the purple finch
drops notes, a communion wafer
on your tongue, red wine
to your lips, salvic spring
into your flesh

Ed Higgins, USA

no memories
of the worlds left behind
I buy a French Santa
from an American store
and wonder again who we are
Rebecca Drouihet, USA
pieces of the picture
drifting further apart...
a sea change
sweeps me far away
from familiar shores
Rebecca Drouihet, USA
on our honeymoon
to the Natchez of my birth
we find a house
where I hear ghosts whisper...
one of them me
Rebecca Drouihet, USA
turning prayer wheels
on the last day
of the year
a child's song
echoes from the mountains
Arunansu Bandyopadhyay, India

within the folds

of a paper rose
i keep tracing
the bends and alleys
of our talk
Arunansu Bandyopadhyay, India
can death
add one star
to the night mom's wooden owl
stares blankly
Arunansu Bandyopadhyay, India
i may hold
one full moon
between my fingers
but not the dreams
that slip beyond my view
Arunansu Bandyopadhyay, India
a mild rain
as night ends
your words
plopping into the muteness
of leaves
Arunansu Bandyopadhyay, India
you may burn
a hundred memories
i remain embalmed
in your self-seeking love
a helpless duck in an oil slick

Arunansu Bandyopadhyay, India

the more
we drift apart
i feel the sea wind
gathering
the rustiness of memories
Arunansu Bandyopadhyay, India
'sorry
for coming late'
echoes
a mockingbird
exploring the broken nest
Arunansu Bandyopadhyay, India
your nearness
as with a spring blaze
makes me dizzy-even with a heat-suit
i fear the lava
Arunansu Bandyopadhyay, India
sea
without a wave
floats the moon-towed to my dream
I've been sailing for ages
Arunansu Bandyopadhyay, India
there she was, sleeping

under a mountain of sheets

in a stranger's home-careless in a stranger's bed
a brief love afair
Lana Bella, USA
I roll out of bed
and brush the dregs of sleep
reality shifts-then borrow the altered self
in dress of safron silk
Lana Bella, USA
out by the old dock
a ghostly figure in gray
his face to the sea-his back against the lakeshore
down the copper moon
Lana Bella, USA
nooks and crannies
cubby holes in the attic
where we played
in dusty old trunks
strange winter secrets
Carole Johnston, USA
psychedelic deep
memories of childhood
dream shrouded
startled by huge dark wings
pen dipped in black ink

Carole Johnston, USA

a party
in my neighborhood
blues beat
paper lanterns and drums
air thick with mist
Carole Johnston, USA
comet sings
strange ethereal song
a universe
created by crescendo
chorus of angels
Carole Johnston, USA
conjuring sunset
I cause
the fruit to burst
pomegranate juice
drips down the white snow sky
Carole Johnston, USA
deep
inside a purple iris
indigo eyes
wait for my child mind
time traveling
Carole Johnston, USA
high summer
I purple my fingers

indigo my face
morning glories vine
to the sky with Jack
Carole Johnston, USA
cobalt blue
glass bottles illumine
the window
glow with my mothers ghost
alchemy of her tears
Carole Johnston, USA
stuck in gloom
rain dark empty day
candle light
and memories of road trips
blue sky rockets save me
Carole Johnston, USA
those girls
who lived in diferent worlds
in the same
neighborhood where one of them
set herself on fire
Carole Johnston, USA

starless night...
how starkly
this snufed-out candle

reminds me
that you are gone
Shloka Shankar, India
a wedge of winter sun
in the yard...
revisiting
the darkest corners
of my mind
Shloka Shankar, India
Christmas lights...
my unpeeled layers
of melancholy
break free
in your presence
Shloka Shankar, India
winter drizzle
leaves its stains
on the window-pane...
the echo of the last poem
in my head
Shloka Shankar, India
I didnt know
I didnt know
anything. A cinnamon
fern knew I was ignorant,
kept quiet.
Kenneth Pobo, USA

Even
after a heavy rain
ice patches.
The sun slips and falls,
no one to help her up.
Kenneth Pobo, USA
Ive stopped attending
the church in a monarchs wing.
Ill miss the singing
and total immersion
in a buddleia bloom.
Kenneth Pobo, USA
At 88
my dad plays ping pong,
whacks the ball well. Afterwards,
weather talk,
a can of Sprite.
Kenneth Pobo, USA
Nancy Sinatra
the squirrel knocks down
our suet feeder. Angry? Yes,
but I love the song she sings
while making mischief.
Kenneth Pobo, USA
Right now hellebores
fatten buds
under brown leaves and snow.
Right now spring
paces in the wings, ready to perform.

Kenneth Pobo, USA

My spouses
hairy chestthe shed,
many vines covering it,
sudden blossoms
between thick tendrils.
Kenneth Pobo, USA
An emptiness
In the American heart.
When your owner says Come
and puts the dish of oil down,
lap it up, every drop.
Kenneth Pobo, USA
A terrier barking
at a star. And why not?
Id do anything to get love,
distance means nothing-In fact, I bark louder.
Kenneth Pobo, USA
On our wedding day
we smelled a skunk.
Was this a warning?
A blessing?
Neither. The skunk was busy.
Kenneth Pobo, USA
on the ridge
a thoughtless new estate
cuddly koalas
running between
the bulldozers

Barbara A. Taylor, Australia

retracing my steps
through the tangled garden
panic stations
the shock of finding
my specs have gone
Barbara A. Taylor, Australia

inside for a week

sweeping, cleaning
visitors arrive
our day shared outside till
their departure at sunset
Barbara A. Taylor, Australia
shamefully
accepting the fact
if I must stoop
for that new kitchen gadget
it will never be used

Barbara A. Taylor, Australia

just when

will this mania end?

my TV programs
cast aside for repetitions
of muscly men scoring goals
Barbara A. Taylor, Australia
lingering cold
am surprised to spy
a jonquil bud
I throw his last chopped log
onto glowing coals
Barbara A. Taylor, Australia
between the waves
sixty-seven years ago
in mothers womb
still, Im floating onwards
with hope against the tide
Barbara A. Taylor, Australia
http://batsword.webs.com/

last days
endless summer
water lies low
in the deep end
it doesn't matter
S. Black, UK

night shift
working at
a job
that doesn't need
working at
S. Black, UK
the photograph
behind
the photograph
he wishes
he could take it back
S. Black, UK
young and dumb
the brains we were born with
had't filled our heads
and the promises made
hadn't betrayed us yet
S. Black, UK
middle aged man
in yellow lycra
racing
against
the clock

S. Black, UK
the bells sounds
a ship
weighed heavy
with everything
we failed to forget
S. Black, UK
condoms
fallen stars
caught by winter trees
guiding the path only
the anonymous take
S. Black, UK
summer high
committal procedure
looking
after
Cleopatras cats
S. Black, UK

we hold hands
and look out the window
watching
the snow fall on

everything but us
Dave Read, Canada
a tea bag
dipped in steaming water
I can no
longer see through
what was just clear
Dave Read, Canada
the poem I couldn't
hear in my head
has filled
with the sounds of
the tv upstairs
Dave Read, Canada
the canopy opens
to a little sunshine
a moment
of light on this
long dark path
Dave Read, Canada
the river flows
beneath a sheet
of ice
I cannot answer
his questions of death
Dave Read, Canada

thinking I
still stand a chance
the emoji
that winks at
the end of her text
Dave Read, Canada
the hardwood's cold
against bare feet I approach her
with the news she
doesn't want delivered
Dave Read, Canada
photos printed
on recycled paper
we've never
been able to
make these moments last
Dave Read, Canada
the full
moon fat in
the night sky
I count the studs
on Orion's Belt
Dave Read, Canada
she comments on
my salt and pepper hair
still seeing
me in
black and white

Dave Read, Canada

Haiku
Chinglish - Haiku Sequence
(Debra McQueen, USA)
Mind The Hilly Road
the sign suggests to climbers
The Great Wall summons
Sign: Sleep Slop Slow Down
Toddlers shriek by joyously
Skidding to a halt
Sweet Lift Come From Here
Convenience store promises
Tipsy on Tsingtao

Sign: O not waste food!

aside greasy bufet line
O, Jiozi, tempting
Does it need saying?
Sign: No spitting anywhere
Yes it really does
Do not shout slapstick!
a sign outside the hot pot
never deciphered
A sign: caution, slip
uneven steps that lead one
to Buddhist temple
Sign: caution, stumbling
on the Longxing garden path
only if unsure
Sign: caution, drop down
by the temples exit stair
dropping into grace?

Editors Tanka

I'm going back

to a time when I was
a woman
my kimono brushing
the arid ground
Sergio Ortiz, Puerto Rico
for Fritz Kersting 1950-2014
unmoored
launched cloud-ward
he dreams
with heavenly music
carnations tinged with love
Sergio Ortiz, Puerto Rico
winter
I have walked through
your storms
dreaming within the folds
of frizzled viola petals
Sergio Ortiz, Puerto Rico