The beauty of short tanka

These tanka are from the Spring/Summer 2016 issue of Gusts, Canada’s Tanka magazine. I have a preference for shorter poems, revel in how so few words can say so much, and find longer tanka are often poems to which not enough thought has been given.

only had
one dream about
my father—
he walked
right past me

Stanford Forrester

sunlight
in between storm clouds
there is hope
for a sunny day
with you

Mike Montreuil

just
for a heartbeat
let me breathe-in
the scent
of his hair

Huguette Ducharme

sharing
the glass—
a taste of lipstick
just before
the taste of wine

Colin Bardell

I’ll bury it
moon deep for now—
this longing
for a lover
like you

Paul Smith

another
child dies
of cancer
clouds shape shifting
white to black

Pamela A. Babusci

Emptying trash
the letter
I threw away
I throw away
again

Carol Purington

a contrail
stretching straight
toward the sun
I was watching it
until I felt lonely

Kozue Uzawa

Shinoe Shôda, who died herself in 1965 from an illness caused by the atomic bomb, depicts the tragic death from the bomb of children and a teacher who tried to protect them:

the big bones
must be
the teacher’s
the little skulls
are amassed nearby

Hiroshi Homura’s skillful and unexpected juxtapositions carry a powerful message of radiation and the fallibility of the human body:

at ground zero
of the atomic bombing
I’m
unwrapping soap
at night, naked

Yoshiko Takagi describes how children are given tablets to protect them from radiation of the thyroid after the Fukushima nuclear plant disaster in 2011:

how cruel—
on a child’s
palm
one pale red tablet
of potassium iodide

Sanford Goldstein says that variations keep readers alert—and appreciative:

tonight’s relief: /pie /deep /in a cafeteria/ booth         Sandford Goldstein

this child
sick
night after night
and still
the stars

Christina Nguyen

beachcombing
I feel at home
perhaps
in another life
I was a seagull

Joanne Morcom

you came back
little swallow
look
I am here
too

Huguette Ducharme

long line
at the coffee shop—
the perfect place
not to meet
anyone at all

Robert Piotrowski

wet
yellow leaves
grey sky
the drip drip
of time passing

munira judith avinger

little by little
my yoga poses
improving—
little by little
I get to know him

Kozue Uzawa

listening to
the Missa Solemnis,
I try to imagine
Beethoven’s
orphic silence

Mary Kendall

haiku weekend
silk jammies
channeling
the narrow road
to the interior

Tom Lyon Freeland

only had
one dream about
my father—
he walked
right past me

Stanford M. Forrester

The image at the top of the post is a detail from the cover of a novel about Murasaki, early Japanese novelist and tanka poet, by Lisa Dalby.

Thousand Leaves, Karuta Haiku Canada

Thousand Leaves, Karuta Haiku Canada, a card game based on the traditional Japanese Karuta tanka game, that I put together in 2006. (Photo: the start of a poem by Marianne Bluger, and the ending of a poem by someone else…)thousand leaves 1

Karuta is simply the Japanese word for ‘cards’, and there are many karuta games, especially for children, that are meant to teach letters, memory, listening skills and reflexes.

Today, the competitive literary form of karuta, Ogura Hyukunin Isshu, based on one hundred famous poems, is played by a wide range of people in Japan. Although the game itself is simple, playing at a competitive level requires a high-level of skills such as agility and memory. It is recognized as a kind of sport in Japan.karuta cards

Tradition means that the same poems are always used: Good karuta players memorize all 100 tanka poems and the layout of the cards at the start of the match. Non-memorizers have to depend on luck to figure out whether they can find the correct poem-ending card.karuta cards 2

A player says the first line of a tanka and the first person to match the rest of the poem wins that card. Since many of the poems start with the same sound, though you may have responded most quickly, you may answer with the wrong poem. For example, there are 3 cards starting with Chi which are “Chihayafuru”, “Chigirikina” and “Chigiriokishi”, so a player must react as soon as he/she hears the beginning decisive part of the poem. Sort of like pushing the bell quickly or too quickly in Jeopardy.

There are other versions in Japan, including one in which players leap from card to card on a giant floor mat, something like our Twister. I have an English version of a karuta game based on the Tale of Genji, the first novel ever, written by the noblewoman and lady-in-waiting in the Heian court, but this is not the traditional game.

thousand leaves boxThe one I came up with usually has a photo of a Haiku Canada poet, (but sometimes just the name) with the first line of one of their poems, haiku or tanka. The other ‘half’ card has the rest of the poem. It’s up to us to make the rules. Simple matching, calling out or even adding points for making new poems.

We can play traditionally, laying out the non-picture cards so that they can all be seen, trying to memorize where they are.

But since we do not have a canon of famous poems yet in Canada, we can match as best we can, until the poems are checked against a master sheet.thousand leaves master  In the version played with my cards in Plattsburgh, we gave points for the correct poems when created, but also points when a new good poem was created.  George Swede won a spiffy hat, as I remember it.

For your first game of Haiku Canada Karuta, try to match these eight poets’ first lines with their endings… (answers at the end of the post)

game sample

ah those first warm nights/ full of bawling cats/ and lilac

underground parking/ no space/ for the moon

from all directions/ these flickering sparks of light/ evening fireflies

in its absence/ I dream/ a new moon

evening rain ―/ I braid my hair/ into the dark

ducking for cover/ we dry off by posters/ of people in the sun

the moon’s eclipse/ on the front lawn/ strangers become friends

motel stillness ― / the bed/ out of quarters

I think I’ve made this too easy… but you get the idea of Karuta. One time we played this, it was in a room of about thirty poets. I simply distributed all the hundred poem parts, and we all ran around switching, matching and trading pieces.  You’d never have thought this was a group of poets who are very passionate about Japanese-form poetry.

Perhaps that is a defining description of such poets: they take poetry, not themselves, seriously.