Beneath

When you unearth Atlantis

there
you will find me
my backroads
my passion
flung among the rubble.

You will find me
as embers
eros of energy
heaving through debris
like mountains
ascending from the ocean.

All you see now:

my lazuline eyes
and droplets of magma
glowing, creeping from their corners.

It is what you search for
this crusted chaos
is it not
(as souls seek out nests)?

But beware:
if you retrieve me
you must not keep me;
I could ignite

and so might you.

—Ancient Heart, 2006

photo (of a puddle) copyright of Robert Curtis

Sharing with Poets United, Sept. 1

Perhaps this poem is fitting given the scorched conditions we've had here, in our tiny dot on the map in southeast Texas, during the past month or two. 

Hotel room

hotel room—

wind through the palm trees

muffles his snores

—Presence, #48, June 2013

Back home ... and a thank you

I'm back home from Tanka Sunday in Long Beach, California, followed by a whirlwind personal vacation trip up the coast. The Tanka Society of America (TSA) held its gathering, only the second in the organization's history, on The Queen Mary immediately after the Haiku North America conference. It was a relatively small group, and the time was short, but the experience was exhilarating all the same: discussion, various tanka readings, and an informative talk by Stephen D. Carter of Stanford University. We also spent a bit of time writing new tanka. I'm glad to finally have met some fellow tanka writers (and editors) in person. Many thanks to all involved in organizing this event. 

Near the end of Tanka Sunday, TSA president Margaret Chula announced the winners of the annual international contest; the TSA website will be updated soon to include the information. Deserving poems for sure!












On an altogether different note: A special thank you to Ellen Roberts Young at freethoughtandmetaphor for her recent blog post devoted to tanka—and also for kindly presenting three of my poems I'd previously posted here. I hope she continues her newly embarked-upon tanka journey! 

Symptoms

symptoms
hopscotch through my body—
I wasn't warned
my lighthearted days
were impermanent as chalk

—Ribbons ("back cover"), Spring/Summer 2013

A nice surprise—the editor selecting my poem for the back cover of the Tanka Society of America's journal, Ribbons.

I recall happy summer days of hopscotching on sidewalks with my friend Karen.

Reading tanka

reading tanka
and yet more tanka
about cherry blossoms
how I crave 
the top of a sundae

—red lights, Vol. 2, No. 2, June 2006
Note: Removed all the punctuation from the earlier version. Am happier now. ;)

It's been years, maybe decades, since I've had a real sundae.

Our honeymoon; I tell him; an e-card

our honeymoon
spent choosing furniture
for our new home,
hopeful roots sprouting
from solid-wood legs

—Fire Pearls 2 (anthology), 2013

I tell him
it's his anniversary
he tells me
it's mine too—the comfort
in our seeming nonchalance

—bottle rockets 18, 2008; Take Five, Vol. 1, 2009

an e-card 
sent from his corner 
of the house 
our anniversary 
hiding in my spam 

—red lights, Vol. 9, No. 1, January 2013

Anyone who watches the Bachelor/Bachelorette on TV with his spouse should be given a medal. Yes, it's true.

iwritemyself: guest blog

Today please follow me on a visit to another poetry blog: iwritemyself, by Maurine Killough. Her blog is like a colorful, hip museum/gallery or boutique: bold original poems plus an eclectic mixture of poetry by guests (I was honored to be included there a while back), all accompanied by lively artwork.

Hope you enjoy it!