Love Month

This year's "Love Month" is about to begin at twigs&stones: both serious and not-so-serious tanka, most of them from the anthology Fire Pearls 2. 

The pictured plate is part of a set my kind husband bought (from Williams-Sonoma) sometime before we were married—supposedly for himself, hmm, yes, sure...!

P.S. Maybe you have a few "love" tanka or other small "love" poems you'd care to share, or poetic responses to mine? If so, please add them to a comments page (and, if you like, I also can formally post them later).

I meander

I meander

through tall pines,

before morning

find myself in a forest

of green flannel sheets

—Modern English Tanka, Spring 2007

Collaborative tanka sequence: a swatch of gauze

Writing responsive or other collaborative sequences appears to be quite popular for many tankaists these days. Here's one I wrote with poet Jenny Ward Angyal (also see the previous post). In my several years as a tanka poet, I'd never collaborated in sequence form before; neither had Jenny. It was a fascinating experience, and I was honored to have such a good partner. Hope you enjoy the little journey we took as we responded to each other's words. Was the journey imaginary or "real"?

P.S. We decided to post this sequence on our respective blogs at around the same time.

a swatch of gauze

the clear wings

of a dragonfly

on my hand

a treasure map

of copper veins

poking 

into the hollow

of an oak

I search for pennies

stashed away by an elf 

hidden

among apple blossoms,

a gray tree frog—

I follow the trill

of another world

visions

of a watercolor

mountainside ...

how to get there

when I have no brush?

quilting

the blue ridge

in light and shadow

I slip through the eye

of my own needle

left right

north south east west—

a feather

on a course of zigzags

becomes my compass 

a sparrow

missing one eye

alights on my knee ...

the distant music

of a blind harper

rendered mute

by a waterfall—

in a grotto

of lava and fern

I speak in poems 

a scallop shell

bound in a bale 

of mulch—

my inland journey

to the sea

at home

among pine needles 

a strand

of golden thread

to bind my seams

—Jenny Ward Angyal and Janet Lynn Davis

Skylark, Winter 2013

Guest Poet: an eggplant (plus travel photos)

An eggplant isn't the guest poet, but Jenny Ward Angyal is. I consider Jenny to be one of the most gifted and appealing writers of English-language tanka today. Her keen, unique perception and special bond with nature flavor her poems. I have many favorites. Here's but one from her ever-growing collection. It's an ekphrastic tanka (inspired by a piece of art; see her links below): 

an eggplant

squats on the counter

fecund and faceless

as the Venus of Willendorf –

my knife in midair

—Atlas Poetica Special Feature: Ekphrastic Tanka, Nov. 2012
Who is the Venus of Willendorf ?

I was excited to learn we'd be passing by the wee town of Willendorf on our river cruise this past November. The program director even announced the town on the loudspeaker—and mentioned the ancient little Venus figurine that made it famous. We managed to shoot a photo or two:

A scene in Willendorf, Austria

I also was excited when I noticed this shop window in tiny, medieval Durnstein, a short ways down the Danube (wish I had one of those Venus of Durnstein figurines!):

Notice how the colors coordinate with the colors
used in local architecture?

Many thanks, Jenny. Please peruse her blog, The Grass Minstrel, sometime. Also be sure to check out the above two links associated with her Venus tanka. 

Strolling through

strolling through
the holiday market
each year
the array of delights
delighting us less

—A Hundred Gourds, December 2013

With this tanka, I'm stretching out the holidays a bit! (AHG asks that you wait at least 40 days after they've published your work before you share it again with the world.) I can find it hard to let go of Christmas anyway; my tree and other stuff often are up well into January. 

Morning walk

morning walk—
I dismiss the pinched nerve
in my hip,
resolve to make peace
with the thorns in my side

—A Hundred Gourds, 2:3, June 2013