Went for a good old haiku for this weeks tankatuesday.
I button my coat
Windy winter weather blows
Snowy meadow walk
I wish! I usually enjoy the differences in the seasons, but I am not fond of the grey, cold, windy winter we are having. I have always felt if it is going to be cold there may as well be snow!
The mission this week on TankaTuesday.com is to use 3 kigo words and write three Abhanga, with the syllable count 6-6-6-4.
Sunrise walks with my dog
Are from last week, or the
Weeks ahead. Now I sleep
in: Vacation!
Snow swirls, frost whirls, fire smoke
Twists in winter spirals.
A phrase that sounds like the
Grey days and thoughts.
Picture friends enjoying
Boxing Day in countries
That use "ou" for their
Labour, favours.
Happy New Year for those who celebrate 🙂
The #tankatuesday challenge this week is to write 3 Kimo poems, which have 10/7/6 syllables. Kimo is an Israeli version of the Haiku. The Kigo phrases we were tasked to use are “buying a new calendar”, “winter desolation”, and “trimming the Christmas tree”.
Buying a new calendar wondering
If measuring time causes
Me to lose sight of life.
Frostscapes, snowscapes, beaten down winter paths.
My winter playground, someone's
Winter desolation
Kicking the doorjamb knocks snow off my boots
I bring holly branches for
Trimming the Christmas tree
This poem shows a couple of my thought processes/ philosophies. I do often wonder how measured time puts artificial boundaries on my life. It is hard to shake the conditioning of the hours, days, weeks, months and years. Especially since I work at a school, with the Pavlovian bells ringing each period. I have no idea how to escape this cycle, but I do wonder about the impact of it.
When I saw “Winter desolation” I immediately knew I would flip that on its head. I love winter, especially snowy ones. I enjoy skiing and snowshoeing, but honestly winter hikes are all I need. Me and Anna the dog on the trails, crisp air and unlimited vistas.
Here is a link to my new poetry book, Self of Steam
The cover of my poetry book Self of Steam is a picture I took at Great Pond State Forest. The pond was iced over, and the reflection of the forest was ghostly. I thought the picture evoked the title of the book, and the spirit of the poem that it is named after.
Click the cover to purchase my book from Amazon.
I call the tall tree in the upper center of the picture “Great Tree”. I came up with this name to reflect its location by Great Pond, but also because I believe it is the tallest tree in the forest. I like to stand underneath it, appreciating its thick bole and impressive height.
Anna and I went to see our friends today. The above video gives a sense of how towering Great Tree is.
This is Brain Rock. Another of my friends in the woods. I like to stop and visit with both of them. They remind me to slow down, clear my thoughts, and appreciate what is around me.
Tankatuesday.com is really helping me embrace winter imagery, along with the challenge of writing unfamiliar forms of poetry. And the counting syllables on the fingers. Multiple times, making sure. This time it’s 57577 – and you gotta give me “covers” as two syllables while “warmth” is just one.
Winter cloud covers
The thin warmth of the low sun
Light in the darkness
Clouds open and the frost shines
Holly branches sparkling
The third line is the pivot, meaning it should shift the movement of the poem in a different direction, but still relate to the first two lines. This invited the contrast between winter’s hard to love side with its great and sudden beauty.
My new poetry book Self of Steam is available now! I hope you will check it out.
This is the beginning of my poem “Great Pond”. I visit Great Pond State Park frequently, as it is a five minute drive from my house. So when Anna and I took a rain hike there today, I felt like I should post from the poem I wrote about an epic hike we took there one time.
Great Pond
I am dressed for a hike
In the sunlight.
My gear is made for a crisp
November 52 degrees.
Long sleeve dry weave,
Solid hiking pants.
5 minutes in it’s raining.
Sure the shirt is wicking water,
But it’s not made for the heavy stuff.
And 52 in the rain is different,
Than 52 in the sun.
The rain stops.
I step along and look up.
Contrasting cloud greys:
Dense scudders looming dark
Against
The eggshell white background.
5 minutes later
More rain, heavy at times.
I laugh as the dog and I
Are getting soaked.
I laugh because I believe we should laugh
Humans should laugh
When we’re getting soaked,
Especially if it’s
On a relatively warm day
And a car not far away.
Even if it’s 2020.
Especially if it’s 2020
5 minutes later it’s hail:
Small pellets,
Hat bill clickers,
Rock tickers,
Ricocheting off trees onto me.
Not big enough to hurt the dog.
Again I grin,
A little more fiercely,
Since unannounced winter is here.
Want more? The adventure continues in my book Self of Steam available from Amazon!
This week’s challenge for #Tankatuesday is to create a dodoitsu. The syllabic scheme is 7-7-7-5, and we have to use these “kigo phrases”:
Boots crunching the frosted grass As I turn my face away So only one side is cold Chilly north winds blow I wipe the crumbling leaves Off of the neatly stacked wood Barely visible in the Early winter dusk Left arm lifts wood to my right Cradling against my chest Holding the future fire Warmth around the hearth
If you like my poetry, I hope you’ll check out my book Self of Steam. <<that’s the link to the book 🙂
This is from a poem called “The Spark”. I wrote it about an event in Hartford called “Other People’s Poetry”. Held outdoors at the host’s house, I imagined a young woman sitting in her apartment window next door and being inspired by the poems she heard.
You lean in closer, tilt your head, So your ear is nearly pressed to the screen Like an elderly woman Leaning into her iPhone. Still, you only hear shards of words. “The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame.” They rear in front of you, these eyes, So monstrous that they are alight with fire. They will be with you for days Lighting your way with wild rage. More snapping. A woman sits, A man rises to the microphone. He reads: “There will be time, there will be time To prepare a face to meet the faces that you meet; There will be time to murder and create.” Murder AND create? How can they be in the same line?
I’d love it if you bought a copy! Here’s the link to purchase it from Amazon!
For this weeks #tankatuesday, I reflected on a flurry that was spinning in the air as I took Anna out for our little walk before bed. I love these small hints of winter, and snow’s crystal nature and dancing ways always fascinate me.
I don’t know about you, but I would take snow over cold rain any day.
The brief snowflakes swirl In a dance of becoming That changes to rain
If you like my poems, I hope you’ll check out my new book Self of Steam. Many of the poems, such as the title verse, are based on mistakes my students made in their writing that suggested poetic images to me. I would love for you to give it a try.
This week’s challenge asked us to write three tanka and use these “kigo phrases” at the beginning or middle-hinge line:
#1: “the first month with sleet”
#2: “late winter garden”
#3: “blanket by the fire”
Here is mine!
The first month with sleet Hike leaning into the wind Beard reducing sting A mask from the intense cold My head bows to Nature's strength The seeds we have not planted No growth drinks the waning sun Late winter garden A product of fantasy No farms no food then no feast Wind opens the door Icicle beard melts in warmth A blanket by the fire Wine glasses reflecting flames My warmth is doubled by her
Be the first to buy my new poetry book Self of Steam
Mark Bozeman 