hidden from full view
stars on a cloudy night
still hurtling, burning and
singing their tunes—
unseen, I sing along
This tanka was published in Ribbons, Spring/Summer 2026: Volume 22, Number 1
Photo by Mary Kendall London Night Sky
.
A tanka published in
Gusts No. 40, Contemporary Tanka, Canada,
fall/winter 2024
sea birds
ride the thermals
beyond steep chalk cliffs—
I wonder what they hear
in the swirling wind
shape-shifting
in my dream, I leap
and run with graceful gazelles
able now to outpace
all that awaits
.
.
A tanka published in
Gusts No. 40, Contemporary Tanka, Canada,
Fall/winter 2024
Image by xi Serge from Pixabay
The lovely New Zealand journal, Kokaku, published two haiku and two tanka in their fall issue: Kokaku #37, 2022.
Kokaku #37, 2022
evening web –
the last plum blossom
caught fast
***
corner flower shop –
if only our lives were
arranged so well
***
quick twists and turns
of rutting deer ~
another season passes
adrift in colours
of passion and promise
***
This tanka appeared on my blog last month but was from this issue (37):
a tiny fawn dead
by the side of the road –
I close my eyes & imagine
all those children lost
in Ukraine strikes
***
Published in Kokaku, Summer/Fall 2022
~
a tiny fawn dead
by the side of the road –
I close my eyes & imagine
all those children lost
in Ukraine strikes
~
Image by meineresterampe from Pixabay
~
having made it
halfway across, halfway back
I stop and pause
wondering which way
I really want to go
~
Published in Eucalypt 32 Tanka, May 2022 Issue
~
Tight-Rope Walker by Jean Louis Forain, c. 1885, Art Institute of Chicago
This tanka was inspired by a painting of a tightrope walker:
Tight Rope Walker by Jean Louis Forain, The Art Institute of Chicago
~
This is the first of two tanka published in:
so many bodies in Bucha,
even more mass graves
are dug and quickly filled
. . . no mourners, no prayers
at the gravesite today
Presence #72, Spring 2022
.
winter birds crack seeds
& feast on blocks of suet –
my long morning is spent
polishing old pieces
of silver we rarely use
.
.
Photo by Stauffers of Kissel Hill
Moonbathing 26, Summer 2022
one by one trying
hard to make amends,
I separate fine strands
of webs I’ve made
to hide my mistakes
‘silk’
Published in Ribbons, TSA, Summer 2022
your Panama hat
blows off
into the Grand Canal –
if only our decisions
could be so free
with healing hands
placed over my heart,
I hear its whispering
voice between beats—
forgive, forgive, forgive
~~~
.
.
Kokako #36, Spring 2022
.
It’s always a joy to have the New Zealand poetry journal, Kokako, publish some of my poetry. For their spring issue, they chose a one-line haiku and two tanka. I hope you enjoy them.
.
.
seabirds drift on thermals—night becomes day
.
.
~~~
cassia, lady slippers,
dutchman’s breeches, rue –
my garden becomes
the one circle of friends
I find it hard to leave
.
~~~
.
dark morning
filled with wild winds
that blow the birds awake
& by the crows’ swift,
and sharp reply
The third (and last) tanka published in the latest issue of Gusts:
does inner life
start or end in the heart
I heard it for the first time
in a deep red canyon,
that distant river of me
GUSTS no. 35, Contemporary Tanka,
Spring/Summer 2022 Tanka Canada
Universe by Gerd Altmann
A second tanka published in the spring/summer issue of Gusts:
imagination . . .
the only place it’s always
safe to go and wander,
just the songs of stars
and sweep of ice-drifts
~
GUSTS no. 35, Contemporary Tanka,
Spring/Summer 2022 (Tanka Canada)
Like so many other people, the year and a half pandemic has thrown my sense of time way off. I’m so far behind in posting newly published poems on this blog that I find myself now playing catch up. I am both honored and happy to have had such fine journals select some of my work to publish in 2021.
both of us relieved
we made it to this side
of the pandemic –
falling back in love
with spring’s soft greening
Published in Ribbons, Tanka Café, Spring 2021
Three poems (two haiku and one tanka) were published in the winter issue of Kokako, 2021. I have a real fondness for this journal because I love all things Kiwi. New Zealand is a beautiful country with such great people. They have a very active poetry community, and Kokako is a beautiful journal to be part of.
1.
snow drifts ~
the wild wind’s
last brief fling
2.
woodland colours
now grow pale
winter light
3.
arranging zinnias
in an old milk jug,
this pandemic silence
urges me to notice
the simplest things
Note: Photo of Zinnias (c) 2021 by Park Seeds
Tanka Café @ Ribbons
Winter 2021: Volume 17, Number 1
it isn’t a matter
of distance for me –
I learned by age five
how to slip deep inside
that passing cloud
.
Tanka poets are always proud to have something published in Ribbons, the journal of the Tanka Society America. It is one of the finest journals out there and it’s devoted to tanka and tanka-related work. Besides the main part of Ribbons, each issue has the Tanka Café, edited by Michael McLintock. Michael is an outstanding poet and was the editor of Ribbons for a long time. For many years he has focused on the Tanka Café, a favorite place for many of us. He puts out a prompt for each issue and poets write to that prompt. He gives us great leeway in how we interpret the prompt. This issue had the theme: Escapes. A great prompt indeed! The poems selected were wonderfully varied and always great to read. I interpreted the theme in my own way of course. It has to do with imagination and how early we can learn to escape to it when we need to get away from things in our real life. My thanks to Michael McLintock for selecting this tanka.
a gathering basket
filled with rosehips & hazels –
why is it so hard
to put back all the bits
and pieces you left behind?
Published in GUSTS: Contemporary Tanka 33 (Tanka Canada)
.
rough edges worn down
on well-trodden paths,
each cobblestone
a reminder of how far
we’ve travelled
.
.
Published in Eucalypt 29, Winter 2020
Redlights, Volume 17, No. 1, January 2021
Photography by Autumn Mott Rodeheaver
whirlwinds of scarlet
and ochre leaves
flit across the square –
days of self-isolation spent
learning to slow down
Redlights, Volume 17, No. 1, January 2021
a red-bellied woodpecker
flaunts his drumming skills—
below his tree I pause
to feel his thunder,
to hear his words
Ribbons 16:3 (fall 2020)
ghosting myself
by looking away . . .
the mirror
no longer a friend
I care to see
(c) Mary Kendall, 2020
Note: This pretty hand mirror was crafted in Germany and sold on Etsy.com.
So careful a gardener, he patiently weeds between the pebbles.
This tanka is dedicated to my dear husband, Ritchie Kendall.
each day you kneel
and work in the garden
I can think of nothing
more prayer-like
than this
Published in the Tanka Society of America Members’ 2020 Anthology.
.
the chiming clock
begins to wind down . . .
five months of quarantine
yet still the roses bloom
and red birds sing
.
This tanka was published in October, but obviously was written in early summer. We are now nine months into this pandemic. Writing is a wonderful relief as we isolate ourselves. Like so many poets, I find my writing has been changed by the pandemic.
cattails:
The Official Journal of the United Haiku and Tanka Society, October 2020 issue
Here is the third of my three tanka published in the latest issue of Gusts no. 32, Fall/Winter 2020:
even the crows
are quiet now . . .
the sudden silence
that morning snow
brings
Here’s the second tanka published in
Gusts no. 32, Fall/Winter 2020
pale pink petals
scattered on the desk
one by one the days
of isolation pass,
each fading to nothing
Three tanka published in the winter edition of Gusts, Contemporary Tanka, the journal of Tanka Canada. It’s always a huge thrill to be included in this special journal of tanka. I’ll offer them one at a time.
Gusts no. 32, Fall/Winter 2020
lapis lazuli, delft blue
and French ultramarine . . .
the blueness of blue
in these tired veins
just won’t let go
Today I realized I’d forgotten to post a number of poems published this year (2020), so here they are. I hope you enjoy reading them.
Ribbons 16:2 (spring 2020)
.
icebergs drift and melt
and furious fires rage
will this earth dissolve
into rivulets
of decisions poorly made?
~
Frameless Sky, Issue 12, 2020
soft ripe plums
sitting on the sideboard ~
wouldn’t it lovely
to know you’re
so desiredPresence 66
.
tiny fledglings
with wings outstretched
take that first leap—
how old were we
when doubt began~
wind spilling
from copper rain bells
unbroken drought.
~
impossible
to count them
fireflies
I am delighted to have one tanka and two haiku in the latest issue of Presence:
Presence, Issue 67, July 2020
bitter wind
the maple’s heart
still frozen
~
once so innocent
we had to make up sins
. . . first confession
~
I tried to bury
those memories
for so long…
the raw scent
of freshly plowed earth
The second of two tanka appearing Eucalypt: A Tanka Journal,
Issue 28, 2020
sea glass in cerulean,
aqua and seafoam green
wash up in the morning tide,
mysteries I gently place
in this pail of dreams
Moonbathing 22, Spring 2020
a faint train whistle
passing by at 3 a.m.
. . . the only normal thing
in these pandemic nights
that makes any sense
Milkweed by James DeMers (pixabay.com)
These tanka were written during the quarantine of Covid-19. My thanks to editor/poet, Marilyn Hazelton, for persuading me to combine some tanka into a tanka sequence. A really good editor is priceless. It’s always an honor to have poems included in Redlights. Click on the link below if you care to hear me read it.
Half-light
August morning
just before the katydids
begin to sing . . .
the lake finally calm
with no ripples
milkweed seeds
scatter straight from
the cottony pod ~
such freedom to go
anywhere, everywhere
a spoon slowly stirs
cream into coffee
those quiet moments
when we lose
all sense of now
arm in arm
we walk together –
forty years & more miles
than either of us
can count
half-light—
walking in fog
where nothing is seen
but somehow we trust
it’s still all there
Red Lights, Summer Issue 2020
the slow hiss
and sudden pop
of a pinecone in fire—
admitting the mistake
is a first step
*
had you lived
we’d almost be twins,
two sisters
so close in time
we nearly touched
*
this urge
to turn and walk away
chokecherry
Mary Kendall (c) 2020
Kokako 32, 2020, a journal of the New Zealand Poetry Society
My thanks to the editors of Kokako for publishing all three poems.
This tanka was published in Hedgerow, a journal of small poems ~ #130, Winter 2020
we turn away
from all we just can’t face—
the glistening red
of a vulture’s head
emerges from a carcass
Poet’s note:
Out of decay comes art and beauty. Look what artist Georgia O’Keefe created from a skull found where she lived in New Mexico. All is part of nature and is nature.
Deer’s Skull with Pedernal by Georgia O’Keefe (c) 1936
Where I live in central North Carolina, we have plenty of black vultures and turkey vultures. They circle and gather in the sky when there is carrion to be had. I chose this topic for the tanka because it’s a scene I’ve seen more than once. Yes, it’s not a pretty sight. Vultures, especially when eating a dead animal or gathering in a group in a tree or abandoned house do give you shivers. Something in us seems to respond with at least a momentary revulsion. However, I’m a bird lover and I try to see how a specific species fits into the scheme of things. Vultures and crows do eat carrion, the flesh of dead animals, often of roadkill along our roads and streets. They perform a good service by eating their meal and cleaning the mess up. Imagine all those dead animals left to rot. So these birds help us as they go about their business (albeit unpleasant business to us). They are birds we should appreciate for their useful role in nature. They also offer us a wonderful metaphor.
My thanks to editor, Caroline Skanne for being the one editor who chose to publish this poem.
Prune Juice, Journal of Senryu, Kyoka, Haibun & Haiga
Issue #30, March 2020
both parents
dead at sixty one –
imagine my surprise
the day I turned
sixty-two
Redlights, Volume 16, No. 1, January 2020
a gradual loss
of peripheral vision
leaves it all unclear
why is it that the brain
still searches for the edge
~
underlined passages
in a library book –
I idle away an hour
puzzling why a reader
chose those words
Published in Gusts 31 (Spring/Summer 2020), Tanka Canada
Three tanka written and read by Mary Kendall (click on link):
how do I tell you
about the darkness
that embraces me,
uninvited
unwanted
~
a loose shutter
flaps in the storm ~
times when it’s so easy
to lose names, numbers
and where to go
~
the morning spent
ripping out
wild honeysuckle vines . . .
no matter how hard I try
you turn a deaf ear
A Thousand Voices,
2019 Tanka Society of America Member’s Anthology
sweet peas,
crab apple blossoms
and old roses—
for part of each day
I become my mother
What a nice surprise to find one of my tanka included in this beautiful exhibition at the Bristol Museum & Art Gallery in the UK.
“In autumn 2019, poets from around the world responded to a call for haiku, a form of short Japanese poetry, based on Japanese prints in the collection at Bristol Museum & Art Gallery. People sent in more than 800 beautiful, thought-provoking poems from thirty countries worldwide. See the selection below.
Many poems were inspired by woodblock prints in our popular 2018-2019 exhibition series, Masters of Japanese Prints.
The project was arranged by haiku poets Alan Summers and Karen Hoy of creative writing consultancy Call of the Page.” (Quoted from the Bristol Museum & Art Gallery website)
Bristol Museum & Art Gallery, Bristol, UK
winter woodland
bereft of birdsong
with your passing
even clear days
are shadowed
My thanks to Alan Summers and Karen Hoy who oversaw this project. Over 800 poems were submitted. Congratulations to all who were chosen to be part of this exhibition.
Link to the exhibition: https://exhibitions.bristolmuseums.org.uk/japanese-prints/haikus/
Note: You have to click on all the small pictures in order to open many of the prints and poems. Read them all and enjoy!
it took sixty years
to find the voice I’d lost–
that day
blue dragonflies
alighted at water’s edge
Moonbathing, a Journal of Women’s Tanka, Fall/Winter 2019.
Edited by Pamela A. Babusci
Two tanka were published in
Eucalypt Issue 27, 2019
miscarriage—
the very word
betrays
the promise
of hope
persimmon sun
dips low and sets –
moonlight on the bed
where I was born
& where my father died
Dove photo by Merlune
One haiku and one tanka were published in Presence, Issue #65, 2019
cat’s tongue
the shallow rasp
of a scar
* * *
tree bark
kissed by wind—
out of the blue
a memory of you
appears
Blithe Spirit 29:4, 2019 (two tanka)
the familiar scent
of lemon oil rubbed
on old wood –
a new cat finds a place
in your empty chair
* * *
on the ground
a nest of hatchlings
fallen from a tree –
how well you always
hid your pain
Three tanka were published in the last issue of
Gusts, Contemporary Tanka No. 30, Fall/Winter 2019
as Geminids flit by
in the inky darkness
I pull your jacket tight
around myself
. . . all I have left
∼ ∼ ∼
ripeness
bears its own burden . . .
fragrant peaches
dangle low
bruises a breath away
∼ ∼ ∼
in old growth grass
a newborn fawn
wobbles on spindly legs –
a sure reminder
how brief a season is
KOKAKO 31 , 2019, a journal of the New Zealand Poetry Society
first apricots
the baby’s soft breath
in my ear
~
moonflower
night after night
that same dream
~
barely a whisper
between daylight
and nightfall
when shadows
hide in darkness
Over the past few months, a lot of my work has been published, but I’ve been negligent in getting them posted. Breaking from my usual tradition of a separate post for each journal, I’m going to post all of them here in a single posting. Separate poems and journals are both divided by ***.
Redlights, Volume 15, No. 2, June 2019
.
a day will come
when we are the faces
in old picture albums
and no one left
to give us names
***
babcia’s borscht recipe
in faded black ink—
can you smell the beets
bubble and hear her
hum along
Ribbons Spring/Summer 2019: Volume 15, No. 2
.
PET scan . . .
all the dogs & cats
I ever knew & loved
romp in the tunnel
where I lie in stillness
***
Ribbons Spring/Summer 2019: Volume 15, No. 2
Tanka Café: Theme: What Matters [to You]
they say time
moves faster as we age
yet here I am
stealing an hour
to listen to the birds
***
cattails: The Official Journal of the United Haiku and Tanka Society, April 2019 Issue
.
late winter
the garden’s breath
shifts once more
***
one crow
and a clutch of chickadees
at the birdfeeder —
that simple need
to fit in someplace
***
Frogpond 42.2 * 2019
.
graveside—
white blossoms
lighten the darkness
***
Blithe Spirit 29.2, 2019
.
evening meditation
fireflies flit here
& there
& there
***
.
sacred sites
finding myself praying
in another language
.
***
.
the soft rustle
of quivering aspen leaves
over and over
I replay the words
I might have said
.
***
.
a feeling of you
standing behind me …
when I turn around,
only shadow
only silence
.
***
.
Moonbathing 20 Spring/Summer 2019
.
sea glass
a distant story
told in waves
I long
to read
.
***
.
The Heron’s Nest, Volume XXI, Number 2: June 2019
.
a single brass button—
I try to remember
his voice
***
.
Eucalypt Issue 26, 2019
.
without warning
a leaf rises in the wind
then tumbles—
our need for forgiveness
so unexpected, too
.
(Eucalypt, The Distinctive Scribblings Awards)
***
.
Gusts, Contemporary Tanka No. 29, Spring/Summer 2019
.
faint notes
of a harpsichord
playing Bach –
why is it you always wait
for one wrong note
***
you pour a second cup
of pale moon tea
in a teashop in Prague
. . . I wonder what story
the leaves might tell
***
walking alone
past the tide’s own
push and pull –
I turn to see my footprints
wash away
***
Kokako 30, 2019
.
abbey ruins
voices of evensong
nowhere everywhere
***
old burying ground
so many grave markers
buried too
***
in the coffee shop
a glimpse of someone
who looks just like you—
I quickly check my face
in a mirror
***
dark storm clouds
dissolve in sunlight
and shift again—
your changing moods
just as quick
***
Two haiku and one tanka in Blithe Spirit 29.1, 2019
*
ground fog
even birdsong
is invisible
*
wood’s edge –
that inescapable pull
of darkness
*
starlight on
winter branches—
those nagging thoughts
that seem to come
from nowhere
All poems by Mary Kendall
Red Lights, Volume 15, No. 1, January 2019:
Both tanka by Mary Kendall
Presence Issue #62, 2018
scraping ice ferns
off the windows
of our old jalopy –
such fragile beauty
soon pushed aside
Photo by eddy on ‘Unsplash’
Tanka Society of America 2018 Members’ Anthology:
Of Love and War and the Life In Between
almost toothless
the old dog sleeps
by the fire . . .
the peace of knowing
you are there
This poem is dedicated to all beloved, faithful dogs for the pure joy they bring.
Skylark, Tanka Journal 12,
Winter 2018 (6:2)
black feathers
scattered
under a bush—
the unspoken truth
gone forever
~
in an old book
a letter, ‘address unknown’
a million miles away
a new star is born,
another dies
Moonbathing, A Journal of Women’s Tanka,
Issue 19, Fall/Winter 2018
indigo ink
on vellum paper—
all those dreams
of making a different life
for myself
Blithe Spirit, Journal of the British Haiku Society,
Volume 28 Number 4, November 2018
Three tanka were published in Blithe Spirit this past November:
Snow Landscape by Hans Braxmeier
winter woodland
bereft of birdsong
with your passing
even clear days
are shadowed
Photo by Frantisek Krejci
together so long
we seem to finish
one another’s sentences,
fluent in the pauses
of each other’s mind
Universe by Gerd Altmann
loneliness
comes and goes,
dancing around
my mind
with two left feet
This tanka is dedicated it to all who have dealt with the trauma
of childhood sexual abuse.
he believed
himself omnipotent…
the innocence
of so many children
dissolved in a moment
Photograph by Circe Denyer
Eucalypt: A Tanka Journal,
Issue 25, 2018
It’s a great honor to have had this tanka published in Eucalypt. My thanks to editor, Julie Anne Thorndyke for selecting this particular poem.
.
1.
how many times
can a stone skip
before sinking . . .
deep in my breast
a small lump appears
Unsplash by Linus Nylund
2.
no second guessing a kingfisher’s straight dive
Kingfisher and Irises by-Ohara Koson, The Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam, Holland.
3.
leaves turning –
an old friendship
ends
Golden Tree by Mary Kendall
ephemerae,
an international of haikai, tanka & beyond
Volume 1, C: November 2018
My thanks to Shrikaanth Krishnamurthy for publishing two of my haiku and one tanka in the November issue of ephemerae.
Ribbons, the Journal of the Tanka Society of America Fall 2018: Volume 14, Number 3
the long scar
down your chest
almost healed —
so hard to forget
you almost disappeared
Ribbons, the Journal of the Tanka Society of America
Fall 2018: Volume 14, Number 3
Well, somehow I missed this, a tanka published in Eucalypt, one of the finest tanka journals out there. Eucalypt is published in Australia, the home of a great number of brilliant tanka poets. It’s always a great feeling having a poem published in this journal.
My thanks to Julie Thorndike, the editor.
Eucalypt, Spring issue 2018:
how it begins
this love of beauty . . .
a little girl touches
each coloured heart
on grandma’s quilt
“Stacked Hearts” by Planted Seed Designs
One tanka published in:
cattails, October 2018 Issue
The Official Journal of the United Haiku and Tanka Society
told not to tell
or be a bother
a child soon finds
a world of her own
silence
In that silence, poems are born.
I urge all of you to read the full issue of cattails, which you can download as a pdf here: http://cattailsjournal.com/currentissue.html
Three tanka published in one my very favorite journals.
GUSTS No. 28, Contemporary Tanka
(fall/winter 2018)
pounding rains
& the peonies are lost –
how did I miss
your pallor, your reticence
that last day?
turning from pale gold
to dusky violet
our last embrace
so certain
so final
rain patter
on windows –
just when it seems
the darkness is over
it all begins again
My thanks to my friend, poet and editor, Shrikaanth Krishnamurthy for writing this tanka sequence, “Changing Notes,” with me. It was published in Kokako 29, a journal of the Poetry Society of New Zealand.
Changing Notes
A Responsive Tanka Sequence
by
Shrikaanth Krishnamurthy (UK) and Mary Kendall (USA)
glass bangles
tinkling with laughter
rice grains
strewn on the newlyweds
seeding a new dream
(SK)
such longing
month after month
turning to years
suddenly the emptiness
disappears
(MK)
the curve of his hand
cups the moon
quickening
the one butterfly
aflutter in my belly
(SK)
watching
the fragile pulse
of his fontanelle
and those half smiles
in his milky dreams
(MK)
rocking horse
hither and thither
the long curls
of sun-kissed memories
braided into birdsong
(SK)
one day his son will chatter
in a different tongue
raven locks
eased into smoothness
. . . a new chosen land
(MK)
Two haiku and one tanka in Kokako 29, 2018, a journal of the New Zealand Poetry Society:
where the house
once stood
only cherry blossoms
billowing fog
the burden of keeping
your secret
rosé bottle
the forgiving vagueness
of frosted glass
the morning
after
no attribution for this lovely picture I found online
Photo: aperture art blur/Pixabay
My thanks to my friend and fellow poet, Iliyana Stoyanova
for writing this tanka sequence with me.
Blithe Spirit, the Journal of the British Haiku Society, August 2018
ONE FRAME AT A TIME
A Tanka Sequence
by Mary Kendall (USA) and Iliyana Stoyanova (UK)
camera in hand
you tame the world
click by click …
living your life
one frame at a time
(MK)
the old album
asleep in dust
for all these years
the last two pages
stuck together
(IS)
so alike
everyone said
we could be twins
but then one day
a letter arrived
(MK)
through the open windows
spring wind…
by the ballerina box
my old ribbons tangled
like childhood memories
(IS)
in my hands now
a forty-year-old picture
of an unknown aunt
a tiny birthmark
same as my own
(MK)
Photo from Freeimages.com
Ephemerae,
July Issue 2018
how softly
the light shifts
from day to dusk,
the familiar comfort
of my hand in yours
all morning long
the praying mantis
clings to a window screen—
my fingers less nimble
with each passing year
Praying Mantis and the Moon by Watanabe Seitei
Thank you, Chen-ou, for selecting this poem for your blog.
Presence Issue 61 (2018) / three haiku and one tanka:
1.
a shadow blocks the light unwanted touch
2.
washed up –
this broken shell
once sang the sea
3.
far above
old cotton fields –
migrating swans
4.
thin curls of wood
fly away
from the lathe –
his memory slips
away bit by bit
failed haiku: A Journal of English Senryu, Volume 3, Issue 32
one haiku:
chopping carrots –
with each decisive cut
I think of you
and two pieces of tankart:
Haiku and Tankart are by Mary Kendall, (c) 2018
Redlights, June 2018:
a newborn fawn
hidden in tall grasses,
with breath so soft
not even a dandelion
stirs
Photograph by Carmen Sterba Russell (used with her permission) (c) 2018
Redlights, June 2018:
when you were six
I longed to keep you
that age forever
once upon a time
I knew you so well
Dedicated to my son, Adam.
.
Published in Ribbons, Spring/Summer 2018: Volume 14, Number 2
the squeak
of the old swing . . .
only four when carefully taught
to keep that secret
to myself
This tanka was published in the Tanka Café of Ribbons
the little girl’s doll
marred by lipstick
scrawled on her face
. . . maybe this time
mother will notice
Published: Failed Haiku, a Journal of English Senryu, Volume 3, Issue 31,
July 2018
Guest editors: Lori A. Minor and Chase Gagnon
Primary editor: Michael Rehling
Note: I’d like to thank my dear friend, Christine M. Kalke for her permission to use her beautiful photograph that was taken in Scandinavia during one of her visits. The digital art work was done by me.
Moonbathing, A Journal of Women’s Tanka, Issue 18, Spring/Summer 2018
blue-black mussels
torn from harbor rocks
fill the worn rusty pail –
there was no looking back
when I left you
Our Poetry Corner today touches on the theme “Our Precious Children”, with Ross Anthony, Linda Papanicolaou, Johannes S. H. Bjerg, Billy Howell-Sinnard, Giselle Maya, Lois P. Jones, Kathy Uyen Nyguen, Patty Hardin, Gillena Cox , Marlene Alexa, and Mary Kendall . Photos by Michael Czarnecki, Robert Johnston and Tom Clausen. The Poetry Corner is hosted by Kathabela Wilson.
Please follow this link to read the whole article and all the wonderful poems. My thanks to Kathabela Wilson for inviting me to contribute this tanka.
https://coloradoboulevard.net/poetry-corner-our-precious-children/
Note: This tanka was written in 2015, and, to my surprise, Kathabela Wilson remembered it. She invited me to share it for her lovely column on Precious Children. What a lovely honor.
(I later created a piece of Tankart using a much different version of this tanka. It is on my blog.)
Ephemerae, a new journal of hakai, Volume 1A, April 2018 has just been published in the U.K. I am honored to have two tanka included in this first edition. Edited by Shrikaanth K. Murthy, there are over 160 fine poets included from around the world.
returning again
to the faded notes
scribbled in margins
I search for traces
of who you really were
…
reflected
in a bookshop window
sun glinting behind
your image imposed
over mine
Both tanka (c) 2018 Mary Kendall
Skylark Tanka Journal 6:1, Summer 2018:
Two tanka
old walking stick—
once it was
a branch
that stretched
to the sky
. . .
all those years spent
twisted in shame –
cultivating old world roses
but still ignoring
the thorns
A beautiful walking stick made in the traditional manner.
Prune Juice, Journal of Senryu, Kyoka, Haibun & Haiga, Issue, 24, Spring 2018:
two senryu and one kyoka published
pulling a single
strand of silken thread …
her undoing
…
sipping skinny lattés
they march against
world hunger
…
a slight limp
on cold and rainy days
how easy it is
to fall out of step
with myself
Orb Weaver Web / Photo by Robert Potts/Getty Images
Gusts, no. 27, Contemporary Tanka (Canada)
spring/summer 2018
heart fluttering
and eyes closed tight –
it was as if you knew
the swallows had flown
away again
shipwreck spoils
wash back and forth
upon the tide –
notes from other lives
left in sea glass shards
Both tanka (c) 2018, Mary Kendall
Mary Kendall (USA) & Hazel Hall (Australia)
around the turn
we come across a patch
of wild strawberries
. . . a sudden longing
for something left behind MK
dividing
our harvest carefully
the taste
of over-ripened fruit
lingers in the mouth HH
searching everywhere
for that old blue sweater
one dropped stitch
and a secret hidden
in worn woolen strands MK
unraveling
our future fears
. . . two sparrows
perched on the scarecrow
pull father’s scarf apart HH
somewhere in silence
lies an answer . . .
each spring the task
of double digging soil
before planting MK
wheel turning
I throw a new pot . . .
moulding hope
for the future,
a fragile process HH
Published in Ribbons, Winter 2018: Volume 14, Number 1
Ribbons, Winter 2018: Volume 14, Number 1
Tanka Café Winter 2018 ~ weather prompt
I was born
in a winter storm,
a tiny soul
almost lost
in a sea of white
The April 2018 issue of cattails: the Official Journal of the United Haiku and Tanka Society is out. Here is the link to the issue:
Click to access cattailsApril2018.pdf
I have three poems included–a haiku, a senryu and a tanka.
My thanks to the editors for selecting these poems to be published.
It’s a real honor to have three tanka and one haiku published in a favorite journal of mine, Blithe Spirit. My thanks to editor Shrikaanth Krishnamurthy for his support and encouragement.
Blithe Spirit, Volume 28, Number 1, Journal of the British Haiku Society, February Issue 2018
curtains billowing
in the warm spring air
each strand of lace
intricate, undecipherable
… like you
an early daffodil
frozen in a bed of snow
you left us
long before
we were ready
spooning dumplings
into chicken soup
I imagine my mother –
how I wish we had
another chance
milkweed pods
fading to nothing
as we age
Milkweed Pods by Lucie Veilleux aka 3dots
In the November, 2017 issue of Blithe Spirit, the Journal of the British Haiku Society, these tanka and haiku were published. All poems are (c) 2017 Mary Kendall.
Queen’s dollhouse—
we examine the tiny rooms
in barely a whisper
crowning—
the full moon pushes
through fog
his fingerprint
left under a cup
he made
her only way
to hold on
the slow uncurling
of the fiddleheads
one by one
learning to let go
is never easy
the statue of David
stands so tall in the gallery,
I am speechless
in the Italian
I never learned
Published in Ekphrasis: The British Haiku Society Member’s Anthology, 2017
The statue of David by Michelangelo is in the Accademia Gallery in Florence, Italy. It was sculpted between 1501 and 1504.
Two tanka of mine appeared in the last issue of Ribbons, the journal of the Tanka Society of America.
Ribbons, Fall 2017: Volume 13, Number 3
still collecting dolls
into her old age
a special name for each –
and one story
she refused to tell
Tanka Café, Fall 2017: theme was “paper”
a book propped
by the pillow on my knees,
page after page
I ease into someone
else’s life
Also appearing in Skylark, a Tanka Journal, Volume 5, Issue 2, Winter 2017 is this piece of Tanka Art. The photograph was taken by me in the cemetery of Holy Trinity Church (where William Shakespeare is buried) in Stratford-Upon-Avon, UK in 2015.
This tanka was published in Skylark, a Tanka Journal, Volume 5, Issue 2, Winter 2017:
The following tanka is dedicated to the courageous people who participated in the “Moral Mondays” in my home state of North Carolina. They risked arrest for gathering at the State Legislature to protest unfair and discriminatory legislation being passed. These protests were non-violent and led by the Reverend William J. Barber.
Moral Monday –
arm and arm linked
you choose to step
into the darkness
to find the light
Published: cattails: The Official Journal of the United Haiku and Tanka Society October 2017 Issue
Tanka by Mary Kendall (c) 2017
GUSTS, NO. 24, Contemporary Tanka, Fall/Winter 2017 (Tanka Canada) This is the third of three tanka published in this issue of Gusts.
Note: I have added the picture of dark water here on my blog. The original tanka does not appear with the picture in Gusts. The original water picture is called, “Dark Water”and is by (c) LeandrasStock.
Note: This beautiful owl drawing appears on Pinterest, but I was unable to trace it to a specific artist. I am grateful to the unknown artist for putting this lovely piece ‘out there’ for others to view and use.
Blithe Spirit is the Journal of the British Haiku Society. Two of my tanka and one haiku were published in Volume 27, Number 23 (2017). I am most grateful to be part of this issue.
old shoes –
the challenge
of moving on
plum blossoms—
watching you
struggle for so long
I remember how brief
a season is
stopping to study
fritillaries, tulips
and jonquils –
the sudden way
you take my hand
(c) 2017, Mary Kendall
Blithe Spirit, Volume 27, Number 23 (2017)
staring skyward
at the meteor shower
I brush away two fireflies–
a sudden glint
of new found love
~ Mary Kendall
Presence, Issue 58, July 2017
My thanks to the editors of Presence for publishing this tanka.
This tanka was published in the Tanka Café in Ribbons Spring/Summer 2017: Volume 13, Number 2. The Tanka Café theme was nature.
Ribbons Spring/Summer 2017: Volume 13, Number 2
a soft rain falls
as you work in the garden …
what I’d give to read
the chapters of your life
you never share
Red Lights, Volume 13, No. 2, June 2017
peeling an orange
in one long strand –
trying hard to hold on
to all I remember
of those now gone
a wooden pew
empty and waiting . . .
colored light
from stained glass
cupped in my hands
My thanks to editor and poet, Marilyn Hazelton, who published these tanka in the most excellent Red Lights.
Two of my haiku and two tanka were published in Blithe Spirit, Journal of the British Haiku Society, Volume 27, No. 2, 2017:
autumn morning—
sweeping away all
that drifts inside
washed up
in the sudden flood –
a baby’s shoe
just past sunrise
a single scull
glides down the river. . .
a flash of what it was
to be young
the tight cord slaps
against the flagpole
all night long
I dream of a father
who used few words
My thanks to Shrikaanth Krishnamurthy, the editor of Blithe Spirit, for selecting these four poems for publication.
Note: This is the very first time one of my tanka have appeared in the Australian tanka journal, Eucalypt. My thanks to the new editor, poet Julie Thorndike.
Note: Published by poet and artist, Pamela L. Babusci, Moonbathing is a journal of women’s tanka.
A Poet in Time 