Tankas 短歌

Selection of my daily Tanka diary kept throughout 2019 to mark a period of transition. A Tanka is a longer-form version of Japanese Haiku poetry.  
Brown turns to green
In the farmlands and byways
Painted yellow fields shout
Middle England beside the tracks
Winter slips between the cracks

Everything in flux
And I a mere watcher
All is dust and ash
Pace, life, breath, sense, love, sun, time
As I crawl under the sheets

To the quarry…..
A hells angel rakes the grass
Like a zen master
Taking his time, real slow
Blades of green gather lightly

The cat sleeps snoring
In a four beat rhythm
Volume increasing
Dreaming of birds in his grip
Feline noir cinema

Lone seabird hovers
The sea so far away
Seeking solitude
Infinite sandworm piles
Squash beneath my feet

Crispy Autumn skies
Mackerel dapppled cloudscape
Brush strokes like fingers
Falling into the sea
Time to draw the curtains

Just an average day
Much like the other ones
Such it is the way
Perpetual motion
As they harvest the hay

The low morning sun
Cuts sharp rays at ground level
All shimmering sand
Bouncing off the window panes
Like tangerine dreams

Naked skeletal trees
Bones shivering
Solitary leaves hover
Mistletoe hangs likes a bees nest
Waiting for your kisses

Tender clouds hover
Grey washed sky on the tree tops
White as dirty snow
Opaque as net curtains
Drawn loosely together

We walk down the beach
The stranger and I
And perch upon an upturned boat
And slowly embrace
Wrapped up in a dog tooth scarf

My hands grope the day
Pushing, squeezing, teasing it
Will it do what I want?
It sits and waits, unknowing

A gust of white air
Slips and slides through the window
The curtains dancing
A passing gull caws and calls
And the cats ear twitches

Dressed up as a crow
I pick your traits like diamonds
Sparkling essence
I see you, you don’t see me
Oil floating on the surface
Rain drops on the windscreen
Casting a blur of vision
They fall, land and roll
Not caring they are late
The traffic jam neither

The unruffled sea
Makes for a generous host
Slow motion jitters
Full total immersion
All tingling digits

The sky is all mine
On my back in the water
No sounds of children
Just me and the seagulls
Together in the big blue

The cat tells me what he wants
And I obey
Feeding and stroking him
Knowing he cares not for me
But I do not really mind

The teenage seagulls
Bob around on the water
Choppy from the breeze
Like a gang of hooded youth
Endless possibilities

A dip in the river
Floating under willows
Dragon flies flutter
Sun shining, youthful squeals
Dropping like rocks from the bridge

The nights drawing in
Chill in the air by dinner
Long evening tickles
As seasons intermingle
A shawl around the shoulders

Slight rain teases
Clouds pass in the wing mirror
Eternal daisy chain
Wildflowers leggy now
Reaching to the sky to die

Swaying in the breeze
A chorus line of sweetcorn
Reach towards the sky
Sun kissed tips glistening
Soon to be slathered in butter

The waves wave their wave
Hello to the lovers
Sweet nothing whispers
All twittering kisses
As the dog cocks and pisses

Everything the wind
Silver rays skim the low tide
Tinkling bike bell
Everything eternal clouds
Hibernation teases

Falling headlong up the Begwyns

Hail as sharp as vixens teeth
Sink into torpid flesh
Tearing skin to ribbons
All the views none of the climb

This brief day betwixt
Long as a beginners mile
Short as a quick step
Transient blue, eternal moon
The slowest lift towards spring

Eyes anew with winter
Arms bare as branches
Face whipped by wild winds
Submerged in murky waters
Floating upwards as a log