A tanka & a tanka prose in cattails journal

Screenshot of tanka in cattails

I am very happy to have both a tanka and a tanka prose published in the latest edition of cattails journal. The tanka is actually the very first tanka I wrote, and it was for the first assignment on the Tanka Online course with Call of the Page.

a life too small
for your spirit
my heart aches
to bring you home
so many never-endings

(on p.106 of cattails 232)

It came to me as I was watching my hamster, Rogue, free roaming. When I set out to adopt a hamster, 30 years after my last one, I didn’t realise how much hamster care had changed. Unfortunately too small cages are still sold in pet shops, as hamsters continue to be seen as cheap pets suitable for children. This is even though the minimum ethical standard is now typically recommended as 100x50x50cm. When I watch Rogue in free roam and in her 122x50cm glass tank, I feel such sadness for my childhood hamsters and for all those hamsters I see in unsuitable cages online. Much as I would love to rescue all the hamsters in need, I have to accept that it’s not possible. The tanka also makes me think about other species, including humans, who are subjected to physical or emotional restriction that stops them from living a happy life.

Screenshot of tanka prose in cattails

The State of the Day

wildfires
rising interest rates
wasted years
desperate for donations
my heavy phone

Each day online feels like we are heading towards the Rapture. I want to look but not look, know but not know.

(on p.190 of cattails 232)

This tanka prose was one that came out of that feeling of every time I look at my phone, be it for news, social media or emails, there are awful things happening around the world. This seems even more appropriate at the moment given the situation with Israel-Gaza. For me there’s a tension between wanting to know about these things and not wanting to know. And at what point does looking at all these awful things become a kind of voyeuristic adrenaline kick. ‘The Rapture’ was the editor’s choice, which I agreed to. I had written ‘The End’. I realised afterwards I’m not entirely comfortable with the change as it’s a phrase I wouldn’t use, though it does feel more impactful. It’s been interesting to observe how I feel about this piece as a result. I’m still mentally adjusting to receiving suggested changes from editors. At what point does a change feel like it takes the piece beyond my own work? I’m guessing that this is something most writers grapple with, and not just in poetry.

I have more work due to be published elsewhere and I’m just about to do another submission. My writing has slowed down a lot due to a work project that took up a huge chunk of creative brainpower. I’m hoping that now that is largely complete, there’ll be space in my brain for more tanka writing.

Tanka (& haiku) prose in Drifting Sands Haibun Journal

Tanka prose in DSH, text at bottom of post

I am very happy to have this tanka (& haiku) prose, inspired by seeing and looking out for a missing dog this year, published in DSH here: https://drifting-sands-haibun.org/wp-content/uploads/2023/09/Issue-23.pdf#page86 . I submitted it for the previous journal in a different form and the guest editor for that issue made a few suggestions to improve it, encouraging me to re-submit the next time. The guest editor for this edition, Marion Clarke, came back with very detailed and encouraging feedback and suggestions on my edited piece. I was really touched by the time Marion had taken in reviewing my work and the encouragement to resubmit to her if I could revise it in time. 24 hours later with a little extra to and fro it was done.

The key change Marion suggested was to change the second tanka I had to a haiku and with a different focus. I’ll admit I don’t really feel I’m a natural haiku writer so I wrote a different tanka which came out of nowhere as I was re-reading my prose. Marion liked the start of the tanka but felt the last two lines were superfluous and it became, with another small change, a haiku. So I now have my first published haiku too, though I feel I can’t claim full credit for it.

And now I am thinking how playful it might be to experiment with different poetry forms in a piece and how far you can go with this. Perhaps I should be brave and study haiku further rather than believe it’s not for me.

Text of piece is below, please note I’ve written this post on my phone and WordPress has annoyingly refused point blank to format the haiku with single-line spacing, so I’ve left it as is.

Going Back

another day
muntjacs and squirrels run past
I think of if onlys
lost in the long grass

Ruby ran away a few months ago, after a gunshot startled her. Her family searched for her everywhere. Once, I saw her on my walk by the woods. A red cocker spaniel, muddy, soaked and running at high speed. Despite all the advice not to call out to a runaway dog, I called her name. Instinct, I suppose. But once in survival mode, dogs can be hard to catch, and Ruby carried on running. Every walk I hoped to see her again.

Then one day, an update online. She’d been handed in to a vet 170 miles away.

remembering curlews

I debate returning

to my childhood home