Tuesday, November 4, 2014

Hot News:One Man's Maple Moon Volume One 2014

A tanka is snowflakes drifting through the ink dark moon. Chen-ou Liu

Dear Contributors and Readers:

I am pleased to announce that One Man's Maple Moon: 66 Selected English-Chinese Bilingual Tanka, Volume One 2014 is now available online for your reading pleasure.  (Note: I'd revised some of Chinese translations. For those whose tanka are included in the anthology, each  will receive a copy of its e-book edition within three days)

This book is dedicated to Li Bai(701 -- 762), also known as Li Po

A cup of wine, under the flowering trees;
I drink alone, for no friend is near.
Raising my cup I beckon the bright moon,
For he, with my shadow, will make three men.

First Stanza of "Drinking Alone by Moonlight"

nine autumns past
first trip to my homeland…
now in Taipei
drinking alone in moonlight
I still long for Taipei

First Prize Co-winner, 2012 International Tanka Competition

Chen-ou Liu

Please post to all appropriate venues. Your time and help would be greatly appreciated. And many thanks for your continued support of my project.

Look forward to reading your tanka (see "One Man's Maple Moon, Volume Two: Call for Tanka Submissions" Deadline: December 1, 2014)


Selected Tanka: 

a large bruise
deep inside the mango
the way you turned away
when I needed you most

Susan Constable

no abacus
for the task
where the mists part
I begin counting stars

Brian Zimmer

as always,
the echoless flight
of owls...
slicing what’s left
of sanity

Robert D. Wilson

rip-tide --
slowly I return
an occupied shell
to the surging sea
between us

Beverley George

seeks the center
of every tree and rock,
that thing we hold closest --
the end of songs

Michael McClintock

the intense white
of chrysanthemums
while making love
i become
a thousand petals

Pamela A. Babusci

he tells me
why the character for "spring"
is upside down
still the snowflakes
drift between us

Christina Nguyen

I rest my paddle
let the canoe drift awhile
rocks     trees     sky
the lake and I
are an empty mirror

Irene Golas

her sister’s hair
after the rape
so many
long dark strands

Jenny Ward Angyal

my ex-husband
calls his new child the name
we had chosen
for our son,whose heart
stopped in my womb

Amelia Fielden

now Muslims
and immigrants but
-- the same white faces
-- the same white words
they used to point at me

M. Kei

The staccato of fireworks
from the neighbor's field
      we sit in coolness
             emerging stars punctuate
             the words we haven't said

Carol Purington

her face blurs
into a dozen others ...
I tighten my grip
around all that remains
of what was

S.M. Abeles

Yesterday, I thought
my new poem was brilliant
today, it seems confused—
the morning sun in a haze
over the marsh reeds

George Swede

No comments:

Post a Comment