("Finding My Voice in Tanka" was first published in Ribbons, 14:3, Fall 2018, pages 92-8, and reprinted here by kind permission of NeverEnding Story contributor, Christine L. Villa)
"Finding My Voice in Tanka" by Christine L. Villa
I was introduced to tanka for the first time, in 2011, when I met Chen-ou Liu online. We were both haiku contributors for an online children’s poetry journal called Berry Blue Haiku. I admired his work so much that I started following his blog regularly. I discovered not only his haiku expertise, but also his publishing achievements and successes in tanka writing. Needless to say, I was instantly smitten with this form of poetry.
mid-autumn night…
the wind whispers to me
Chinese words
that offer me a home
in the shape of a moon
Chen-ou Liu
Tanka First Place, 2011 San Francisco International Competition Haiku, Senryu, Tanka, and Rengay sponsored by the Haiku Poets of Northern California
bare maple tree
standing on the front lawn…
with no one around
I speak to it
in my mother tongue
Chen-ou Liu
2011 "Best of the Best" Poetry Award (Tanka Category)
selected by the Founding Editor of Lyrical Passion Poetry E-Zine
I was so curious and determined to know more about haiku and tanka that I plucked the courage to befriend him online. After just a few email exchanges, he turned out to be a generous teacher. He offered suggestions on a couple of poems that I was working on and led me to the website, www.tankaonline.com. Soon, I learned the ground rules for writing tanka.
In 2012, I was acquainted with Kathy Uyen Nguyen (online) through the Collaborative Photo-Haiku Project by Tiff Holmes. Every day I looked forward to her tanka that was a response to the daily prompt. As I struggled to write my own tanka, my love for this five-line verse form grew exponentially.
slicing
the edge
of this onion. . .
how it feels to fall
into the meaning of us
Kathy Uyen Nguyen
Then, I chanced upon Kirsten Cliff’s blog, Swimming in the Lines of Haiku. Her tanka, dealing with her battle with cancer, filled me to the brim with emotions.
he creates
a new centrepiece
for the dining table
a size nine shoebox
full of medications
Kirsten Cliff, Presence, 44, June 2011
It didn’t take long before I read Kirsten’s announcement of The Siloh Tanka Contest (2012) on her blog. Though I was encouraged by her to submit, I reluctantly sent my entry at the eleventh hour.
by the fireplace
the crackle of our laughter
melting into a dream
only the winter moon knows
how long forever is
Surprisingly, my tanka received a Special Mention. She wrote, “This reminds me so much of hubby and I on winter evenings, sitting by the fire, that I loved it from its first reading. “only the winter moon knows/how long forever is”—extremely poignant and excellent imagery. You have a great tanka future, Chrissi!” I was blown away by her remark and that moment marked a special milestone on my tanka journey. From then on, I was not only a curious student, but also an ambitious one, willing to conquer the secret formula for writing a winning tanka.
I scoured the internet and kept my eyes open for more guidelines on how to write effective tanka. I bookmarked various websites on my computer that shared a wealth of information, including the Tanka Society of America, Graceguts, Atlas Poetica, AhaPoetry, and Mandy’s Pages.
My next contest entry that same year won 2nd place in the Diogen Tanka Contest:
winter moonlight
on his old guitar. . .
once again
I hear him sing
our favorite song
I was thrilled but felt that something was missing. I knew that I should not rest on my two laurels alone, since I was still a beginner who was trying to find her voice. But how do I find it? I started asking myself these questions—Why do I write? What do I want to share? What makes me laugh, cry, or angry? Why choose tanka? Am I willing to feel vulnerable? Am I brave enough to let others hear my voice? Am I willing to share my genuine feelings, to reawaken the memory and emotions in my readers?
After my husband passed away in 2013, I enrolled in one of Alan Summers’ online tanka classes. I was so grateful that I did because it gave me direction and a goal to achieve. The tanka and tanka prose that I shared with the group revolved around my grief. It was my reality at that time and it was the truth that I wanted to speak about. With Alan’s mentoring, I was deeply inspired to write a collection of grief poems. In 2016, that epiphany gave birth to The Bluebird’s Cry’s, a book which comprises mostly of tanka poems.
In 2013, I joined the Tanka Poets on Site group on Facebook. It was my venue for healing and self-expression. This slowly shaped my voice as I dared to tread the dangerous path. Dangerous because I chose to be vulnerable and to reveal my deepest wounds. I wanted to talk about my pains, my fears, my anxieties, and my dark experiences. I wanted to write something that was deep and true, one that the reader would finish himself based on his own experiences. I searched for a voice that would resonate, a voice that is often dominant or hidden in other people’s minds and hearts.
It was also on Facebook where I met my third mentor, David Terelinck. He tremendously influenced and inspired my tanka writing skills with his own work. Under his excellent tutelage, I and several other poets were so blessed to be a part of his group, Tanka Workshop. We learned to write more effective tanka by constantly adhering to his guidelines such as using fresh metaphors, showing rather than telling, and adding more dreaming room/space.
his stand
on chemotherapy
the bluebird’s cry
nestles on the palm
of sunrise
Christine L. Villa, 1st place winner, Annual Tanka Contest 2016, Mandy’s Page
They say that when you want to be original, you have to emulate more than one person. In the beginning, it was not only the poet Chen-ou Liu that I idolized the most, it was also Pamela A. Babusci, David Terelinck, and Claire Everett.
a solitary woman
knows a heartache
or two
tossing scarlet petals
into her evening bath
Pamela A. Babusci, A Solitary Woman
these kind of calls
are never easy to make . . .
the darkness
contained within
this new moon night
David Terelinck, Slow Growing Ivy
I thought you taught me
all I needed to know
about silence . . .
waxing with the moon
magnolia blooms
Claire Everett, Twelve Moons
Being envious was a healthy start because it made me follow their work, admire them from a distance, and select what I liked about them the most. More than their exceptional literary skills, I have marveled at their common denominator which is their authenticity and boldness in putting down their own unique story on paper. They were the poets that propelled me to dig deep into myself, find that voice, and be brave to own it. Eventually, I was so honored to have my tanka published in journals edited by these same poets that I had looked up to.
only remembering
how he loved me . . .
in a clear brook
white clouds gather
in my hands
Honorable Mention, 2016 Sanford Goldstein International Contest
One Man's Maple Moon, Volume II, Editor, Chen-ou Liu
a burst of flowers
on a cactus plant . . .
still I question
a widow’s length of time
to grieve
Moonbathing, 12, Spring/Summer 2015, Editor, Pamela A. Babusci
touching
the same piano keys
you once played
the first white peonies
at the light of dawn
2015 TSA Members’ Anthology, Editor, Claire Everett
Speaking of authenticity, I’m not against tanka writing based on fiction because I’m a fiction writer myself. If I can write close to the truth and sound credible despite how far-fetched it is from your reality, why not go for it? But every potent fictional piece that I have written has traces of my experiences. A prompt usually sparks my imagination, triggers a piece of memory, and winds back to a slice of my truth. And the ones that I have written based on naked truths are the ones that have been the most effective in tugging the heartstrings of readers. This is how I found my voice. I continue to look at tanka as a sacred medium to tell my unique story with brevity and emotional strength.
polishing
the apple on my jeans
I know
my mother-in-law
still has something to say
Christine L. Villa, Honorable Mention, 2018 Sanford Goldstein International Contest
No comments:
Post a Comment