Skeleton Architecture

I'm throwing order to the winds to get this one in for Halloween, #22 will follow shortly. This is my first experiment in Scots poetry, which I shouldn't really be writing because I can't speak it, but there are some truly awesome words, some of which really need to get wider use! Particularly 'oorie' - that's just glorious. Some of the words are defined below the tankain detail, but really the word oorie is a poem in itself. Basic translation: It seems always cold/and the low lying mist is miserable and eerie/feet are always totally caked in mud/when the ghosties come through./They have tales that need to be told. Specially glorious words: clartit - related to clarty - muddy, clartit means totally caked in mud dayfelly - a low lying mist in a hollow or depression oorie - dismal, gloomy, miserable looking, hanging from the cold, cold and cheerless, depressive, lonely and sad, feeling of the supernatural, eerie, uneasy. I reckon we need to get ...

Today's tanka treats from the Tanka Project guests involve snow, sunrise, and running. It makes sense to start with the sunrise, which I am not taking enough time to see at the moment. It must happen, but I seem to go from dark sky to grey without noticing the beauty in between. Must get out of bed when it's still dark so I can appreciate it! This is from Carter Ford, who has a good point. A post shared by Tanka Project (@tanka_project) on Oct 22, 2017 at 10:55pm PDT Next up is Janine D whose tanka captures the breathy rhythm of running perfectly. I love how the rhythm of the words in this tanka suggests breathless running. Thanks for letting me share 😁 #Repost @josameys.words (@get_repost) ・・・ *Outrun* No matter how hard you try, you can never outrun your shadow (or your past) -it is with you always. A tanka because too many thoughts/words/syllables/lines for my #DailyHaiku #tanka Day 22 of the #ThreeLinesADay #OctCBFChallenge #ColorBodyFeels for #s...

I set this up to publish in advance, because today I am not doing anything remotely useful (unless you count eating ice cream as useful), because today is my birthday. Yay! I wrote this on another day entirely, when I was filling in a lot of paperwork for an actual paid job I'm starting (I have started, when you read this), scanning and sending off said paperwork, and speaking to various people in the company to get the paperwork swiftly through non-swift systems, plus there was lots of completely irrelevant activity on one of my family Whatsapp streams (Steph, love ya, and I'm going to send you photos of my next boring thing). My phone was pinging away, and with the job stuff I HAD TO KEEP CHECKING IT. Glad it's done, but it was just a wee tad stressy.

If you're not following the Tanka Project on Instagram (@tanka_project)  you're missing out - there are tankas from me, and from lots of other talented people, these three are just a selection. The first is from Gary Mansfield, who has featured before , and I love the way he summons the interior of the bar-room, where all things can be set right and be set right again to bring focus onto a universal truth. Many thanks to Gary Mansfield for letting me share this little gem. #Repost @mansfieldgary (@get_repost) ・・・ #tanka. #poetryforbreakfast. #morningpoetry. #morningpoem. #poetryforbabyboomers #reflectivepoetry #theoryofpoetry. #teachingpoetry. #poetrytherapy. #poetrytochangeourworld. #beingvulnerablethroughpoetry. #appliedpoetry. #analyzingpoetry. #annelamott. #letusthinkaboutthis. #poseía. #poetry. #poems. #studyingpoetry #discussingpoetryforschool. #whyiwritepoetry. #sharingpoetry #messagesinpoetry. #symbolisminpoetry. #metaphorpoem. A post shared by Tanka Proj...

Sometimes I use the photo prompts from Fat Mum Slim's photo a day challenge to inspire a tanka (and a photo!). Recently the prompt was 'one of a kind', so I went out into the dreary looking for something that was one of a kind. I must admit that I thought of a selfie, but I wasn't feeling photogenic, and looking around at the grey and the dreary and the still-f**ing-raining, I wasn't feeling that anything was particularly different, or one of a kind. Then I thought of the saying that you can't step into the same stream twice. It might look the same but the water has moved on and changed. The grey dreary might look the same but there is a different quality to the rainclouds, all that water, above and below is moving on, as are we all. Today someone has died, and their loss is felt. Today someone is born. Today all the other things inbetween have happened to someone somewhere. Today is one of a kind, and the only remarkable thing about that is that you can't t...

I am so happy that other folks are willing to let me share their tankas, because there's so much good stuff out there! This is just a little of it. This is from Naila Mae Hernan, who I suspect has more unclouded sky in her life than I do, and it makes me warm just to look at it. I love this from Naila, there's so much hygge about it 🖤 #Repost @nairachii (@get_repost) ・・・ Chihayafuru inspired. #tanka 💕😊 A post shared by Tanka Project (@tanka_project) on Oct 14, 2017 at 7:56am PDT This, from Wayétu Moore brings in few words such a beautiful eloquence. I love this tanka from Wayétu. So interesting. #Repost @wayetu (@get_repost) ・・・ 🌑 A post shared by Tanka Project (@tanka_project) on Oct 17, 2017 at 8:39am PDT And finally, for this group of guest posts on the Tanka Project, more sea from Carrie Moran with another gorgeous tanka. I seem to be obsessed with moonlit seas today. And loving this tanka. #Repost @cmcollected (@get_repos...

Many thanks to my little sister for letting me use this picture. My little sister has been obsessed with America for as long as I can remember. When she was little she was determined she was going to go live there. I think she's realised that she's actually a bit of a homebody, and she only lives a few miles down the road from our Mum, but she has been over a few times. Speculation soared when she said she was off to Vegas with her remarkably smashing boyfriend. But any ideas that I put on them were mine, not theirs! They are a brilliant couple, currently working really hard together on renovating a house and coming up with ideas that are miles and miles from anything I could dream up. More importantly than that though, they are kind and loving towards each other, and I'm chuffing delighted for my little sister that's she has found a man who might actually be worthy of her.

I have been a woman for ages, and I am no amateur woman either, I'm a professional woman. I've read Caitlin Moran's book and I am fully clued up on How to be a Woman. I went to University for three whole years studying Women's Studies, I represented women as a Women's Officer. I know about womaning. I know about sexual assault and inappropriateness too. Sometimes I was even targeted because of being Women's Officer and doing Women's Studies. I have had lots of experiences, from minor to major, and I have been aware of lots of other women's experiences of all the many and various kinds. I don't think you have to be a professional woman to have this experience, just looking like you might be a woman can get you lined right up for it. So I am not delighted that there are so very many women saying #MeToo at the moment, rather, I am delighted that we are all of us taking the same moment to pick up those disgusting rocks and show the nastiness undernea...

Here's a tanka inspired by the Fat Mum Slim photo a day prompt, 'floral', and also by a conversation I had with someone about high tides. The tides are very high at the moment, and apparently these are called Spring Tides even though they're in Autumn. I guess it's Spring somewhere!

Translating tankas into Esperanto is not easy. Esperanto always seems to need a lot more syllables, and what I thought was pared down has to be pared down even further. Elements of meaning are lost along the way, but other meanings develop. A friend told me that in a really pared down poem all that's left is the truth. I don't know if that's true, but it's a nice idea. Today's tanka is inspired by tanka #2 : Don't waste your life, love. But it's much simpler, and basically says 'Don't waste life, there's lots to do and I'm not here. Life is essential so live my darling.' Traduki tankaojn en Esperanton ne estas facile. Esperanto ĉiam ŝajnas bezoni multe pli da silaboj! Elementoj de signifoj perdiĝas laŭ la vojo, sed aliaj signifoj disvolvas.  Hodiaŭa tanka estas inspirita de tanka # 2

This started off as a ranting poem about Brexit, but even though I still firmly believe in my rant, it doesn't achieve anything, so instead I've made it personal and noted that we all of us have things we don't want to understand, and they will make us stuck.

This is another tanka that's come out of the work I've been revisiting lately. It's about gun control, 'illegal' immigrants, human trafficking. All of that cheery stuff.

It seems that poetry editors all over the world have had a bit more time to crack on at home lately, and I've had a rash of rejections and been reworking some of my stuff in the light of that. A few tankas have come out of this process and here's the first, using a gardening robot to imagine what we might do to our own future.

Esperanto is a language crafted for peace. It's about ten times easier to learn than other languages and has a lot less of the baggage of colonialism that English lugs around with it. I love the English language, but think that you get so much more from the world if you can see it through another language too, so I've been learning Esperanto lately, and here's the first of my Esperanto tankas. This is loosely based on Tanka #1: I seek to conjure , although due to there being more syllables in Esperanto, and more simple language, I've reduced it down to being a poem about summoning Autumn through an imagined painting of the leaves. Esperanto estas lingvo kreita por paco. Ĝi estas proksimume dekoble pli facila pli ol aliajn lingvojn.  Mi amas la anglan lingvon, sed mi pensas, ke oni vidas pli multe de la mondo kun alia lingvo, do mi lernis Esperanton lastatempe, kaj jen estas la unua el miaj Esperantaj tankaoj.  Ĉi tio estas inspirita de tanka #1 .

Today's tanka is a shorter version of another poem of mine, inspired by women coming together through the ages.

The photo prompt for the Fat Mum Slim Photo a Day challenge the other day was 'favourite'. Favourite is a contentious issue in my house. Miss 7 is desperate for me to admit that she's my favourite and Miss 10 is annoyed that I always describe her as my favourite 10 (or 9, 8 etc) year old.  I know some parents have favourites, and truth be told there are moments when I find a child particularly lovely, or particularly not, but surely a favourite has to be more sustained than that? If so, then I could not possibly say, not even if you hypnotised me! Just a quick note to my favourite sister before you get to the picture... I know you hate fish, and I'm sorry.

I'm trying to make the Tanka Project Instagram page look all fancy and professional, but I keep posting things in the wrong order! Anyway, I have had a chance to repost some absolutely luscious poems from other Instagram users, so I thought I'd share the first three of those here just for you. I love this thought provoking tanka from Gary Mansfield. Thanks for sharing Gary! #Repost @mansfieldgary (@get_repost) ・・・ #tankaandhaiku. #tankaandcoffee. #tanka. #writer. #experimentalpoetry. #voiceofpoetry. #voiceofpoem. #poseía. #poema. #reflectivepoetry #poetry. #poems. #beingvulnerablethroughpoetry. #whyiwritepoetry. #poetryforbreakfast. #poetryforbabyboomers. #poetryforthesoul. #nightpoem. #morningpoetry. #studyingpoetry #discussingpoetryforschool. #poetrytherapy. #poetrytochangeourworld. #analyzingpoetry. #teachingpoetry. #sharingpoetry A post shared by Tanka Project (@tanka_project) on Oct 10, 2017 at 5:52am PDT Gary's tanka is really interesting, raising i...

My Dad challenged me to write a tanka about a Tonka truck. I was going to ignore this challenge, but then he got his friend to publicly shame me into it on Facebook. So here you go father and friend. 😝 My brother had a Tonka truck when we were little. I thought it was yellow, my Dad thought it was red. My brother says it was red and  yellow. Nobody has it anymore, and it's not in any photos I can find (I have looked for the amount of time you spend on these projects when you should really be doing something more useful), but that was a really good, sturdy, truck. I've definitely attempted to use it as a skateboard when my feet would fit in it, I've also loaded it with animals, Sindy's, and of course, lots of stones. It was the kind of toy you look at and declare that they don't make them like that anymore. My brother is pretty awesome too. He started off as my little brother. Now he towers above me. He's had plenty of health issues, including collecting a...

I wrote this poem on Ada Lovelace day, which was the 10th October this year. I figured I'd find out more about Ada as all I really knew was that she was Lord Byron (the philandering poet)'s daughter, and one of the first computer programmers. I have just dragged myself out of the rabbit warren of finding out about Ada. Why haven't I seen a film about her? Ada came from a seriously messed up family, and was pushed into mathematics and science by her mother (with the help of some brilliant tutors), who was desperate that she shouldn't inherit what she saw as her father's madness and moral depravity. I am using the word 'father' loosely here, he was more of a sperm donor really. Go google Ada, she's fascinating. Anyway, one of the things that Ada turned her attention to was flying. She really wanted to be able to fly, and looking at the way she lived, with her mother having her watched by her friends to look out for failing morals (Ada dubbed them the...

The Fat Mum Slim Photo a Day prompt the other day was 'angle', and it set me thinking about the Angles who once invaded Britain, transforming it into the divided nation it is today. They did this by pushing out the Britons - the Celtic peoples living on the island, to the north, south, and west, to form the various Gaelic speaking nations, while they themselves took over the land which took their name (later England with a wee vowel shift). The Angles used a really good weapon called a seax - they were so well known for using this weapon that they got known as the Saxons (people of the seax). It wasn't an axe, although I've made it one with a little poetic licence, but a sword or dagger, whose name came from a word meaning to cut. The word scissors comes from the same source. Anyway, my family probably has mixed origins - don't we all - but as I was born in England I'm assuming for the sake of this poem that I'm an Angle (but secretly imagining I'm pa...

This week's Prompt at Mum Turned Mom (link below) is perfection .  I start my Rose book (which I'm going to do an overhaul on, because I think I'm working out why no one wants to publish it) with a consideration of perfection, which is of course, unattainable, although a near miss is pretty good. We will keep aiming for it though, and beating ourselves up for not achieving it. It's a word that seems to get talked about a lot, particularly when considering beauty, and makeup. I am a big fan of makeup. I love black eyeliner, especially teamed with a smokey eye and minimalistic lipstick. I have been known to paint trees on the side of my face, and that's all good. I love watching people do makeup. I follow Illamasqua and Jonysios on Instagram, and they are both awesome feeds, with totally unnatural, brilliant looks. I love it when it's unnatural. I mean, if you're going to put colours on your face why not go wild and have fun? The thing that creeps me out...

Perhaps you can tell by the post title, but this tanka was inspired by watching the film, Girl on a Train, which was surprisingly good, so I'm sorry I didn't read the book. Laurie Penny has spoken about seeing an advert which had a beautiful woman with a tear running down her face, that's what I think of when I see that iconic image for Girl on a Train. Laurie points out that you would never have a picture of a man crying which was supposed to be beautiful, and it's a sign of how messed up our patriarchal structures are that a crying woman can be seen not as a person in distress, but as a pretty thing to be appreciated. Because of that image of the beautiful haunted woman, I had avoided Girl on a Train, but obviously it's way more complicated than that (although seriously, would it kill them to occasionally use an actor who has at least seen a pie?). You might have noticed there's a wee gidget at the side of the post (on desktop) with an Instagram feed from th...

Today I'm linking up with The Prompt over on Mum Turned Mom by Sara, with this poem about whispers. I promise, there are no bodies. Although it's been close a few times over this Easter holidays, with people taking it in turn to be ill, so we've hardly done anything and are all stir crazy! It's my turn now, and I'm feeling better this morning, so hopefully we are done and ready to eat all of the chocolate. Whispers Words whispered in ears light up eyes with the sweet warmth of secrecy but wait:      in whose ear will these words be whispered? Because a whisper winds itself along its way becoming something new. Ears pass to eyes, to lips, to the world and are not, as you know, for real secrets. Real secrets will be whispered to the wind,        to the weeping willow,                        to the West. Words on bodies must be whispered to the bees. Will the whispered wor...

Quite a while ago I wrote a poem called 'Wild Idea', inspired by the Sisters of Mercy song, Driven Like the Snow, which has huge personal significance to me. Wild Idea is a brilliant poem, but I'm still to convince anyone else of that. Wish me luck! Anyway, today's Tanka is inspired by my poem Wild Idea. I'll let you know when I manage to get it published, and then you can gaze upon its brilliance, until then you can gaze upon this slightly odd video.

In Turkey there are cities hollowed out of the ground by human hands which had no other option. These underground cities have water and air built in to them, storage spaces, living and learning spaces, but perhaps most importantly, sacred spaces. Many different people have used these cities over the many many years they have been there, Muslims, Christians, and most recently, during the Second World War, Jews. For many years they were secret, but now we know, and should they be needed again, the aggressors would know too. I hope that there are some secrets kept quiet, because now we know about Derinkuyu  and Kaymaklı (connected to Derinkuyu by a five mile underground tunnel), and many more.

Today's Tanka is inspired by Matt Dennison's poem, One Night . Well, aren't I the cheery little soul!  I got totally fascinated by an episode of In Our Time all about Wuthering Heights (and the fabulous antihero Heathcliff) the other day, and I had this idea of Heathcliff hiding out on the moors, perhaps during the time he was missing. I went to college with a lad called Heathcliff. He was ridiculously good looking. I signed up for Psychology just because he did! He wasn't for me though. Another lass at college also thought he was gorgeous, and they got on like a house on fire, until she plucked up the courage to tell him her name (she managed to hide it for AGES). Sadly Heathcliff wasn't quite ready to meet his Kathy yet so poor Kathy was dumped. 

Today's Tanka is inspired by Mary Elizabeth Fryer's poem 'Do Not Stand at my Grave and Weep '. Don't waste your life, love, you have much you could do and my fire has gone out though it sparked something in you so fan the flame my darling. Ⓒ Cara L McKee I visited a friend's grave and got this strong feeling that she was fed up of me visiting her. She had chosen to have her grave unmarked because she didn't want the living to linger over the dead. Mary E Fryer's poem came to mind, and as I walked home I got the idea for the Tanka project. My friend inspired me to write poetry, and rather than ponder on what's lost I shall write.

I have been messing about with the idea of the Tanka project for a while now, and have decided to launch it today because why on earth not. Basically the project is that I attempt to write a Tanka every day, and I share it with you, as a little dose of poetry. A Tanka is a bit like a long Haiku. It uses the syllable format 5/7/5/7/7, and there should be a turn in it. I don't always manage that, but trying to at least write a Tanka every day means that at least I'm writing. Another thing about Tanka is that they don't have titles, which is awesome as I hate coming up with titles. I'd love it if you felt like giving it a go too, so if you do, leave a Tanka-y comment or give me a link and I'll let people know about it. Tanks! (See what I did there?) Today's Tanka is inspired by today's Fat Mum Slim Photo-a-Day's prompt: Something Green. I chose my hair: