Ok, welcome to our first Winter Storm Tanka Contest. We have a short story contest every season, and I’m starting to feel a little bad that we don’t do a contest for poetry. It’s an oversight really. So this is our first poetry contest. If you notice we never do anything like a “normal” contest. We run a 50 word story contest, so we need a nice and short poetry contest.
Here are the rules. The poems have to be Tankas. That means they are 5 lines with syllable: 5,7,5,7,7. This is basically a Haiku with 2 more lines on the end. These can be one any subject. We are only calling it the Winter Storm Tanka Contest because it’s snowing like crazy right now. Rules and such:
Must be a Tanka
Any subject
Must be in the comments
Deadline April 15
Will will get free ad space on our site worth $1000.
Publication on Every Day Poetry and in Every Writer
Enter as many times as you like.
It feels like I’m forgetting something. I will say we’ve had a lot of interest in these. Other times no one wanted to jump in, so we are reserving to the right to pull this contest if few people decide to enter.
Leave your Tankas below, and good luck…
Death is powerful
But any love always wins
Death takes us over
Love always triumphs because
Love never stops after death
The Evening turns dark
As the winter snow falls down
Drifts cover the ground
Icy sheets slowly descend
Silence is heard all around
I wonder how the results of this contest ever panned out.
Pitta pitta pit
my fingers impatiently
type htmls
looking to see new content
some kind of meat to savour
We should have the winner this Friday…sometimes these take time because we like to hear back from the winners first. We will contact all the winners. We will have a 1st, 2nd, 3rd place…..
Vibrant green ramsons
on the first warm day of spring
drinks in the wet earth.
I will not wait to be told
how offensive I can be.
Three buzzards circle
wings spread wide catching the air
screeching angrily.
Love is such a funny thing
floating in the atmosphere.
What a personality
Had her own individuality
Great imagination
Could use telecommunication
Glad no irreversibility
You ask me to write
candidly, as spring rises
new growth bursting ground.
It’s too soon to speak plainly.
I love you. Words bide their time.
Brown hare sits frozen
in early morning meadow
fearing what it hears.
Positive pregnancy test
left on the bathroom counter.
Tree shadow darkness
slate blue sky after sunset
house lights on hillside
Electricity cooks food
where once cut wood warmed the hearth
Bright, clear sky darkens.
The sun hides behind the moon,
just a ring of fire.
A man remembers his past
as his present keeps changing.
Tire tracks in the mud,
puddles form then freeze at night
as winter commands.
I’ll change the lawnmower’s oil
seeing the first snowdrops bloom.
Ring. Jump. Answer it.
A device smarter than I
demands attention.
Silently the red fox sits
its prey never hears a sound.
I just love my phone.
It connects me to my friends
And my family.
And I could also play games
In order to pass the time.
Roses all grown up
In the middle of spring.
Looking very nice
As a man gives one to his
girl while leaving the garden.
A hack strikes a pose:
fingers arrayed on keyboard
sweating drops of blood.
A zoo keeper throws raw meat
to the big-maned killer king.
Explosions abound
the electronic barrage
rains down on our heads.
Time to seek quiet refuge
in a café with absinthe.
Showing up to the
Pizzeria on the block.
Taking a good slice
Of pepperoni pizza.
Feels good when it hits my tongue.
Renee I just want
To thank you for that poem
That you just made up.
It was creative and nice
And it made me feel real good.
Nuts squirreled away
hidden under dry, brown leaves
where roots curl and twist.
A life enjoyed requires food
remembered and digested.
Tyquan never stop
writing your life and story.
Smile at your little
sister, she will remember.
YOU, audacious and golden.
Sweating at the gym
Working hard on my muscles
and getting into
shape. With my heart beating fast
and my arms getting stronger.
In my brand new car
Riding on the road with the
top down. It is awesome.
Pressing on the gas pedal
While listening to my tunes.
My little sister
Is very lovely and smart
But she is sometimes
A terror for a two year
old child, but I still love her
Electronic screen
backlit and glowing brightly
in the dark of night.
Illumination of mind
at the expense of real life.
Every day gray,
a tired blanket hanging low,
no snow to speak of.
My morning toast burnt too dark,
for dinner cold leftovers.
Blood spots on the tiles,
swirling rivulets of red
draining in the tub.
My lips twist in a wry smile
frozen forever anon.
PRETENSE
Green tea with deep breaths,
Blur, blabber, music and pets,
Charades to forget
The bitter taste of failures,
Glaring black hole of despair.
GOODWILL
Flirty few raindrops,
Spat out by disdainful clouds,
Split a few rainbows,
But vanish in the caked earth,
Too little to be of worth.
DIVERSITY
Hail diversity?
The breadths and depths of the mind.
Multifarious..
One four-year old builds a plane.
Other detonates a car.
Chilling mountain wind
disturbs the leafless branches
of the forest verges.
A man lies dead in his bed
while his wife weeps silently.
Denali
Massive mountain peak
Indians call Denali
Moose graze, reindeer play
Alaska’s untamed frontier
breathtakingly beautiful
Northern Lights
Pale green light in sky
blushed by tints of pink and blue
and rare violet hues
spindly pine trees tickle heaven
Aurora Borealis!
Language of Love
Universal Love
so powerful and mighty.
Everyone knows that
when Love speaks, the world listens
to one, single dialect.
Birds dance on the page
their tiny feet leaving prints
of old cuneiform.
The administrator smiles
and throws seeds for them to eat.
Tankas make me happy for some reason….
This is where swamps sink
deep with silken green algae
Red winged Black birds rise
splaying yellow crimson flags
their caustic cries creation.
Spider in the dust
black and dead and all curled up
how we all fear you
nothing left but this tight ball
never knowing us at all.
Enter the noodle
Shop here. Steam and broth and salt
Rise to greet us, melt
The snow from your eyelashes-
The menu faxed in your eyes.
Little gold leaf clouds
rolling down a hanging scroll,
frame blue kingfishers
chattering in sacred text.
Winter cannot be written.
The birds desolate
calligraphy on the path,
the layered pine and
plum-I embrace fictional
oblivion in your eyes.
Copper lantern sun-
The end of winter sorrows-
Wrist above ink stone-
The abstraction of sudden
Yellow- Falling ink on silk.
Green grass through the snow,
dirty, fading piles of cold
left out for too long.
The girls will soon wear less clothes
and never return my gaze.