ohhhh . . .
who lives
in a pineapple
under the sea?
my childhood

Kendall Robison

bacon and eggs
over easy
when I was your age
I served trolls
wine and cheese

Randy Brooks

This tanka is so funny. It really has a playfulness about it that reminds me of home breakfast and playtime. I was reminded of when my sister got an Easy-Bake Oven for Christmas. I would watch her make stuff in it we used to pretend that we were having guests over for dinner. The guests were of course, toys. It also has a sort of reflective and loving manner to it as well. The person making the breakfast loves their child, and it's innocence. I could just envision myself cooking breakfast for my little cousin and having the same feeling. Bill

my new apartment
littered with packed boxes,
and i wonder about
the men who will make
those their homes

Brittany Mytnik

abandoned roads
street lamps and signs
made for homes
never built
STAY OUT

Owen Kosik

ohhhh . . .
who lives
in a pineapple
under the sea?
my childhood

my new apartment
littered with packed boxes,
and i wonder about
the men who will make
those their homes

ohhhh . . .
who lives
in a pineapple
under the sea?
my childhood

top quarter champion

TOP half Chamption

ohhhh . . .
who lives
in a pineapple
under the sea?
my childhood

bottom quarter champion

her key inserted
to unlock my heart
but my tumblers
are broken
from my ex's lockpick

looking at this photograph
the smell of his garage
lingers on my nostrils;
motor oil, sunflower seeds,
and grandpa's hugs

her key inserted
to unlock my heart
but my tumblers
are broken
from my ex's lockpick

looking at this photograph
the smell of his garage
lingers on my nostrils;
motor oil, sunflower seeds,
and grandpa's hugs

Samantha Parks

the way I am
no longer
a bread and butter
toast and jam
man

Randy Brooks

This tanka at first confused me, and it took me awhile to develop my own interpretation of its meaning. I enjoyed the challenge, and I like the interpretation I came up with. I see it as a person who is reflecting on the fact that he no longer live off simple things: bread, butter, toast, and jam. This used to be a way of life--the only way of life in which he could subsist. After successes in life and becoming more fortunate financially, he is able to afford luxuries and better food than before. He does not need to live off of bread, butter, toast, and jam. There may be some sadness as he realizes that things are not as they were before, but at the same time it is not necessarily a bad thing. Perhaps he misses appreciating the little things, and now takes them for granted. This tanka raises questions, and I think that is an interesting quality. Brittany

the chalk outline of the base
dissolves into the cracked ground
where just 5 years ago
you smiled at me
for the first time

Desi Thomas

her key inserted
to unlock my heart
but my tumblers
are broken
from my ex's lockpick

Bill Rzeszutko

I really love the metaphor of this one, and the way it is employed. I like how the common metaphor of a lock and key in a relationship (one person is guarded while the other is able to help them open up and is their “soul mate”), and they give it new context. The key is inserted into the lock, however the tumblers are broken “from my ex’s lockpick,” meaning that the lock is incapable of opening now. The past girlfriend has caused him to remain guarded and closed off from others, and this is a wonderful way of expressing that. Brittany

TOP half champion

ohhhh . . .
who lives
in a pineapple
under the sea?
my childhood

CHAMPION

ohhhh . . .
who lives
in a pineapple
under the sea?
my childhood

the wooden stage
held me,
while the other me
was under the
spotlight

BOTTOM half champion

wide green field
young on one side
old on the other
war, football, tag, baseball
now, just another lot

Owen Kosik

my sore aging back remembers
how restless winter horses
made the cold arena sand
seem somehow familiar
with each spin or buck

Nora Kocher

the scent of the wooden stage,
the heat of the lights on my skin--
ghostly applause fills my ears
and i instinctively
take a bow

Brittany Mytnik

the wooden stage
held me,
while the other me
was under the
spotlight

Morgan Ewald

wide green field
young on one side
old on the other
war, football, tag, baseball
now, just another lot

the wooden stage
held me,
while the other me
was under the
spotlight

the wooden stage
held me,
while the other me
was under the
spotlight

top quarter champion

BOTTOM half champion

the wooden stage
held me,
while the other me
was under the
spotlight

bottom quarter champion

taking breath
i prepare
to talk my way out
of
detention

freshman homecoming dance
picking my daughter up early
she tells me all about
how prince charming
turned out to be a frog

taking breath
i prepare
to talk my way out
of
detention

freshman homecoming dance
picking my daughter up early
she tells me all about
how prince charming
turned out to be a frog

Nora Kocher
           
This tanka really made me laugh too. Though it can be read as angry or hysterical, I chose the first. I see the girl to be more angry and comical about the matter than hysterical and in tears. She is only a freshman and may not have known this kid for a long time. Maybe she found out all the stuff that she couldn’t stand about him at the dance. I liked how it was used that Prince Charming turned out to be a frog. It is a very playful metaphor.  Bill

in the front room
I recall the day
you told me
we were having a baby
though I wasn't pregnant

Desi Thomas

seeing my high school years later
I look at the softball diamond
and still wish the coach
had let me play through the injury
just one inning the final game

Nora Kocher

This tanka speaks to me because one of my close friends got injured at the end of marching band season our senior year. He displaced his knee, and he wasn't able to march the final competition of his marching band career. And I remember how upset he was, because normally, in marching band, if someone is injured they are allowed to play the instrument on the sideline, but our director wouldn't let him stand on the side and play because she thought it would make us look weaker. So he didn't get to participate at all in the final competition. He did come and watch us perform, though. But that is what this tanka speaks to me about, because I feel like this poem is talking about a similar situation with a softball team and someone that had their final game and couldn't play. It is just really sad because most of the time, you don't realize that something is your last time to do something. You assume you have one more game, and something happens, and you realize the last game you played was your end. It is just really sad. Especially if it is something you are passionate about. Morgan

taking breath
i prepare
to talk my way out
of
detention

Bill Rzeszutko