TANKA TAKE HOME — 10th December '25 Featuring poet: Michele L. Harvey
- Firdaus Parvez

- Dec 10, 2025
- 2 min read
hosts: Firdaus Parvez, Kala Ramesh, Priti Aisola & Suraja Menon Roychowdhury
Introducing a new perspective to our Wednesday Feature!
10th December, 2025
poet of the month: Michele L. Harvey
I can hear them
crashing through the underbrush
and breaking branches
those imps of unbridled ire
who bide in my monkey mind
Red Lights, Vol. 16, No. 1, 2020
do not fret
over living a quiet life
silence
is what every note needs
to make music
Eucalypt Issue 34, 2023, Scribble Award win
Michele, we thank you warmly for sharing your poems and for your thoughtful responses to our questions.
Q3.
TTH: How do you develop a tanka? Please guide us through the stages of a poem.
Michele: As a visual artist I generally, start with an image or idea. It can come from anywhere: nature, an overheard remark, someone’s story, the news or my varied interests &
experience. Anything & all can be subject. That’s one of the true beauties of tanka. I
always carry a pad & pen, to jot down random ideas.
Q4.
TTH: Who are your favourite tanka poets? In addition to tanka what other genres of
poetry do you write or read? Tell us about some of the books you've enjoyed.
Michele: There’s too many inspiring poets to name, with always new ones to discover.
I appreciate poets for their differing gifts. Top contemporary favorites would be: Michael
McClintock, Claire Everett, An’ya, Tom Clausen, LeRoy Gorman, Kirsty Karkow, Kala
Ramesh, Andrew Riutta, George Swede, John Stevenson, Karma Tenzing Wangchuk,
Linda Jeanette Ward and many more.
More about the poet:
Michele's career has been as a professional landscape artist, painting in both oil & watercolor since 1976, in New York, USA.
Your Challenge this Week!
The two tanka are talking about opposite things: noise — anger in one's head but then also the goodness of silence. Let us know your thoughts on them. The challenge for this week is 'sound'; it can be noise, it can be silence. Take it where your muse leads. Have fun!
And remember – tanka, because of those two extra lines, lends itself most beautifully when revealing a story. And tanka prose is storytelling.
Give these ideas some thought and share your tanka and tanka-prose with us here. Keep your senses open, observe things that happen around you and write. You can post tanka and tanka-prose outside of these themes as well.
PLEASE NOTE
1. Post only one poem at a time, only one per day.
2. Only 2 tanka and two tanka-prose per poet per prompt.
Tanka art, of course, if you want to.
3. Share your best-polished pieces.
4. Please do not post something in a hurry or something you have just written. Let it simmer for a while.
5. Post your final edited version on top of your original verse.
6. Don't forget to give feedback on others' poems.
We are delighted to open the comment thread for you to share your unpublished tanka and tanka-prose (within 250 words) to be considered for inclusion in the haikuKATHA monthly magazine.

17/12/25 #1
What Settles
The lid closes. The last echo of what did its work holds its shape among scraps. Sound arrives altered. Peel meets peel with a soft give. A jar lowers itself and keeps the hollow it makes. Somewhere, a thin winged whine writes and rewrites the dark.
The noise does not stop at once. It rearranges. The street pulls back. I stand there briefly, long enough for what has been finished with to continue on its own.
later
an apple
half-mooned
my teeth
find the bruise
C.X. Turner, U.K.
(feedback welcome)
#1st Revision: self edit
16-12-25
wind wails
seeping through windows...
the cold moon
stuck
like her frozen tears
Padma Priya
India
feedback welcome
***
#1
16-12-25
wind wails
seeping through windows...
the cold moon
like her frozen tears
stuck in the sky
Padma Priya
India
feedback welcome
#2
Loving God
It's a winter dusk. A homeless crippled woman crawls on an alley inch by inch, pushing her sit-on mat and dragging the bags of her belongings alternately. She uses a makeshift cement-leveler as the hand support to protect from getting bruised. I and a few children watch her crawl from the side. The children knew something about her—she broke her legs in an accident and the doctor amputated them. After a while, her daughter throws her out of the house. Her son is in a foreign country, doing labor work. The woman takes seven hours to crawl about five hundred meter alleys starting from the highway behind. The police had seen her but didn't give any help. I can see the…
Dear TTH hosts,
I greatly appreciate your effort to feature Michele L. Harvey. It is a privilege to be acquainted with her reflective tanka.
In the haikai spirit,
Tejendra
#1
Geetanjali L2
Early morning, a yogi pushing another disabled yogi on the wheelchair, stops at the majestic gate of a mansion. They wear saffron robes and turbans, their legs lean and blackened due to the sunburn walking every day. They play Hindu God hymns through the PA.
A wealthy man pulls his jeep out of the mansion through its gate. The yogis expectantly wait him for the alms to be given. The hymns keep playing.
They look lost for a moment. Now their hopes shift to his potential family members inside the mansion. The hymns continue to play. They keep waiting at the gate. Shortly after, a servant walks to the gate and shuts it…