Thank you to Julie Thorndyke for her excellent editoring of the Eucalypt Journal for Tanka. I always feek excited and honoured when Julie chooses one of my tanka for the publication.
Dear Colleen,
Thank you for your submission to Eucalypt issue 35.
I have pleasure in accepting the following poem
a new sandbar
slows the river’s rush
toward the sea
sometimes in my life
I wonder why I hurry
Colleen Keating
“One of my favourite places, ” says Jazz.
Lots of ocean-exploring over the weekend with Jazz & Dom. Jazz says she could sit all day and watch the vissisitude of the ocean. We talked about the wild waves crashing and the small timid waves creeping in and the ever changing ocean. I loved it that the ocean holds her in all its moods. It was low tide, which gave us scope to ramble about, rock hopping and gazing into rock pools , one of our happy places.
Jazz exploring at low tide
Jazz pondering the unceasing quest of the ocean
Jazz who plans to be a Marine Biologist and hopes in some way to play her part in saving our oceans found lots of interest in our afternoon walk. Our most beautiful being the blood-red Anemone
Sometimes it is called the Waratah Anemone and at low tide it looks like a small red blob on crevices near rock pools. In this state it has all its tentacles drawn in to minimise its exposure to the air while it waits for the return of the tide. We were lucky to capture a few waving their tenticles around looking flower like.
The Neptune’s necklace actually called Hormosira and other sea weed and the different varieies of kelp and sea weed was another interesting thing to explore . Some people forage this for their gardens or to eat as it is full of sea mineral.
Below are some of the haiku and tanka Jazz wrote at school this week.
River
nature’s stream glowing
glistening in the dark
cockatoos singing
trees of vibrant green
the silent breeze blowing through
earth’s heart beat echoes
the flowers blooming
nature’s waterfall crashing
cascading rivers
colourful rainbows
reflecting on water
oh what a great sight
Ocean
the ocean waves crush
whales leaping joyfully
seaweed flowing through
sealife swimming happily
dolphns squeaking, fish playing
the colour of blue
reflecting off the blue sky
the sea gulls chirping
salty scent of the ocean
wind blowing through my wet hair
88888——-8888888——8888888
Dom practiced spinning stones with Pa, sliding down sandhills, walling up the rockpools and exploring and sharing out search to observe marine life and sharing his very talented gift of drawing a dragon.
Drawing a detailed dragon
Getting some hints from Pa on spinning stones
and surfing in Keating beach
Back at the beach house listening to the ocean in the shell and having brekky with the family.
It is always a joy to receive the new edition of Eucalypt and especially joyful when one of my tanka is included amongst the many startling and succinct tanka . This month is no exception receiving Issue 34 2023. Lovingly presented
and including tanka that takes days to ponder and absorb .
pink glow
behind silver grey clouds
waiting
medical reports
still to be explained
Colleen Keating
t
Great to receive the latest Eucalypt tanka journal, Issue 32 , 2022,
find one of my tankas included – ‘flawed journey’
and to enjoy the leisure and pleasure in
dipping in and out of this enjoyable journal.
Thank you to the editor Julie Anne Thorndyke
for the wonderful presentation of our work.
I feel honoured to be included . . . named side by side with this
International group of Tanka writers
‘flawed journey’
eucalypt leaves
I search for the unblemished
only to realise
that beauty is in
their flawed journey
” One cannot but be in awe when one contemplates the mysteries
of eternity, of life, of the marvellous structure of reality.
It is enough if one tries to merely comprehend a little of this
mystery each day.
Never lose a holy curiosity.
– Albert Einstein
afternoon rain
dewdrops dazzle like
dangling fairy lights
rainbows
dew drops corralled
by sun beams
Tanka
morning Mozart plays
from a sleepy place I wake
with new energy
to face any curve ball
that is thrown my way
killing fields
the only sound aside from first wind rising
was the occasional brush of my footsteps
against soft cushion of earth
i looked out across the lake
the early dawn light
lay like a silver mirror
broken now and then
as several black cormorants
broke the surface and redived
in the far distance
the black swans grazed in sea grasses
and lone pelicans glided by
I watched the silver light of jumping fish
catch insects
then the pelican saw its opportunity
struck with violent grasp
grabbed the fish
its pouch beak
stretched and wriggling
while it shook its neck
and gulped the fish
I turned my attention to the paperbarks
and the symmetry
of the native miner’s wings
as it flies into a paperbark
and stand in shock
as it flew out
with the agonised death screech
of a cicada in its beak
is this place
that appears so tranquil
actually a killing field?
Merriment of Frogs after the Rain
As the sun comes up
i walked towards the stand of swamp paperbarks
a sound like a freight train racing
through a country town
filled the air
closer it became more individual
like hearing each individual carriage clanking past
and then individual rumbling croaks
yes the swamp was alive with frogs
all carousing and courting and
chatting
here was a living field
vibrant and alive
A Tree Kinship
over the curve of my thoughts
comes a sound
amidst a stand of Paperbarks
they were not only breathing together
they were conversing
my heart wells up to bursting
every tree has such character
twisted and curved
not a straight line anywhere
all seem to be aware of each other
a tree kinship
each with unique characters
that breathe life and meaning
and sanctity
the textured bark glistens with the
wash of the recent rain
in all the tones
of cream – coffee caramel tawny and wheat
desert ochre copper topaz and brown
A plaque on a seat at a lookout
How very lucky are we
to breathe salty air
and sit here by the sea
dappled light
filters through swamp oaks ~
a cathedral moment
as a tiding of magpies
fills it with song
Finding inner solitude today in these final days of lockdown after 112 days of retreat from the world.
June 23rd we knew Lockdown was in inevitable and so we stopped at our small apartment in the coastal town The Entrance, which gave us the feeling of being on a retreat rather than being at home, rather than a holiday, because we could not travel further than 5km. Now it has been 16 weeks of searching for inner solitude. My tanka above was not the one chosen for the Eucalypt 31 but it speaks of our days here.It sums up the days of walks the birds our only companions and the ‘being’ rather then the ‘doing’as the frameworks of meeting with family, friends, writing groups, art gallery, concerts, gatherings for launches and celebrations even funerals, fell away.
What are we left with we older ones who are not homeschooling. holding down jobs, working from home and keeping spirits of children high.?
Then I found the perfection of the sonnet by Longfellow speaks brilliantly of my sentiment.
Emily Dickinson grapples with the same in her brilliant way.
Like Dickinson, Longfellow finds that the one-to-one confrontation occurs best in nature:
And now for Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
My Cathedral
Like two cathedral towers these stately pines
Uplift their fretted summits tipped with cones;
The arch beneath them is not built with stones,
Not Art but Nature traced these lovely lines,
And carved this graceful arabesque of vines;
No organ but the wind here sighs and moans,
No sepulchre conceals a martyr’s bones.
No marble bishop on his tomb reclines.
Enter! the pavement, carpeted with leaves,
Gives back a softened echo to thy tread!
Listen! the choir is singing; all the birds,
In leafy galleries beneath the eaves,
Are singing! listen, ere the sound be fled,
And learn there may be worship without words.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, (1807–82), American poet
– is known for ‘The Wreck of the Hesperus’ and ‘The Village Blacksmith’ (both 1841) and The Song of Hiawatha (1855).
And now my brilliant friend Emily Dickinson
Some keep the Sabbath going to Church — 324 or 326
by Emily Dickinson
Some keep the Sabbath going to Church —
I keep it, staying at Home —
With a Bobolink for a Chorister —
And an Orchard, for a Dome —
Some keep the Sabbath in Surplice —
I just wear my Wings —
And instead of tolling the Bell, for Church,
Our little Sexton — sings.
God preaches, a noted Clergyman —
And the sermon is never long,
So instead of getting to Heaven, at last —
I’m going, all along.
In the above photo
my cathedral is not of stately pines
but of vibrant grass trees and banksia
old river gums, iron barks and acacias
ancients rocks carved from wind and sea
and whispers of spirit under every footprint I take
and when I listen the choir in my cathedral
is full of the healing and comforting sounds of home
Colleen Keating
Exciting to receive the latest Eucalypt: A Tanka Journal in the mail. This month celebrating 30 issues of Tanka.
(Beverley George always acclaimed for the first 20 issues.)
Thank you to the editor, Julie Thorndyke and congratulation on her very creative and thoughtful presentation of our tanka. Proud to see my name twice and feel privileged being included in every Eucalypt since I began writing Haiku and Tanka . . . the succinct intimate Japanese form of poetry.
Julie has her own new collection of stories Divertimento: Stories by Julie Thorndyke publ. Ginninderra Press 2021, just recently published by Ginninderra Press so this is double congratulations to her. Julie spoke at Society of Women Writers of NSW last meeting in Member Bites
eucalypt leaves
i search for the unblemished
realising
the beauty is in
the speckled and scarred
walking
on pink clouds
in wave washed sand
my toes encounter
the first touch of spring
ocean waves
roll in roll out
give and take
as if they are the most
attentive listeners
Report on Bowerbird Tanka Workshop No. 21 –
by
Colleen Keating
Congratulations. The Bowerbird Tanka group, which convenes at Pearl Beach, has come of age. This is the 21st Tanka workshop. Thank you to Beverley for her constancy and dedication. I am a fairly newcomer but am amazed at her focus in the midst of so many other activities.
The tanka date on our calendar is very special. And thanks to the delegates some of whom traveled from as from Tamworth, Canberra, Newcastle and Bathurst to share in the love of tanka.
Of course the drive to Pearl Beach is a journey in itself. One can notice the burdens being left behind as you drive down into its calm repose, cradled between forest and sea. When I arrived, there was already a buzz of friends meeting at Crommelin Cottage in the sanctuary of the Pearl Beach Arboretum. The tankaists so gathered were Beverley George, Michael Thorley, Carole Harrison, Beatrice Yell, Catherine Smith, Julie Thorndyke, Kent Robinson, Anne Benjamin, Dy Andreasen and Colleen Keating. Unable to attend – Marilyn Humbert, Hazel Hall, Kathy Kituai, Gail Hennessy, Samantha Hyde, Carmel Summers, Margaret Grace and Yvonne Hales .
Despite the pall of smoke that covered most of NSW, the Arboretum continued to have its own ambience with a brush turkey that scratched through the leaf litter for its insects and bugs, mostly nearby the cottage as if it was eavesdropping on us.
The first session on the programme – Share a favourite tanka written by someone you have never met but which had an influence on how you came to tanka. The presenters were Julie Thorndyke on a most appropriate tanka for the fire haze and acrid air we have been breathing, written by Debbie Strange, Canada.
Carole Harrison appraised a tanka by Sandi Pray [USA]
Kent Robinson appraised a tanka by Claire Everett. [UK]
Taking the time to focus on a tanka and listen to the insights of one who has pondered on it for some time is a valuable and enriching exercise.
These sharings are available on the Eucalypt website under Bowerbird.
In the second session everyone then had the opportunity to share ‘a tanka which lingers.’
For this, each of us stands and shares a tanka without comment. The silence between each, is like the silence between breaths. A moment of time to let the tanka resonate and become part of you. For me the power is like the collected wisdom of a group doubled, as we read and reflect on what another has reflected on and written.
. 
The next hour we were really spoilt with the presence of Tomoko Oka, a Japanese Calligraphy Artist. Tomoko-san gave us a very gentle introduction to Calligraphy which was a practical exercise in brushing several kanji. It was an honour for all of us to be in her presence. We all entered into the spirit of the exercise, which was centering and some of us found ourselves in a meditative state. This is one of the many arts that is done as only the Japanese know how.
To finish off our morning, a local artist and musician Philip Rich played his guitar and sang a song he wrote and composed himself. It was inspired by an acknowledgement to country he once heard. The refrain was ‘If you’re a friend of mother earth you tread softly on this land’. During our lunch it was time to share with each other and be serenaded by Phillip singing for us some of the work of Nobel winning poet, Bob Dylan and our own Casey Chambers.
A highlight for all of us was the afternoon workshop given by Michael Thorley.
The title of his workshop was ‘shasei – Where Tankaists Fear to Tread? Let’s Go There’.
And go there we did, lead by Michael’s skilful presentation. For some of us, ‘shasei’ was a
new term, a new concept and a very interesting style of writing Tanka. It originated withwhose home some of us have had the honour of visiting in Matsuyama City on Shikoku Island, Japan.
It is a style of writing tanka where you emphasis ‘a sketch from life’ – writing of what one observes however mundane, so that the reader also experiences the scene and understands what has moved them. We had the sanctuary of the Arboretum to walk around and find our moment to try out writing our idea of shasei. We gathered again and shared our thoughts and words.
The day ended with several reports from other tanka groups and our plan to regather in the Autumn of 2020.
Colleen Keating
FIRE ON WATER
It is an honour to have Beverley George with us this afternoon.
Beverley is renowned nationally and internationally in the field of Japanese Poetry . She is a Writing Fellow of the Fellowship of Australian Writers and past editor of the journal Yellow Moon, the Society of Women Writers NSW Newsletter 2004-2006 and Eucalypt: a Tanka Journal which she edited for 10 years. Currently she edits Windfall: Australian Haiku .
How does one sum up such a body of work? How does one begin to speak about this talented writer, her achievements, publications and awards?
She was president of the Australian Haiku Society 2006-10 and has served as an international judge for Japanese poetic genre competitions in Japan , UK, US and Canada. Beverley has presented papers at two poetry conferences in Japan and has served as literary adviser to Mitsui Travel for six small group tours to Japan.
Beverley’s launch speech for “Fire on Water” by Colleen Keating
Welcome everybody and especial thank you to Colleen for inviting me to launch her lovely poetry collection: Fire on Water. An honour indeed.
The poetry in this book engages with so much that truly matters to the human heart and mind. Reading it, I am reminded of the words of the American poet Mary Oliver
“. . . For poems are not words, after all, but fires for the cold, ropes let down to the lost, something as necessary as bread in the pockets of the hungry.”
[― Mary Oliver, ‘A Poetry Handbook’]
Even when writing on complex subjects, Colleen speaks clearly, without artifice. She doesn’t use ‘clever’ words; she uses right words; those words that fit best with the ideas she presents to us. Much thought and care have gone into their selection.
Many of the poems are concerned with social justice: such as the plight of refugees, or aspects of indigenous history but the poet’s voice remains compassionate, not sentimental.
The book itself is physically attractive, easy to use and isn’t that imaginative cover illustration by Elizabeth Keating-Jones, Colleen’s daughter so appealing? I love it.
You will soon notice that the poems are pleasingly grouped although not strictly sequential within those groups. Advantages of this formatting are that the reader can consider aspects of a particular topic at one reading and choose another topic the next time one picks up the book. It also makes it easy to relocate poems for further contemplation; those that we have particularly read and enjoyed. What did Colleen write about downsizing? About refugees? About aspects of nature?
An extremely relevant section for me right now, and I would presume for some others in this room is that of downsizing; disposing of some possessions treasured for a life-time; selling the family home with all its treasured memories of loved family members and pets.
Of particular impact is the brief poem on p. 35 “where’s home, Ulysses”. Lines such as
“where there is a home
make a house depersonalise
the real estate agent says
ebay vinnies salvos
devour my story
on the footpath garbage pick-up
my life exposed”
clearly convey the loss of control, the loss of property, the uncertainty that too often accompanies this rite of passage.
But Colleen’s poems travel through this difficult period with honesty and directness and resolve into thoughts not of just acceptance but of positivity and optimism for what is now possible; what lies ahead.
What comes through clearly and consistently in Colleen’s work, is a strong sense of social justice; deep concern for the plight of those others helpless to improve their own lives.
A particularly powerful poem can be found on. p.75 ‘Stillborn’. Colleen writes of:
“people seeking asylum
returned to face those they flee
history like a drawbridge is pulled up
closed off
humanity is stillborn”
and concludes with the challenging lines
“the everywoman in me weeps […]
if you are not weeping
ask why”
You’ve probably all heard of the Roland Barthes’ theory that once a piece of writing is public the role of the reader becomes active, as they bring their own experience and knowledge to interpreting the text; an interplay between writer and reader results. This suggests we each may read a poem slightly differently and of course you will choose which parts of this book are most relevant and intriguing for you. And this is as it should be.
In a few moments we will have the pleasure of hearing Colleen read some of her own work. Here’s a little advance notice; something I am hoping Colleen might tell us more about. Her fascination with the woman musician, herbalist and healer, Hildegard of Bingen.
A rich source of pleasure in this book comes with Colleen’s approach to writing about nature. These poems are detailed and convincing. The poet is looking hard and appreciating the world around her.
Whether she is writing about a physical location such as The Entrance; plants such as sunflowers, or a felled tree; creatures like a wood pigeon, a dragonfly or a hawk, her words reach out to us; draw us in.
Again, thank you for coming. It is now my very great pleasure to announce Fire on Water by Colleen Keating launched and ready for sharing. We will now hear from the poet, herself…over to Colleen.