Honoured to have the following concrete tanka selected as 1 of 12 finalists (longlisted from 406 entries) in this "contest without winners"! My thanks to the judging panel for their selection and insightful comments below...
Comments from the Judging Panel:
Chrissi Villa: This tanka is not only visually compelling, with the jumbled arrangement of the letters of "capsized" and the upside-down reflection of the words of the whole poem, but is also poetically poignant.
Shloka Shankar: I recently read a poem by Jim Harrison titled 'Becoming,' and the opening lines, for me, truly encapsulate the emotions underlying this brilliantly crafted concrete tanka:
Nowhere is it the same place as yesterday.
None of us is the same person as yesterday.
We finally die from the exhaustion of becoming.
We all have to face the inevitable uphill battle of growing old and frailer as the years pass us by. The visual potency of this poem, seen as a mirror image, is somehow magnified, staring us straight in the face. What particularly struck me was L2: the "i" in lowercase is almost a depiction of helplessness, the image of being lost at sea, without any kind on anchor.
On the other hand, there is a quiet sense of acceptance that pervades this poem, making it all the more appealing and relatable.
Julie Bloss Kelsey: Strange's visual poem about the loss of health evokes a boat, with scattered letters over the surface of the water implying deeper problems lurking just beneath the waves. The placement of the letters in "capsized" - with "i" in the center - brings to mind a spinning vortex. This is reflected in the rest of the text - "sink deeper into the shipwreck of my body." The repetition of the vortex, both visually and conceptually, effectively implies that the subject of the poem is also falling deeper into depression over their situation. Expertly crafted.
Alan Summers: The use of I on its own line has me thinking of times when 'we' as an individual capsize, and the "i" is reduced by circumstances, and social pressure. Of course, health is always an issue, and sometimes it's not merely physical and physiological, but affected by external issues such as politics, war and famine, poverty, intimidation, and other circumstances beyond our control. The "i" needs to stand on its own line, as we must never lose sight of ourselves despite extraordinary times and peer pressure.
Interview with me:
What inspired the poem?
This tanka was inspired by my experience with chronic illness and the resultant physical and emotional trauma.
What was your process for writing it?
My daily writing practice helps me to shift focus away from the things I cannot control to the things I can! I keep a file of words and fragments that spark my imagination and interest. The word "capsized" was the driving force behind this poem.
What other forms, formats, or iterations did you consider, and why do you think the poem had to be written this way?
The first iteration of this tanka was written in the traditional five-line s/l/s/l/l form. Its final version emerged as a concrete poem because I wished to express the sentiment in a more dynamic manner. The scattered letters symbolize the feeling of being overwhelmed. Use of a lowercase "i" serves to emphasize loss and the myriad ways in which the marginalized and disabled are often made to feel small. The reflected letters are a metaphor for drowning.
How to you think the poem helps to push the boundaries of, or contributes to, the genre?
Invisible disability is often misunderstood, much like tanka, so the dialogue between these two subjects comes quite naturally. Debates surrounding the definition of these topics continue to evolve, and I'm excited to lend my voice to the ongoing conversation!
