“A Tanka Trio (3)” published at Gobblers by Masticadores

On By Mike U.In Poetry

I’d like to announce the third installment of my tanka series titled “A Tanka Trio (3)” is now live at Gobblers by Masticadores. Each of these installments contains three tanka (be sure to click this link or the link below to read all of them). Sincere thanks to Editor Manuela Timofte for publishing this installment. I hope you find these enjoyable.

“A Tanka Trio (3)”
© 2021 by Michael L. Utley

(#7)

My eyes hear what my
Ears cannot see I wash my
Mouth of bitter taste
Of memories long past and
Chase scent of elusive hope

…..

(#8)

Distant memories
Hide like frail columbines
Shade-bound ‘neath the firs
Fragile petals woe-dappled
In the meadows of my mind

You can read the rest of this tanka installment here:

A Tanka Trio (3)

Also, don’t forget to follow and subscribe to Gobblers by Masticadores, where you’ll find some wonderful writing and plenty of food for thought.

41 thoughts on ““A Tanka Trio (3)” published at Gobblers by Masticadores”

  7. I like all three of your beautiful poems, Mike.

    Here’s the poem about the sounds I can’t hear –

    The Sound of Silence

    I can hear raining and singing.

    banging and clanging.

    I can hear clapping and slapping.

    giggling and drizzling.

    I can hear chattering and clattering.

    mumbling and crumbling.

    I can hear whistling and nibbling.

    hissing and whizzing.

    What can’t I hear?

    I can’t hear the sound of silence,

    a musical note of rest.

    It’s the ringing in my ear,

    the tinnitus can’t disappear,

    all the time, it’s here.

    How I miss the sound of silence, in

    that musical note of rest!

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    1. A wonderful poem, and informative in a way that many normally hearing people don’t understand. People often ask me what a life of silence is like. I must explain to them about the constant low background roar I hear, the ringing, the weird head noise, the sensation of feverishness in my inner ears when I’m fatigued, and how my deafness isn’t really silent. My deafness is classified as an auditory processing problem, which makes interpreting the few remaining sounds I can hear very difficult. I’ve lost so many frequencies by now that I can’t hear much at all, and what residual hearing remains is very muffled and distant, and I can’t always determine what those sounds are or which direction they’re coming from. It’s a strange combination of constant static and distant, muffled noise to go along with the silence. And it’s progressively worsening. I’ll become totally deaf at some point in the near future.

      Thank you for your kind words, and for sharing your beautiful poem with me, Miriam. Much appreciated. Have a good Sunday, my friend. 😊

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    1. Thanks, Diana. I was thoroughly wiped-out, to be honest! It was fun, and truly eye-opening, all the kindness expressed by everyone. So many people commented. For a while there, it felt as though I was caught up in a whirlwind. I’m truly grateful for your kindness and the opportunity you gave me. Sally was a splendid host. A tip o’ the cap to you, my friend! 😊🧢

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      1. I was wiped out too, Mike. It can be overwhelming when everytime you go there, there are five more comments. Wonderful but exhausting. I didn’t little else for two days. I’m constantly having to adjust my blogging schedule and how much I participate because I wouldn’t have time to do anything else including write. It’s been an ongoing lesson in self-care.

        But I loved introducing you to more of this amazing community. It’s top to bottom kindness and gives me hope for the world when I really need it. ❤

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  14. I understand your situation slightly, Mike! How true! The deafness isn’t silent. Sorry that you’re not eligible for implants.

    My loss of the high frequency is worsening over the years. When I listened to classical music with headphones, I tried to compare the two ears. If I can hear in two notches on my right ear, I have to turn up to 4 or 5 notches on the left. It bothers me when I can hear the violin’s high notes. I used to be in a women’s Bible study and I couldn’t hear everything being said especially when they spoke softly. It’s hard to carry on a conversation when I can’t hear everything.

    My husband and my daughter are used to repeating what they say to me. Are you living with your family?

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    1. Ah, music.. I miss it more than anything. I aspired to be a musician in my teens and twenties. Taught myself to play guitar, had dreams of touring, recording albums, the works. I wrote music/lyrics. However, as I was improving my guitar playing, my deafness was worsening. I became tone-deaf at age 26 after an intense bout of strep throat. No more music for me after that. It was like losing a best friend. I have an essay here on my blog relating to my musical aspirations (along with a photo of myself at age 23 playing guitar, and my ’80s hairstyle!). 🎸

      My hearing loss was originally in the mid-range frequencies where most of human speech resides. For a long time, high frequencies remained really loud to me, to the point of being painful sometimes. It was so strange. The clink of a spoon in a bowl, the crumpling of a plastic shopping bag, the sound of a running faucet, all way too loud for me despite the severity of my deafness. Over the past five years or so, my high-frequency loss has caught up with me and I can’t hear those sounds anymore for the most part. Deafness is so weird.

      I live alone in a small apartment in the tiny town of Cortez in SW CO. I never found anyone to love who would love me back, so no wife, no girlfriend, no kids or grandkids, and no friends in this town. It’s been my experience that normally hearing people just don’t want to take the time to communicate with deaf and hard-of-hearing people. So, I’m reclusive and rarely go out in public. Whenever I have to communicate in person, it requires the other person to write or type what’s being said. I lip-read (poorly), but it’s hit-and-miss, and I just don’t get enough visual clues to compensate for what I can’t hear. It makes it really awkward and inconvenient to communicate face-to-face with anyone. I’m extremely introverted, so being alone all the time is bearable, but sometimes the reality of loneliness hits me unexpectedly. It’s my biggest regret in life. I have one “real-life” friend in Arizona (my buddy Jeff, who’s playing drums in the above-mentioned photo). The rest of my group of friends reside here in our little writing community. Thank goodness for WP. 😊

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  15. Hi Mike, I read your essay but wanted to comment here. First of all, I want to tell you that I lost a sister who had meningitis when she was three years old. I was seven, I think, but I remember a few details. In your situation, you were lucky to be alive after a whole week of fever. Of course, unfortunately, you lost your hearing due to your illness.

    I understand totally that music was your best friend or only friend. Without music, it must be like living in a desert without water. I don’t know if you’ve come across a blogger named Carol Anne. She is legally blind but somehow she can “read” blogs and comments. Are there anything similar to that for the deaf? That you can tell the music by seeing the blinking of colors (my imagination)? Is Mr. Crivello, who published your essay on Globbers, also Masticadores? So you’ve been publishing with them since 2021. That’s wonderful.

    Are you still following Sam Borromeo who commented extensively on your essay? It seems like quite a few bloggers would like to see you writing your biography or memoir. I wrote a memoir which covers one year during my cancer. Memoir doesn’t have to be in chronological order or cover every period of your life. I know Diana would like you to write a book.

    Were your parents gone when they still lived on the farm? Do you have any siblings?

    It’s perfectly fine if you feel comfortable by yourself in an apartment. It seems like you’re working to support yourself.

    Two years ago, my husband and I moved to Portland, Oregon to be close to my daughter’s family. We help pick up the grandkids from school twice a week to take them to different lessons. I used to blog a lot, but after moving here, my priority is to take care of the gradkids. My last post was about a month ago! 🙂 🙂

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    1. I’m so sorry to learn about your little sister, Miriam. That’s incredibly sad. Meningitis is such a dangerous illness, and you’re right–I was lucky that only my hearing was affected. Please accept my condolences.

      I’m familiar with some of Carol Anne’s work. I read an interview with her a couple of months ago on Hotel by Masticadores. I have so much respect for her and how she’s adapted to her blindness. She’s courageous.

      I’m unaware of any technology that allows deaf people to interact with and enjoy music. What I do even nowadays is watch music videos of old familiar songs. I can’t actually understand any of the music, but since I already have the songs memorized, I can just focus on watching the guitarists play and try to visualize the sounds in my mind. It’s the closest thing to “hearing” music there is for me, and the old videos bring back good memories of my guitar-playing youth.

      I haven’t heard from Sam for quite a while. I hope she’s doing well.

      Yes, Juan Re Crivello has been publishing my work at various Masticadores sites since July 2022. I’ve had essays and poetry published at Masticadores India, Masticadores Philippines, Masticadores Canada, Gobblers, Chewers, Hotel, LatinosUSA, as well as Spillwords Press. One of my poems was even nominated for a Pushcart Prize last year. Our friend Diana Wallace Peach was kind enough to include one of my poems in her most recent novel, Tale of the Seasons’ Weaver. Also, some of my poetry will be included in Michelle Ayon Navajas’ anthology, After Rain Skies: The Global Anthology, set for release on March 8. I dreamed of becoming a published writer for more than forty years. Juan and his wonderful editors made that happen, and I’m eternally grateful for their kindness.

      I was truly flattered that some folks had asked me to write a memoir. I keep thinking, who would want to learn about my boring life? My poetry and essays are much like a memoir in a way, just little bits at a time. Perhaps one day I’ll sit down and try to see if any of my experiences might be worth sharing in book form. It might be a good form of therapy to write about some of the incidents I haven’t talked about before, and maybe people out there could identify with what I’ve experienced and realize they’re not alone.

      I lost my mom in 2015 and my dad in 2017. During the last ten years of my mom’s life I lived at the family farm in Utah so I could help with her any way I could. I’ve been disabled for quite some time now and can’t work, so I was able to be there for her all the time. When she died, I moved to my present residence in Colorado. I have an older sister here in town, and a younger sister (estranged) who now lives at the farm, as far as I know. Our family was incredibly dysfunctional and all of us ended up with substantial issues of our own, so we’ve all struggled. My disability is comprised of deafness, major depression, PTSD, severe chronic insomnia and a bad back. I also experience numbness from my knees down and haven’t been able to drive for six years. Walking is often difficult. So, I rely on SSDI, Medicare/Medicaid and HUD housing to survive, all of which are currently under attack by this new administration. I’ll likely be homeless in a few months.

      I miss Oregon. My plans were to return and spend the rest of my life up there, but life got in the way and it never happened. I miss the ocean the most. I’m glad to know you get to spend a lot of time with your grandkids. Children keep us feeling young. While I don’t have kids of my own, I was able to spend a lot of time with my nieces and nephews when they were young. Happy times, indeed. 😊

      Thanks so much for your kindness, Miriam. Wishing you a good week ahead. 😊

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      1. Oh wow, Mike, thats your poem in Diana’s book! It’s beautiful. Thank you for sharing more about your life with me. My 7-year-old granddaughter has no school today. My husband and I are going to pick her up and do things with her. We’ll leave in a few miutes. I’ll comment more this evening. 🙂 Have a nice day, Mike. 🙂
        Diana lives about an hour drive north of me. We met along with two other bloggers before I moved to Portland. She came to see me once after I loved here. I have to have my cup of coffee before we go. Talk more this evening. 🙂

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  16. You said your older sister is in town. Do you live close to her and can she help you in any way? I hope it won’t come to a point to put you on the street, Mike! Please let us know when you sense something solid on its way.

    I glanced at the list of poems. Would you like to put them together for a book? I can help. I self-published three books.

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    1. Yes, I was totally honored when Diana asked if she could include my poem “Wisdom” in her book. What a wonderful gesture!

      My older sister and her family live one mile away. She’s very helpful in many ways. I’m not sure what will happen if things get worse, however. I read today that Social Security could begin experiencing “disruptions” in as little as thirty days. Millions of people could be affected. It’s a disaster.

      I replied to your email and I look forward to checking out the template you mentioned. Thanks so much, Miriam. 😊

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