Sunday, December 16, 2018

Wales Haiku Journal, Autumn 2018

The Bamboo Hut: Hands Across the Water - A Journal of Collaborative Poetry, December 2018

a poetry of place collaborative rengay

by Michael Dylan Welch (in normal type) and Debbie Strange (in italics)

Winnipeg Wind

Portage and Main—
the wind whipping snow
after my missed bus

Assiniboine Forest at dusk
a deer flicks its tail

in the ruin
of St. Boniface Cathedral
a crushed snail

another heatwave—
Leo Mol nudes recline
in the garden

the Golden Boy
still pointing north

at Fort Whyte
the snowshoe tracks
of humans and hares

 This rengay also appears on Michael's site at

New Zealand Poetry Society International Poetry Competition 2018

The Unnecessary Invention of Punctuation - NZPS Poetry Anthology 2018

the kestrel catches
a piece of sky

Highly Commended
New Zealand Poetry Society International Poetry Competition 2018

sixteen hands full
of stars

New Zealand Poetry Society International Poetry Competition 2018

Note: the above two haiku were included in the Wellington Japanese Festival promotion

The following haiku were also selected for the anthology:

prairie wind
our old barn lets in
a little more light

rusted rails
a meadowlark with the sun
in its throat

desert chill
mustangs chase the sun
into a canyon

Scryptic - Magazine of Alternative Art, Issue 2.3, October 2018

Irish Haiku Society, International Haiku Competition 2018

dead orchard
the random blue sparks
of woolly aphids

3rd Prize
11th IHS, International Haiku Competition 2018


over 300 entries judged blindly by Anatoly Kudryavitsky

Yuki Teikei Haiku Society, 2018

we lie on our backs
the Milky Way arcs beyond
our understanding

Honourable Mention
Tokutomi Haiku Contest 2018

Under the Basho, 2018

Personal Best

transience . . .
petal by petal
we let go

Winning Haiku, Canada - 2017 Vancouver Cherry Blossom Haiku Invitational

Modern Haiku

soft rain
the lily and I with stars
in our throats

wet leaves seal the holes
in his boots

out-breath . . .
a sheet of glass falls
from my paddle

rush hour
the quiet helicopters
of maple seeds

rolling thunder
kiss-curls at the base
of your neck

office windows
the mountains will wait
for me

the blue eyes
of African daisies
how I miss you

pond ice
the things we lost
last summer


early thaw
the morning chimes
of waxwings

hoodoo spires . . .
a buck's antlers tinged
with sunset

shell fragments
the chirps of otters
in the dark

The Heron's Nest, Vol. 20, Number 4, December 2018

snowed in the round silence of tumbleweeds

The Haiku Foundation, November 2018

A Sense of Place: Hiking Trail - Touch (selected by Kathy Munro November 21, 2018)

walking sticks
the earth's pulse
in my hands

The Cherita, September 2018

Issue: "taste of rain"

never mind

the wind has
a wild temper, too

but after every storm
it remembers
how to sing a lullaby

spiders know how

to make something
out of nothing

I long to find
the will to reinvent

Stardust Haiku, Issue 23, November 2018

a star on the tip
of its beak

Skylark, Vol. 6, Number 2, Winter 2018

the folded wings
of blue butterflies
appear drab
sometimes we overlook
our own brilliance

I meet
the yellow gaze
of a she-wolf
how primal this need
for connection

the egg sacs
of pirate spiders
d a n g l e
like golden lockets
full of promises

Note: This issue also contains a lovely review of Three-Part Harmony: Tanka Threads by Jenny Ward Angyal which may be accessed via the "books and Reviews" page of this blog.

Ribbons, Volume 14, Number 3, Fall 2018

the ocean
was in a rage last night
but today,
these peace offerings
of blue mussels
and kelp

1st Place, 2018 Sanford Goldstein International Tanka Contest

on this night
of our awareness,
the aurora
brushes an ensō
across lake and sky

Honourable Mention, 2018 Sanford Goldstein International Tanka Contest

wheat fields
tousled by fingers
of wind
I tuck a strand of hair
behind your ear

Honourable Mention, 2018 Sanford Goldstein International Tanka Contest

Note: The judges' commentaries for the above winning tanka appear under the label
"Sanford Goldstein International Tanka Contest".

a tulip
overwhelmed with rain . . .
I will straighten my stem
and turn toward the sun

Presence, Number 62, November 2018

twilit slough
the black question marks
of herons

a wasp nest
unwinds in the wind . . .
letters from home

ebb tide
the coiled emptiness
of molluscs

we scramble
across the moraine
like wild things
moving to higher ground,
in search of something more

Otata, Issue 36, December 2018

a Blue Morpho unfolding the wingspan of sky

night runes a scattering of porcupine quills

eco-tourism the coming and going of tides

out of the blue three humpbacks breach into the blue

on the edge of enchantment autumn fog

Hedgerow Poems, Number 125, Autumn 2018

Print Edition

tanka first published in Blithe Spirit 28.2, May 2018

#FemkuMag: An E-zine of Women's Haiku - Issue 6, November 2018

barnacles cling to old pilings of grudges


Failed Haiku - A Journal of English Senryu, Vol. 3, Issue 36, December 2018

Eucalypt, Issue 25, 2018

there is solace
in everyday rituals . . .
water runs
like a river through
the canyon of my hands

Daily Haiku Charlotte Digregorio's Writer's Blog, December 2018

snow lantern
the fading glint
in her eyes

Selected Haiku
2016 Yamadera Basho Haiku Contest

Daily Haiku, Charlotte Digregorio's Writer's Blog, November 2018

longer days
I knight my sister
with an icicle

5th Honourable Mention
2018 Robert Spiess Haiku Competition

stark branches
the first flowering
of snowflakes

Award of Excellence
2015 World Haiku Association Commemorative Haiga Contest

Daily Haiga: An Edited Journal of Traditional and Contemporary Haiga, December 2018

Featured Artist: December 7, 2018

Note: tanka first published by Skylark 6.1, Summer 2018

Daily Haiga: An Edited Journal of Traditional and Contemporary Haiga, November 2018

Featured Artist: November 13, 2018

Note: haiku first published by Kokako 38, April 2018 in a slightly different form

Creatrix Poetry and Haiku Journal, Number 43, December 2018

harvesting night
an arc of moondust
from the auger

Blithe Spirit, Vol. 28, Number 4, November 2018

Honoured to receive the Museum of Haiku Literature Award for best of issue 28.3 (selected by Mary Weiler):

sun spider
I centre myself
in its web

At first I fell for the sweet alliteration in 'sun spider'. Then I looked it up. This is neither a spider nor a scorpion but a voracious little guy that can kill small vertebrates. Is she trying to intimidate him? Or maybe this is a form of meditation, centering herself. I had so much fun extrapolating around those eight little words!

Thank you for your comments, Mary!

storm watch
the sky crumples
in on itself

skeleton flowers
the things that rain

a loon dives
beneath the surface . . .
how clear
everything seems
in this moment

highland winds
ring the purple bells
of heather
as if to say, come home,
we are lost without you

Atlas Poetica, Number 35, November 2018

A lovely review of Stacking Stones: An Anthology of Short Sequences (ed. M. Kei) by Charles D. Tarlton.

The following sequence was included in the review:


in the space
between wakefulness
and dreaming
my sister sings songs
I have yet to write

my dreamscapes
haunted by green spirals
of aurora
these memories of you
conjured out of light

last night
I dreamt of things
this morning, my life
so dull and drear

night after night
this recurring dream
the universe
is telling me something
I do not understand

Asahi Haikuist Network, December 2018

fractal spirals
deer eat the broccoli
we planted

Akitsu Quarterly, Winter 2018

a cobweb where
my window was

kettle lake
a moment of calm
before the geese

fairy fire
goblets of fungi
full of light

(note: this haiga appears in a black and white format in the journal)

Saturday, November 10, 2018

United Haiku and Tanka Society, Fleeting Words Tanka Competition, 2018

Seedpods - October 2018 (e-newsletter of the UHTS)

I offer my thanks to judges Carole MacRury and Michael McClintock for honouring me with the following awards:

We are pleased to recognize the following tanka for their contribution to a literature we have come to love and which continues to attract readers and poets in diverse cultures around the world. The glory of such a wide forum is that, while nurturing what is held in common among people everywhere, it also invites individual, personal, and intimate expression of human experience.

These poems grabbed and held our attention through many readings, including re-readings of the entire roster of entries. We extend warm congratulations to the poets who wrote them. As a group, they represent a healthy, sincere, and growing engagement with tanka in contemporary poetry.

We are grateful to Sonam Chhoki and Marianna Monaco for coordinating and managing all the details that went into this annual event. They cheerfully provided us with all we needed at each step of the process.

a smudge
of blackbirds swirling
into evening . . .
how fluid the shape
of this sorrow

2nd Place

Judges' comments:

This well-constructed tanka uses sibilance to enhance the fluidity of the reading as well as the fluidity of the emotions shown through the image in the first three lines. This fine poem by Debbie Strange shows the power of understatement and the power of imagery to express deep emotions. It has that magic space where readers may enter with their own experiences. Deep sorrow, as most of us know, comes unexpectedly in dark, wave-like moments just like the "smudge of blackbirds swirling into evening". Every single word earns its place in this poem.

snow whirls
outside the henhouse . . .
father cups
my hands around
a warm brown egg

3rd Place

Judges' comments:

A sensory poem that takes us from whirling snow, straight into the warmth of a henhouse, the warmth of a father/child relationship, and the warmth of a freshly gathered brown egg. Debbie Strange's use of "cups" gives a wonderful tactile sense and understanding to this moment's magical combination of both fragility and solidness—of the brown egg, and of the love palpably felt between father and child. All is fused in one powerful image. That is quite a feat. The winter metaphor in the first line could also allude to the day when the child will draw sustenance from this warm memory long after the father is gone.

I carry
an ocean within
my pocket . . .
this blue lace agate
etched with ancient tides

Honourable Mention

Judges' comments:

...Finally, Debbie Strange writes a tanka that holds time itself in a pocket, a vast cycle of geological processes and change, as shown through a blue agate etched by the tides.

(note: there were 270 entries from 18 countries)

Vancouver Cherry Blossom Festival, Haiku Invitational, 2018

first light
the unfolding songs
of sakura

Honourable Mention
Sakura Award, Canada

TS Poetry, Every Day Poems, October 2018

a black purse of sky
unclasped and spilling silver
I hold out my hands

(this small poem previously appeared in the now defunct publication, VerseWrights - TS Poetry maintains an archive of poems published in the journal)

Tinywords, Issue 18.2, November 2018

Poem without art previously appeared in Creatrix 39, November 2017

The Cherita, August 2018

Issue: "pieces of sky"

if you are willing

we could begin
our story at its end

taking comfort
in knowing that this
is a love for the ages

we were deer

wearing antlers of twigs
and feathers

moving through
wheat fields in the skins
of our innocence

Stardust Haiku, Issue 22, October 2018

fields of lupine
where does the sky

Seashores - An International Journal to Share the Spirit of Haiku, Vol. 1, October 2018

jack pines
the arthritic shape
of wind

crescent moon
the hand-carved ribs
of our canoe

Prune juice, Issue 26, November 2018

Mariposa, Number 39, Autumn/Winter 2018

dusk-to-dawn the low anthems of great grey owls

fallow fields a light dusting of snow geese

through a winter garden
of frost flowers . . .
there is a certain grace
in learning how to fall

Honoured to have "Snowy Owl" appear in this issue!

Folded Word, September 2018

Equinox Series Selection - sunrise

each autumn
this dead willow tree
sways with life,
pale limbs iridescent
with throngs of grackles

#FemkuMag: An E-zine of Women's Haiku - Issue 5, October 2018

windfall we harvest the apples of our discord


NeverEnding Story, October 2018

Translated into Chinese by Chen-ou Liu:

rusted bucket
cherry blossoms patch
every hole

2nd Place, The Bulgarian Haiku Union, Second International Haiku Contest, 2016

Chen-ou Liu's comments:

The visual contrast between a rusted bucket with holes and cherry blossoms sharpens the thematic focus of fleeting beauty.

A fresh and interesting haiku about cherry blossoms!

Halibut, October 2018

Haiku Canada Review, Vol. 12, Number 2, October 2018


Honoured to be the featured artist for this issue!

Frogpond, Vol. 41.3, Fall 2018

moonlit tent
the faint white noise
of a waterfall

Honoured to have "Frog Whimsy" appear in this issue!

Failed Haiku - A Journal of English Senryu, Vol. 3, Issue 35, November 2018

Daily Haiku, Charlotte Digregorio's Writer's Blog, October 2018

how your wings
carry me

Cattails, January 2014
also published in the haiku collection, A Year Unfolding, (Folded Word 2017)

Cirrus: tankas de nos jours, Number 10, October 2018

selected triptychs from Three-Part Harmony: Tanka Threads translated into French by Mike Montreuil

all winter

f i n a l l y
the river trail freezes
our ski tracks
the only graffiti
in this whitewashed city

the sound of tires
squeaking on new snow
a winter bird
rises from her rest
fluffing up her feathers

the neighbours
hibernate all winter
e m e r g i n g
into their backyards
like white-throated sparrows


the soughing
of willows in night wind
how gentle
the songs of daughters
tending to their mother

the sweater
mother knit for me
a rainbow
fading at the edges,
her evanescent life

the growth rings
of otoliths and trees
when did she
become smaller
than her daughters


a junkyard
of abandoned cars
once, well-loved
these skins shedding flakes
of other people's lives

rusted train tracks
over abandoned prairie
beckon us into the light
until we become blind

stacked in one room
of the abandoned house
unmatched chairs
we invent a new ending
to our own story

Wild, British Haiku Society Members' Anthology 2018

smoky sunset
the lake's shape defined
by geese

Asahi Haikuist Network, October 2018

wildfires . . .
the morning sun
a red beacon

Acorn, Number 41, Fall 2018

season's end a loon stirs sunset into the lake

Sunday, October 14, 2018

Daily Haiga: An Edited Journal of Traditional and Contemporary Haiga, October 2018

Featured Artist: October 12, 2018

Note: tanka first published by Red Lights 14.1, January 2018

Daily Haiga: An Edited Journal of Traditional and Contemporary Haiga, September 2018

Featured Artist: September 20, 2018

Note: tanka first published by Cattails, April 2018

Cattails, October 2018

smoky wind . . .
snow geese where
the grain was

dementia . . .
all the memories
we wish she had

this prairie
cradles the bones
of my sister . . .
I sing her a song
about magpies and wind

the dark sky
above this mountain
a haven
for orphaned stars,
lost among neon lights

The Haiku Foundation, September 2018

A Sense of Place: Meadow/Field - Sight (selected by Kathy Munro September 19, 2018)

high winds
geese side-slip toward
the stubble field

The Cherita, July 2018

Issue: "i find one cloud"

crowned with sage

my sister waits for me
among the hills

while prairie voles
make nests between
her bones

Stardust Haiku, Issue 21, September 2018

deserted farm . . .
fields of stars ripen
in the cupola

Shamrock Haiku Journal 2012-2018

Number 31, June 2015

a muskrat
sequins of sun ripple
the silence

Number 34, June 2016

shining wind the halt and sway of evergreens

frosted dawn
crows spill across
the horizon

Number 36, February 2017

webs of rain connect
the thistles

Number 40, September 2018

peat bog
the spreading fire
of cloudberries

frost settles . . .
many moons dot
the dark field

wild iris
a familiar song
in its throat

Shamrock, Number 40, September 2018

peat bog
the spreading fire
of cloudberries

frost settles . . .
many moons dot
the dark field

wild iris
a familiar song
in its throat

Presence, Number 61, July 2018

each ram's horn nearly thirty pounds of fibonacci

abandoned farm furrows of clouds spilling rain

a bald eagle . . .
burnt branches edged
with snow

this pain
written between the lines
on my brow
you read me tenderly
with your fingertips

One Man's Maple Moon: 66 Selected English-Chinese Bilingual Tanka, Volume 4, 2018

Translated into Chinese by Chen-ou Liu

frazil ice
on a mountain lake
at breakup
the tinkling chimes
signal your departure

A Hundred Gourds, 4:2, March 2015

NeverEnding Story, September 2018

Translated into Chinese by Chen-ou Liu

tracks of birds
meander through snow . . .
the surgeon
marks her left breast
with a cross

1st Place, Tanka Section, 2016 British Haiku Society Awards

Chen-ou Liu's comments:

excerpted from Caroline Skanne's (Judge) commentary accessed via the British Haiku Society Awards label of this blog...

The Mamba, Issue 6 - African Haiku Network, September 2018

empty well . . .
the steady thrum
of katydids

the fragrance
of dark roast coffee . . .
morning rituals

Modern Haiku, Vol. 49.2, Summer 2018


longer days
I knight my sister
with an icicle

Fifth Honourable Mention
Robert Spiess Memorial Haiku Award Competition for 2018

Judge's Comments:

A sense of delight pervades this haiku. The days are growing longer, but the ice hasn't melted yet. Here two children are playing outside, and one of them "knights" the other, using an icicle like a sword to invest a "knighthood" upon the other. Just as the "longer days" tell us that spring is coming, so too does this poem's playful and imaginative zeal. This poem, as with all good haiku, lets things become what they are, and as readers we join the celebration.

—Michael Dylan Welch

#FemkuMag: An E-zine of Women's Haiku - Issue 4, September 2018

mirror fog I let you see my soft side


Kokako, Number 29, September 2018

first snowfall a tumbleweed comes to rest

by a nor'easter
our old skiff
shrugs off its moorings
like an apology

the plumage
of Mandarin ducks
we can
only dream of wearing
finery such as this

Hedgerow Poems, Number 124, Summer 2018

Print Edition

Four Hundred and Two Snails, Haiku Society of America Members' Anthology 2018

light the woodland . . .
we find our way

Winner (Month of May)
2017 Snapshot Press Haiku Calendar Competition

Haigaonline, Vol. 19, Issue 2, Autumn 2018

The Rock Challenge

GUSTS, Number 28, Fall/Winter 2018

autumn winds
invade our trees
day by day
cathedral shadows
surrender to the sun

winter sunset . . .
the ice beneath
our skates
becomes a river
of molten gold

waves lap
gently upon the shores
of my sorrow . . .
she birthed me into water,
as I now deliver her

Failed Haiku - A Journal of English Senryu, Vol. 3, Issue 34, October 2018

Ephemerae, Volume 1B, August 2018

a torn web
the wind carries
father home

desert trail
sun-bleached bones
at the end

Chrysanthemum, Number 24, October 2018

Translated into German

Blithe Spirit, Vol. 28, Number 3, August 2018

snowfire a fox takes shelter in the curl of its tail

sun spider
I centre myself
in its web

the language of loss

the last herd
of grey ghost caribou
nearly extinct
I hold your hand
until you disappear

we offer her
to the warm earth
in a silence
more eloquent than any
language of loss

above the coulee
an antelope
lies down beside
my sister

Stacking Stones: An Anthology of Short Tanka Sequences, August 2018


snow falling
across the Sahara
at sunset
you give me pink crystals
of ancient desert roses

in the lee
of this sacred mountain
our breath rises
mingling with clouds
until we fall as snow


I tried
to make you fall in love
with the sea
but you were never fond
of heavy weather

amidst the flotsam
and jetsam of this life
we salvage
our brightest memories
before they turn to rust


we are fledglings
leaping into this world
with open arms
trusting that the sedges
will soften our fall

wood duck hens
remember the place where
they first took flight
home means something
different to us all


in the space
between wakefulness
and dreaming
my sister sings songs
I have yet to write

my dreamscapes
haunted by green spirals
of aurora
these memories of you
conjured out of light

last night
I dreamt of things
this morning, my life
so dull and drear

night after night
this recurring dream
the universe
is telling me something
I do not understand


black swans
softening the edges
of my darkness
I gather threads of light
unspooling in their wake

the green curl
of a rolling wave
enfolds me
at this tunnel's end
an amazement of light

long after
my time of drowning
I remember
sea anemones
winnowing the light

Atlas Poetica Special Feature, September 2018

Dream Alchemy

we hold hands
as we fall into sleep,
shared dreams
at the confluence
of our fingertips

Note: Over the course of 42 years of marriage, my husband and I have shared several instances of what we call "mind melds" while we sleep!

Atlas Poetica Special Feature, September 2018

25 Rhyming Kyoka

street dancers
with body-popping pecs
strutting their stuff
like grouse on sunrise treks
luring hens to dusty leks

Atlas Poetica, Number 34, September 2018

cold cases

we avoid
the place in which
they found you
but our thoughts
often take us there

we do not
want to think of you
in this way
but we remember
because we must

(tanka sequence in memory of cousins D and J, murdered five decades apart)

Saturday, September 01, 2018

Yamadera Basho Memorial Museum English Haiku Contest 2018

10th Contest Selected Haiku Collection

dandelion seeds
I smooth mother's hair
across the pillow

hospice visit
a baby bird opens
its mouth

#FemkuMag: An E-zine of Women's Haiku - Issue 3, August 2018

stillborn . . .
I long to grow flowers
instead of stones


Scryptic - Magazine of Alternative Art, Issue 2.2, August 2018

Wales Haiku Journal, Summer 2018

a broken sphere
of allium

The Heron's Nest, Vol. 20, Number 3, September 2018

the pink noise
of candy floss

The Haiku Foundation, August 2018

A Sense of Place: Mountain - Sight (selected by Kathy Munro August 15, 2018)

mountain peaks the black holes between constellations

The Cherita, June 2018

Issue: "shadow dancer"

feather moss

the earth forgives
my feet

I, in turn,
can only offer
my allegiance

inner sanctum

finding myself lost
in thought

within this cathedral
of giant redwood trees,
I am but a mote of dust

Sonic Boom, Issue 12, August 2018

NeverEnding Story, August 2018

Translated into Chinese by Chen-ou Liu

fog deepens
the sound of rabbits
nibbling night

Grand Prize, 2016 World Haiku Competition

Chen-ou Liu's comments:

The opening line sets the scene while the unexpected yet visually and auditorily evocative and fresh last line makes the haiku emotionally effective, lifting it up a notch.

KYSO Flash, Issue 10, Fall 2018

Featured Artist:

Artist's Commentary

These images are from my series, The Other Side of Light, which juxtaposes the real with the surreal by exploring the light that is found in the shadows of photographic negatives, encouraging the viewer to find the extraordinary behind the ordinary.

Sea Anemone


Teasel Seed Heads



Parellel Universe


The following works were selected from this blog by the Editor, Clare MacQueen:

Excerpted from the tanka prose "The Detritus of Dust," which was published previously in Bright Stars Tanka Anthology (Keibooks; Volume 1, January 2014)

Published previously in Prune Juice (Issue 23, November 2017)

Published previously in Blithe Spirit (Volume 25, Number 4, November 2015)

Published previously in Lyrical Passion Poetry E-Zine (2013) as an Honorable Mention in their 2013 World Tanka Contest