Thursday, June 07, 2018

Kaji Aso Studio, 30th Annual Haiku Contest 2018

circles of lichen
I thought we would have
more time

Third Place

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

Featured Artist: May 1 - 17, 2018

I often use my photographs as the inspiration for writing short form poetry, and for making art in a variety of media (watercolour, ink, digital). During the creative process, I strive to produce images that enhance and expand the scope of my small poems, either implicitly or explicitly. After the hard work of writing haiku and tanka is done, I reward myself with the joy and freedom of making haiga, my favourite form of artistic expression!

Note: poem publication credits appear in the Daily Haiga archives.

The Haiku Foundation, HaikuLife Film Festival 2018

These haiga videos are comprised of previously published poems (with recitation) to celebrate International Haiku Poetry Day, an initiative of The Haiku Foundation, held April 17, 2018.

Watercoloured Words


a ragged curl
of birch bark fluttering
in the sun
even our smallest wounds
become limned with light

(tanka published in Red lights 11.1, 2015)

Becoming Water

listening deeply to the poetry of water i become a wave

(tanshi published in The Bamboo Hut Press, 2015)

The Haiku Foundation, Haiku Windows, May 2018

Windows prompt and selections by Kathy Munro - May 2, 2018

children's hospital
the window cleaner
dons his cape

The Haiku Foundation, re: Virals, May 2018

re: Virals 140 - May 18, 2018

The Haiku Foundation's weekly poem commentary feature on some of the finest haiku ever written in English. This week's poem was chosen by Mary Hanrahan:

cloudless sky
a pelican's pouch
full of light

Editors' Choices, The Heron's Nest 18.2 (June 2016)

The Haiku Foundation, Per Diem, April 2018

Selected by Jennifer Hambrick for April 26, 2018

porch swing
songs where we least
expect them

Modern Haiku, Volume 48.3, Autumn 2017

The Haiku Foundation, EarthRise Rolling Haiku Collaboration, April 2018

Theme:  Year of the Bird

glassy lake
flocks of snow geese
pull up the moon

1st Place, 2017 Autumn Moon Haiku Contest

cormorants . . .
we open our arms
to the sun

3rd Place, 2018 Jane Reichhold International Prize

snowy field
the owls we thought
were stones

Honourable Mention, 2017 9th Irish Haiku Society International Haiku Competition

last campout . . .
sandhill cranes call down
the northern lights

Honourable Mention, 2017 Robert Spiess Haiku Award

the whistle
of a wood duck . . .
her last breath

Honourable Mention, 2015 Betty Drevniok Award

the curve
of an avocet's bill . . .
sickle moon

Editor's Choice, Cattails (April 2017)

cloudless sky
a pelican's pouch
full of light

Editors' Choices, The Heron's Nest 18.2 (June 2016)

Unsealing Our Secrets, 2018

A Short Poem Anthology About Sexual Abuse - Women and Men Speak out - #MeToo

Alexis Rotella: Curator/Editor

Individual Tanka

a stranger's
snake hands fondle me
at the festival . . .
not even starshine
can light this darkness

stifling summer . . .
in this house of women,
we are inhibited
by the voyeur who lurks
beyond our open windows

a car filled
with catcalling men
follows me . . .
I long to walk alone
in the sweet evening air

office party . . .
the newly fallen snow
beckons me
away from searching eyes
and tongues and hands

a man leans
against the school fence
u n z i p p e d
I look up and pretend
to see a bird

The Cherita: Your Storybook Journal, Volume 1, Number 9, February 2018

Issue: "autumn deepens"

from open hands

the petals and leaves
on which I wrote your name

fall, one by one
behind me . . .
this is the way home

A Cherita Lighthouse Award

The Cherita: Your Storybook Journal, Volume 1, Number 10, March 2018

Issue: "now I listen"

it has been so long

since we last spoke
of anything at all

my questions drift
into the ether, and even clouds
don't know the answers

a new year

we will put the past
behind us

perhaps these
winter birds have come
to save us from ourselves

Stardust Haiku, Issue 17, May 2018

summer solstice
on the badger's back
a stripe of moon

Prune Juice, Issue 24, May 2018

This "peace lily" haiga was created in memory of a beloved haiku poet, Johnny Baranski (1948-2018):

The Heron's Nest, Vol. 20, Number 2, June 2018

we lean into the songs
of blackbirds

Hedgerow Poems - Vines, Issue 2, May 2018

Hedgerow Poems, Number 123, Spring 2018

Print Edition

lazy day dragonfly dreaming in the hammock

Mariposa, Number 38, Spring/Summer 2018

mother poses
with my older sisters
in the field
I am there, too,
but still invisible

wild roses
cascade over the gate
to our past
holding hands, we step
backward into childhood

A Far Galaxy, Haiku Canada Members' Anthology 2018

atlas moth
the places we thought
we'd go

Honourable Mention
2017 Jane Reichhold International Prize

Haigaonline, Vol. 19, Issue 1, Spring 2018

The Tree Challenge - Spring Grove Issue

Gnarled Oak, Issue 15, April 2018

Gift of Silence: A Haiku Tribute to Leonard Cohen, 2018

glassy lake
flocks of snow geese
pull up the moon

1st Place
2017 Autumn Moon Haiku Contest

Eucalypt, Issue 24, May 2018

rain chains
singing in our garden
calla lilies
open their pink mouths
to cup the hymn of spring

Ephemerae, Volume 1A, April 2018

the thin edge
between night and day
wild poppies

travel hostel
we unpack a pair
of ladybirds


I kneel
upon frost-rimed grass,
a song
nestled in the church
of my cupped hands

we are kin
to birds of passage
in far-flung places,
never quite at home

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

rimed fence
the cattle and wind
change direction

Honourable Mention
British Haiku Society Awards, 2017

cormorants . . .
we open our arms
to the sun

Third Place
Jane Reichhold International Prize, 2018

frozen trough
I cup the warm breath
of my horse

First Place
7th Sharpening the Green Pencil Haiku Contest, 2018

Creatrix Poetry and Haiku Journal, Number 41, June 2018

a dry spring
old stones blossom
in the field

Butterfly Dream: 66 Selected English-Chinese Bilingual Haiku, Vol. 4, 2018

Translated into Chinese by Chen-ou Liu

cloudless sky
a pelican's pouch
full of light

Editors' Choices, The Heron's Nest, 18:2, June 2016

rocky ledge
a wolf with the moon
in its mouth

Third Place, 7th International Irish Haiku Society Haiku Competition, 2015

Atlas Poetica, Number 32, May 2018

Tanka Sequences

shadows call to me

I walk
into the break of day
by sparrowsong
and your shadow

slanted light
caresses the ruins
at eventide
shadows call to me,
but I do not answer

the dark side

a portent
of dangerous times
anvil clouds
press the setting sun
under water

rainbow flares
of nacreous clouds
we are
easily seduced
by the dark side of beauty


farm auction . . .
we have nothing
left to lose
except these thistles
rooted in our hearts

rumours echoed
through the streets
of our town
nothing to do but  run
and we are running, still

the surest way

water reeds
trail from the paddles
of a bull moose
it is moments like this
that make me whole

of spirit bears lead me
to water
following a river
is the surest way home

Individual Kyoka

ladies who lunch . . .
two white-tailed deer
daintily sample
the fresh salad bar
in my garden cafe

Individual Tanka

you who were
made of brilliance
thank you
for the theory
of everything

(for Stephen Hawking)

Asahi Haikuist Network, April 2018

anniversary . . .
the necks of two swans
shape a heart

Acorn, Number 40, Spring 2018

frosty pasture
a small boy admires
the cow pies

Monday, April 16, 2018

ukiaHaiku Festival - The Sixteenth Annual, 2018

cormorants . . .
we open our arms
to the sun

Third Place
Jane Reichhold International Prize

Judge's Comments:

Cormorants are known to spread their wings, and I understand that the reason they do this is to dry them. Because they are water birds, they need to dry their wings often. Although this poem does not say the birds are spreading their wings, surely they are, and that is what prompts the people in this poem to spread their arms, perhaps to feel the warmth of the sun, if not to dry their arms. I enjoy the celebratory tone of this poem, of being open to the possibilities of life. We should all spread our wings like the cormorant.

—Michael Dylan Welch

(Note: there were over 1,400 entries to the contest)

Cattails, April 2018

dust plumes . . .
wild mustangs spar
with the moon

broken mirror . . .
still not as pretty
as my sister

rusty hinge
her first greeting
after surgery

it was
as if she were
a butterfly
the way words flew
from her open hands

the cyclical
nature of our lives
this year
we are rabbits
next year, lynx

The Zen Space, Spring Showcase 2018

The Heron's Nest, Volume 19, 2017

window fog
I write your name
on the moon

moonless . . .
a dark lake lit
with swans

rain squall
this rigmarole
of umbrellas

The Bamboo Hut, Spring/Summer 2018


sidewalk cafes
bloom on city corners
we plant
our winter bones
in any patch of sun

jazz concerts
in the sculpture garden
smooth strains
of tenor saxophone
waft across the river

the tangy scents
of propane and bug spray
these summer evenings
faint drifts of laughter

salsa dancing
under the canopy
bodies bend
to Latin rhythms
on this sultry night

we celebrate
our cultural diversity
all summer
street vendors tempt us
to eat and drink the world

Presence, Number 60, March 2018

city lights swallow the stars I long for

folds of prairie . . .
darkness rests upon
a doe's back

snow shadows
the conversations
of rabbits

this morning
the garden shimmers
with frost stars
I, for one, do not
mourn summer's passing

Kokako, Number 28, April 2018

thunderheads above the prairie red-tailed hawks

polar night
a snowy owl fades
to black

how tender
the kiss of snowflakes
upon my lips
these fragile wishes
that you were still mine

he bows
his cello like a prayer
for lost souls
music calls to us
across the abyss

Note: This issue also includes a lovely review of A Year Unfolding by Patricia Prime which may be accessed on the "Books and Reviews" page of this blog.

Gusts, Number 27, Spring/Summer 2018

fallen petals
spill from my basket
each one
a bruised and scented
poem for your pillow

sea spray
scattering the light . . .
you taught me
not to waste today's joy
on tomorrow's grief

Chrysanthemum, Number 23, April 2018

Translated into German

Sunday, April 01, 2018

The British Haiku Society Awards 2017

rimed fence
the cattle and wind
change direction

Honourable Mention

Judge's comments:

The Canadian poet Debbie Strange has lived with cattle, or spent just enough time watching them to intuit this simplest of poems. She observes a simple reflex of nature—on a cold day, cattle face away from the wind. Anyone who has spent time with them knows this. When the wind changes, they move. It only takes 11 syllables for the poet to teach us a lesson—move, don't agonize.

—Robert Moyer

Note: The contest received 549 entries.

Romanian Haiku Group, Sharpening the Green Pencil Haiku Contest

Translated into Romanian by Dan DOMAN

frozen trough
I cup the warm breath
of my horse

First Prize
The Seventh Haiku Contest
Sharpening the Green Pencil, 2018

Comments by Cezar Florin CIOBICA (translation by Ana DROBOT):

The winning poem drew me towards it due to the delicacy of the picture presented, through the close connection between man and animal. The horse and its master have set together on the road, and they stop for a moment to rest and drink water, but, because of the low temperatures the trough is frozen, so the animal cannot drink. The master, however, probably numb with cold, gets warmed somehow by catching the breath of the faithful animal in the palm of his hands.

The two parts of the poem harmoniously weave around the complementarity death-life (standing still versus animation) in a wintery landscape whose glacial stiffness the reader can feel through his skin, due, partly, to the alliteration of the consonant "r" which appears five times in the poem. It can be speculated that the man, being too old and tired, or even ill, is reanimated, and, why not, put back on his feet by the warm, miraculous breath of his horse.

And, what is even more beautiful, is the fact that this poem, through his props, has taken me back in time, making me see no one else but Basho himself nearby the trough, sliding down his narrow path towards the far north.

Scryptic - Magazine of Alternative Art: Best of 2017-2018 Anthology, 2018

The Cherita: Your Storybook Journal, Volume 1, Number 8, January 2018

Issue: "Winter, no fixed abode"

even when

words might seem
d i s c o n n e c t e d

you will find
a pattern to the way
of everything

beside a rubbing tree

where bears
leave their scent

I plant my feet
firmly in their prints,
and walk into the wild


galaxies drip
from your sleek pelt

I have always known
that you were made
of light

I talk to trees

this language
is not new to me

in every turning season,
another adjective
for love

A Cherita Lighthouse Award

World Haiku Review, March 2018

spindrift . . .
grief finally lets go
of me

Zatsuei Haiku of Merit
Vanguard Haiku Category

solstice . . .
gopher holes fill
with snow

Zatsuei Haiku of Merit
Neo-Classical Haiku Category

I've waited
long enough for you . . .
first snow

Zatsuei Haiku of Merit
Neo-Classical Haiku Category

World Haiku Association, Number 14, 2018

Translated into Japanese

on yellowed recipes
she is here, still

ginko walk
how extraordinary
this ordinary life

the hum of bees
I know every word
by heart

Wildflower Poetry Press: Wild Voices, Vol. 2 - An Anthology of Short Poetry & Art by Women

Sonic Boom, Issue 11, April 2018

Wales Haiku Journal, Spring 2018

hard frost
a pumpkin melts
into itself

winter light
a scrawl of skaters
on the river

Stardust Haiku, Issue 15, March 2018

daffodils . . .
we always lean
on each other

Snapshot Press, The Haiku Calendar Competition 2018

Award Runner-up - The Haiku Calendar Competition 2018 (for the month of October)

Publication - The Haiku Calendar 2019 (Snapshot Press 2018)

fading dreams . . .
the golden smoke
of tamaracks

Scryptic - Magazine of Alternative Art, Issue 1.4, March 2018

Please see my featured artist interview in this issue on the "Articles/About" page of this blog.