Warp and Weft ~ Images and Words
Welcome to this archive of my published poetry, photography and art. Thank you for allowing me to share my creative passions with you, and for taking the time to visit. Please be kind, and do not copy any of the content on this site without permission and attribution. All rights reserved © Debbie Strange. I unfold my origami self / and swim into a lake of fire / washing my hair in ashes / the crane-legged words / of a thousand burning poems.
- Archive
- Articles/About
- Awards & Honours
- Images & Words
- Other Writing
- Photography Publications
- Poetry of Light Photography Exhibition
- Readings/Videos
- A Year Unfolding: Haiku
- Mouth Full of Stones: Haikai eBook
- Prairie Interludes: Haiku eChapbook
- Random Blue Sparks: Haiku
- The Language of Loss: Haiku & Tanka Conversations
- Three-Part Harmony: Tanka Verses
- Warp and Weft: Tanka Threads
Saturday, October 19, 2024
Ribbons, Volume 20, Number 2, Fall/Winter 2024
Talking About Strawberries All of the Time, Issue 13, October 2024
Password: Journal of Very Short Poetry, Issue 1.3, September 2024
Fresh Out: An Arts and Poetry Collective, October 2024
Fireflies' Light: A Magazine of Short Poems, Issue 30, October 2024
Daily Haiga: An Edited Journal of Traditional and Contemporary Haiga, October 2024
Saturday, September 28, 2024
Akita International Haiku Network, 2024
Runner-up
2022 British Haiku Society Awards
drifting sands
sometimes the poem
writes itself
1st Place
2023 Drifting Sands Wearable Art and Haiku Contest
cattle roundup
a charred bean can
full of rain
1st Place (Joint)
2024 Sharpening the Green Pencil Haiku Contest
marsh marigolds
dark waters patched
with light
Highly Commended
2023 New Zealand Poetry Society International Competition
at the moment
I became motherless
something
brushed against me
softer than a feather
1st Place
2022 British Haiku Society Awards
between the bones
of our barn
mucking out stalls
has never felt so holy
2022 Irish Haiku Society International Competition
so much I wanted
to teach you . . .
a blue jay's feathers
are not really blue
2023 San Francisco International Competition for Haiku, Senryu and Tanka
of your spinning wheel
a dusty web . . .
I never thought our lives
would so quickly unwind
2019 British Haiku Society Awards
prepare a star fruit
just so
the small galaxies
of grace in your hands
2019 British Haiku Society Awards
Cafe Haiku: The Magazine of the Cafe Haiku Group (Mumbai, Thane, Hyderabad and Chennai), 2024
To celebrate my ten years of publishing (after a lifetime of writing!), Rohini Gupta kindly invited me to share a haiga retrospective of my journey along the haiku path. For this initiative, I’ve created ten new haiga incorporating images from my abstract photography exhibition, The Poetry of Light. Though the subjects of these photographs are ordinary (fabric, jewellery, glass), they are transformed into dreamscapes by employing diffusion and shallow depth-of-field techniques. These blurred pictures represent my ongoing struggles with vision, and they have not been digitally manipulated. They also showcase the use of colour therapy in my daily art practice, which increases endorphin production, helping to mitigate the effects of chronic illness. The artworks fall into the non-representational tangential haiga category. For further information on the six recognized categories of haiga, please see: https://www.gendaihaiku.com/kacian/haiga.html
caging a winter sky
caribou bones
3rd Place, 2nd Annual “aha” Awards, 2014
This is one of my earliest published haiku, so it holds a special place in my heart. We have two ecotypes of woodland caribou in Manitoba, and the boreal woodland caribou is a threatened species.
a faded cap drifts
downriver
1st Place, Harold G. Henderson Awards, 2015
On one of our adventures in the Canadian Rocky Mountains, we discovered many cairns along the Athabasca River, with notes imploring hikers and canoeists to be on the lookout for a young man who had slipped over the waterfall and perished.
the sound of rabbits
nibbling night
Grand Prize, World Haiku Competition, 2016
I used to have a huge perennial flower garden, and keeping rabbits at bay could be a chore. When I discovered a nest of five baby cottontails in the leaf mulch under my rose bushes, I could hardly be angry at their mother!
flocks of snow geese
pull up the moon
1st Place, Autumn Moon Haiku Contest, 2017
This sketch-from-life haiku evokes fond memories. We were camped beside a lake in mid-autumn. A huge harvest moon was on the rise, accompanied by the soft calls of snow geese overhead. Their loose skeins gave the appearance of reins, pulling the moon out of the water.
frozen trough
I cup the warm breath
of my horse
1st Place, Sharpening the Green Pencil Haiku Contest, 2018
“Rival” is a special Percheron draft horse in my life, whose charcoal gray coat is spattered with white stars. He is powerful, yet gentle, and when he snuffles his warm breath against me, I feel at peace with the world.
alpenglow
a pika gathers stems
of light
Commended, Little Iris Haiku Contest, 2019
We’ve only had the good fortune of seeing a wild pika once, but what an experience it was! The light was turning the mountains to rose-gold, when we heard a squeak coming from behind some rocks. A little “rock rabbit” appeared, with a mouth full of backlit plant stems to add to its “haystack” of food.
prairie town
rusted rails lead us
into sunrise
Museum of Haiku Literature Award, Blithe Spirit, Volume 30, Number 2, 2020
As anyone who has lived in a small prairie town will tell you, walking on the rails is almost a rite of passage! There is something compelling about the way they beckon you into the distance, sparking imagination as to what might be ahead.
fireflies the synchronicity of it all
1st Place, Irish Haiku Society International Haiku Competition, 2021
Whilst lingering around our campfire, mesmerized by bright sparks illuminating the dark night, we noticed that not all of them were born of the flames. It was a wonderful experience to feel part of something so magical.
skinny-dipping the moon snail’s umbilicus
Runner-up, The David Cobb Haiku Award, 2022
Summers spent at the cottage with my sisters were happy times filled with love and laughter. One night while my mother kept watch, we girls frolicked in the moonlit water, naked as mermaids. We had to beat a hasty retreat, though, when we saw the lanterns of night fishermen winking at us!
drifting sands
sometimes the poem
writes itself
Winner, Drifting Sands Wearable Art and Haiku Contest, 2023
One of my favourite things to do when we are beachcombing is to write words and poems in the sand. I decorate them with leaves, feathers, stones, and shells, hoping that someone will find these little offerings before the tide rises.
The Haiku Foundation - Haiku for Parkinson's, September 2024
The Haiku Foundation: Haiku for Parkinson's Feature
Though I do not live with Parkinson’s, I have been diagnosed with Complex Regional Pain Syndrome, severe Fibromyalgia, and Essential Tremor, which share some of the same characteristics. When it became apparent that the efficacy of traditional pain management pharmaceuticals was negligible, I knew I had to concentrate my efforts on finding another method to help mitigate the debilitating effects of chronic illness. As many fellow sufferers will attest, we are generally open to alternative pain management methods to help reduce our reliance on medication. We often feel as though we have lost control of our lives. In my opinion, it is worthwhile to take whatever small steps we can to regain some power over the fight-or-flight response to trauma. My daily creative practice is a direct result of that challenge, and it has become both a healing and a meditative force in my life. I spend about five hours a day writing and making art, and this dedicated time continues to help me cope with symptoms and flares.