Monday, August 02, 2021

New Zealand Poetry Society International Poetry Competition 2021

 My thanks to Simon Hanson, the judge of this contest!


the darkness
arrives on a thousand legs . . .
cosmic caterpillar

Highly Commended

#FemkuMag: haikai poetry by womxn and non-binary folx - Issue 30, July 2021

Honoured to receive 2nd Place in the 2021 Marlene Mountain Contest (for monoku)! My thanks to the judges, Lori A. Minor and Tia Haynes, for their sensitive commentary.


Fata Morgana the (in)visibility of my (dis)ability 

Commentary:

Not only are invisible illnesses difficult to live with because one is forced to convince others that they are sick, but some chronic illnesses can make one feel invisible due to the disconnect between those sick and their able-bodied friends and family. These illnesses are debilitating and isolating.

The brilliant use of parentheses parallels this by separating those who are seen and those who feel invisible, as well as disabled folx and those who are able-bodied. For those who are sick but still struggling to seek answers, Fata Morgana is all too familiar. The pain felt is real, but when the test results keep coming back normal, one can't help but feel stuck and just about end up gaslighting themselves. Not to mention those answers seem unreal and so far out of reach. We can also see the way Debbie possibly views herself, as one stuck as an optical illusion, living in society in one fashion and being unable to in another. This heartbreaking monoku calls us to hear and to see, to understand and develop compassion where it is most needed.


Other work included in this issue:


internal dialogue only one of us has anything to say


wild foxglove the poison lurking behind beauty standards


bristlegrass
you take offence
so easily


paper birch
to know the inner bark
of you




Wales Haiku Journal, Summer 2021

lily pollen
she loses the sense
of herself
 

The Tide Rises, The Tide Falls: An Oceanic Literary Magazine, July 2021

July 3, 2021


sea pebbles
glistening in the sun
we, too
lose more of ourselves
with every passing wave

Honourable Mention
2020 British Haiku Society Awards


July 4, 2021


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

Honourable Mention
2018 Fleeting Words Tanka Competition


July 5, 2021


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





 

The Haiku Foundation, Haiku Dialogue, July 2021

 "Paradigm Shift" prompts by Craig Kittner: the artifacts of wind


an egret's plume
the airs and graces
of wind

Yuki Teikei Haiku Society Haiga Tanabata Celebration, July 2021

Though I was unable to attend the virtual YTHS Haiga Tanabata Celebration, I was delighted to share this haiga:



 

The Cherita, April 2021

Issue: "a shadow of myself"


we built

staircases of books
in our bedroom

following each other
from one world
into the next


lost again

deep inside
the forest's magic

a flush
of fairy inkcaps
enchants me


my sisters and I

nestle like spoons
underneath the comforter

father keeps
our kittens warm
inside his pockets


 

Ribbons, Volume 17, Number 2, Spring/Summer 2021

(un)worthiness


a blue sand dune
discovered on Mars
the universe
gives me so much more
than I deserve

lost again
in the forest of mind
I tread warily
through macrocosms
of contrition

astronomers
describe a star's death
as spectacular
who is to say that
mine will not be so




 

Red Lights, Vol. 17, Number 2, June 2021

we had almost
forgotten how to smile . . .
a loveliness
of ladybugs spills down
the rotten fencepost


lamentations


I gently strum
a lark's bleached ribcage . . .
how long
have you lain here
with your mossy heart

we never
expect grief to come
calling . . .
will no one answer
the phone of the wind*


*An unconnected phone booth in Japan helps people cope with the loss of loved ones.




Presence, Number 70, July 2021

resident owl
the rabbits that lived
under our shed


thirsty
for all the little things
we've missed . . .
brackish water fills
an elf-cup stone


Droplets

rengay with Jennifer Hambrick & Debbie Strange


empty street
rain falling louder
then softer

    time slows down
    to a drizzle

dripping eaves
a lone house sparrow
takes shelter

puddles of light
a raccoon rinses
its hands

    a wash of stars
    keeping their distance

petrichor
the earth lets go
of its breath




 

Poetry Pea, July 2021

 The Haiku Pea Podcast


Series 4, Episode 14 - "Realistic Haiku", July 19, 2021


drought
the kestrel catches
a piece of sky

Highly Commended
2016 New Zealand Poetry Society International Competition


lantern light
becoming one
with the fog

Our Best Haiga: Black & White Haiga/Haisha, July 2021

Curated by Lavana Kray


July 10, 2021


(Note: this haiga was first published in colour in the Wales Haiku Haiga Gallery)

July 28, 2021


(Note: this tanka art was first published in Ribbons 14.2, Spring/Summer 2018)





 

NeverEnding Story, July 2021

Translated into Chinese by Chen-ou Liu:


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

Honourable Mention
2018 Fleeting Words Tanka Competition


Chen-ou Liu's Comments:

An implicit simile is effectively established between L2 and L4 in this visually and emotionally evocative and symbolically rich tanka.
 

Kontinuum: kortárs haiku_contemporary haiku, Volume 1, Number 1, July 2021

assigned gender the 25,000 sexes of split-gill mushrooms


generational trauma the uncertain heritage of seeds


Frogpond, Vol. 44, Number 2, Spring/Summer 2021

kingfisher
the river plunges
into itself

Frameless Sky, Issue 14, June 2021

bamboo flute
I trade my breath
with the wind


a newborn's smile the earth tilts


blackout
city streets illumined
by blossoms
 

Failed Haiku - A Journal of English Senryu, Vol. 6, Issue 68, 2021

 





Contemporary Haibun Online, Issue 17.2, July 2021

 Haiga Gallery: selected by Ron Moss





Brass Bell, August 2021

Theme: family and friends


tire swing
my sisters push me
into my comfort zone
 

A Fine Line: The Magazine of the New Zealand Poetry Society, Winter 2021

muddy banks
the brilliant plumage
of wood ducks


intersection
brisk winds usher me
across