Translated into Bulgarian by Iliyana Stoyanova
rusted bucket
cherry blossoms patch
every hole
2nd Place
The Second International Haiku Contest, "Cherry Blossom", 2016
Saturday, April 23, 2016
Hedgerow Poems, Number 74, April 2016
Resident Artist
(for National Poetry Month)
These poems (without art) appeared respectively in the Bright Stars Tanka Anthologies (first two),
Undertow Tanka Review, and Gems Anthology.
(for National Poetry Month)
These poems (without art) appeared respectively in the Bright Stars Tanka Anthologies (first two),
Undertow Tanka Review, and Gems Anthology.
World Haiku, Number 12, 2016
Translated into Japanese
blood moon
one ripe strawberry
in a black bowl
winter bird
am I the only one
who knows your song
brewing ants
a rusted teapot
in the garden
Note: the above haiku previously appeared in Brass Bell Haiku Journal
blood moon
one ripe strawberry
in a black bowl
winter bird
am I the only one
who knows your song
brewing ants
a rusted teapot
in the garden
Note: the above haiku previously appeared in Brass Bell Haiku Journal
Award of Excellence, WHAC8 Commemorative Haiga Contest, September 2015
Under the Basho, February 2016
Hokku Category
painted gourds
purple martins sway
with the wind
northern lights
melting into the lake
a loon's quaver
bent grasses
the flattened shadows
of mule deer
Modern Haiku Category
spangled web
one thing holding
us together
painted gourds
purple martins sway
with the wind
northern lights
melting into the lake
a loon's quaver
bent grasses
the flattened shadows
of mule deer
Modern Haiku Category
spangled web
one thing holding
us together
The Haiku Foundation, EarthRise Rolling Haiku Collaboration, April 2016
Theme: Food Crops
harvest moon . . .
the cat's whiskers sparkle
with grain dust
cattails, January 2014
bumper crop
a grasshopper sky
all that remains
cattails, May 2015
empty chrysalis . . .
the summer snap
of sugar peas
Akitsu Quarterly, Summer 2015
a quiet field
and the loudness
of pumpkins
Prune Juice 14, November 2014
harvest moon . . .
the cat's whiskers sparkle
with grain dust
cattails, January 2014
bumper crop
a grasshopper sky
all that remains
cattails, May 2015
empty chrysalis . . .
the summer snap
of sugar peas
Akitsu Quarterly, Summer 2015
a quiet field
and the loudness
of pumpkins
Prune Juice 14, November 2014
NeverEnding Story, April 2016
Translated into Chinese by Chen-ou Liu
f i s s u r e s
and (whose) fault lines
cracking open
we try to mend the damage
of our quaking lives
Undertow Tanka Review 1, August 2014
Chen-ou's comments:
Combined with the effective use of space placement and (), the prefatory image is logically metaphoric or at least resonates closely with the emotional point of the poem.
f i s s u r e s
and (whose) fault lines
cracking open
we try to mend the damage
of our quaking lives
Undertow Tanka Review 1, August 2014
Chen-ou's comments:
Combined with the effective use of space placement and (), the prefatory image is logically metaphoric or at least resonates closely with the emotional point of the poem.
Mann Library, Cornell University, Ithaca, New York - March, 2016
Daily Haiku - Featured Poet for March, 2016
chinook wind
magpies bathing
in snowmelt
snow geese
a chevron tattooed
on the moon
square dancers . . .
the frosted ruffles
of flowering kale
on the tundra
caging a winter sky
caribou bones
geese unzip the sky
a snowflake trembles
on your eyelashes
blood-veined leaf
on your upturned palm . . .
these life lines
Perseid shower
the scent of tamarack
on the campfire
sleigh bells
the hayloft rustles
with deer mice
evening fog
antlers ghosting through
the coulee
stone cairns
a faded cap drifts
downriver
riding the sway-backed barn setting sun
red-tailed hawk
on a telephone pole . . .
the prairie listens
antelope
the humming of wind
in barbed wire
pussywillows
the swollen bellies
of feral cats
gone too soon
saura blossoms
my old friends
sun catcher
the flicker's tail
a yellow fan
summer camp
children sieve the sky
for tadpoles
in cupped hands
the harvest moon rests
for a moment
ancient lichen liver-spotted stones these hands
ice skating
on a bluebird day . . .
our winged feet
a dragon kite
carries the sun
in its mouth
chickadee
the sound of your name
on my tongue
rusted gate
old lilacs blooming
for no one
on a bridle path
the scent of apple blossoms
in my horse's mane
sea smoke
gulls fading into mountains
into sky
a wild sky
tethered to earth . . .
chain lightning
solar flares
a spill of buttercups
in the meadow
a muskrat
sequins of sun ripple
the silence
garden snail how you carry morning dew on your back
thunderheads
a squabble of crows
in the larch
spiderlings
the way life hangs
in the balance
Author Bio:
Debbie Strange is a Canadian short form poet and haiga artist. She is a member of the Writers' Collective of Manitoba and the Manitoba Writers' Guild, as well as several haiku and tanka organizations. Her writing has received awards, and has been translated, anthologized and published internationally. Debbie is an avid photographer whose images have been exhibited and published. Her other interests include singing, playing guitar, writing songs and gardening. Debbie's best "haiku moments" are those spent exploring nature with her husband in their lime-green 1978 Volkswagen camper named Ludwig Van. Every journey and every poem brings her closer to the world, and to herself.
(first publication and award credits appear in this blog's archive)
chinook wind
magpies bathing
in snowmelt
snow geese
a chevron tattooed
on the moon
square dancers . . .
the frosted ruffles
of flowering kale
on the tundra
caging a winter sky
caribou bones
geese unzip the sky
a snowflake trembles
on your eyelashes
blood-veined leaf
on your upturned palm . . .
these life lines
Perseid shower
the scent of tamarack
on the campfire
sleigh bells
the hayloft rustles
with deer mice
evening fog
antlers ghosting through
the coulee
stone cairns
a faded cap drifts
downriver
riding the sway-backed barn setting sun
red-tailed hawk
on a telephone pole . . .
the prairie listens
antelope
the humming of wind
in barbed wire
pussywillows
the swollen bellies
of feral cats
gone too soon
saura blossoms
my old friends
sun catcher
the flicker's tail
a yellow fan
summer camp
children sieve the sky
for tadpoles
in cupped hands
the harvest moon rests
for a moment
ancient lichen liver-spotted stones these hands
ice skating
on a bluebird day . . .
our winged feet
a dragon kite
carries the sun
in its mouth
chickadee
the sound of your name
on my tongue
rusted gate
old lilacs blooming
for no one
on a bridle path
the scent of apple blossoms
in my horse's mane
sea smoke
gulls fading into mountains
into sky
a wild sky
tethered to earth . . .
chain lightning
solar flares
a spill of buttercups
in the meadow
a muskrat
sequins of sun ripple
the silence
garden snail how you carry morning dew on your back
thunderheads
a squabble of crows
in the larch
spiderlings
the way life hangs
in the balance
Author Bio:
Debbie Strange is a Canadian short form poet and haiga artist. She is a member of the Writers' Collective of Manitoba and the Manitoba Writers' Guild, as well as several haiku and tanka organizations. Her writing has received awards, and has been translated, anthologized and published internationally. Debbie is an avid photographer whose images have been exhibited and published. Her other interests include singing, playing guitar, writing songs and gardening. Debbie's best "haiku moments" are those spent exploring nature with her husband in their lime-green 1978 Volkswagen camper named Ludwig Van. Every journey and every poem brings her closer to the world, and to herself.
(first publication and award credits appear in this blog's archive)
Kokako, Number 24, April 2016
country road
light smeared across
the horizon
gale warning
in the rugged highlands
wind-chafed
we count the sheep again
and think of emigrating
light smeared across
the horizon
gale warning
in the rugged highlands
wind-chafed
we count the sheep again
and think of emigrating
Hedgerow Poems, Number 72, April 2016
Resident Artist
These poems (without art) originally appeared in A Hundred Gourds.
Gusts, Number 23, Spring/Summer 2016
a corona
around the wolf moon's eye
looking deeply
into every shadow
I touch the pulse of night
the soughing
of willows in night wind
how gentle
the songs of daughters
tending to their mother
though nothing
more than hieroglyphs
these names inked
upon ancient stones
I carry them with me
around the wolf moon's eye
looking deeply
into every shadow
I touch the pulse of night
the soughing
of willows in night wind
how gentle
the songs of daughters
tending to their mother
though nothing
more than hieroglyphs
these names inked
upon ancient stones
I carry them with me
Failed Haiku - A Journal of English Senryu, Issue 4, April 2016
moonshine in mason jars firefly constellations
downed trees
a different view after
the argument
downed trees
a different view after
the argument
Atlas Poetica Special Feature, April 2016
I'll Be Home: Tanka on the Theme of Your True Home
unbidden
the memories flooding
my mind
for miles, looking backward
at a dollhouse in the mirror
unbidden
the memories flooding
my mind
for miles, looking backward
at a dollhouse in the mirror
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