Monday, May 13, 2019

World Haiku Association, Number 15, 2019

Translated into Japanese


sepia postcards
from around the world
autumn leaves


weather vane
a horse leads us
toward home


snow mounds
the growing roundness
of her belly


Note: these haiku previously appeared in Brass Bell Haiku Journal

Tofino Poet Laureate - National Poetry Month Initiative, April 2019

Tofino Poet Laureate, Joanna Streetly, featured the following tanka on her blog for National Poetry Month Day 6 (April 6, 2019):


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

1st Place
2018 Tanka Society of America Sanford Goldstein International Tanka Contest

The Heron's Nest, Volume 20, 2018

snowed in the round silence of tumbleweeds


bulrushes
we lean into the songs
of blackbirds


carnival
the pink noise
of candy floss


The Cherita, February 2019

Issue: "the sound of water"


nostalgia

is woven into the fabric
of our conversations

hand-me-down memories
bringing comfort
to these old bones


I am

a daughter
of sea and wind

the saltation
of morning light
in my spindrift hair


my camera

languishes
inside a drawer

I feel the weight
of things even when
they are not here

NeverEnding Story, April 2019

Translated into Chinese by Chen-ou Liu:


transience . . .
petal by petal
we let go

Winning Haiku (Canada)
2017 Vancouver Cherry Blossom Festival Haiku Invitational


Chen-ou Liu's comments: (excerpted from the judges' commentary)

"Transience encloses the world without and within each of us. Because we feel more secure when we have a sense of predictability, we develop a great capacity for denying a simple truth: that nothing stays the same. That can be a challenge, but the gentleness of "petal by petal" reminds us that we'll be just fine..."



Human/Kind Journal, Issue 1.5, May 2019



GUSTS, Number 29, Spring/Summer 2019

Honoured to have a lovely review of Three-Part Harmony: Tanka Verses included in this issue. It may be accessed on the "Books and Reviews" page of this blog. My gratitude to Maxianne Berger!


the gleam
of copper birches
in sunlight . . .
she wears her wounds
with gravitas


rainbows
spin from the crest
of a wave . . .
I wish we'd had more
time to say goodbye


the borrowed
identities of frogs
and butterflies . . .
sometimes she cannot
recognize my face




Fresh Out: An Arts and Poetry Collective, April 2019




#FemkuMag: An E-zine of Women's Haiku - Issue 11, April 2019

wolf moon light falls across your still face


social
constructs
evergreens
bowed
down
with
snow


Dad's books . . .
the thumbprints of who
he used to be

Failed Haiku - A Journal of English Senryu, Vol. 4, Issue 41, May 2019






Daily Haiku Charlotte Digregorio's Writer's Blog, April 2019

rapid transit
the coming and going
of magnolias

Judges' Favorites
Golden Triangle Haiku Contest, 2018


rusted bucket
cherry blossoms patch
every hole

2nd Place
Second International Ohanami Haiku Contest, 2016


wild iris
a familiar song
in its throat

Readers' Choice Awards, 2018
Shamrock Haiku Journal

Daily Haiga: An Edited Journal of Traditional and Contemporary Haiga, April 2019

Featured Artist: April 20, 2019




Note: tanka first published by Mariposa 38, Spring/Summer 2018







Chrysanthemum, Number 25, April 2019

Translated into German





Acorn, Number 42, Spring 2019

weathered oars
we fold our worries
into the river

Friday, April 05, 2019

The Heron's Nest, Vol. 21, Number 1, March 2019

heirloom hollyhocks
I still see father kneeling
in a patch of light


The Haiku Foundation, March 2019

Haiku Music Challenge Number 7 - March 4, 2019


The Haiku Foundation chose three of their favourite compositions from the Naviar Records Haiku Music Challenge for the following poem:

transience . . .
petal by petal
we let go

Best Haiku, Canada
2017 Vancouver Cherry Blossom Festival Haiku Invitational




The Cicada's Cry: A Micro-Zine of Haiku Poetry, Winter 2018

silent night
the first tick of snow
against our tent


The Cherita, January 2019

Issue: "whisper me free"


snow-lit grove

with chickadees perched
on our palms

you kiss me
softly on my forehead
like a blessing


equinox

otters chirp
to each other in passing

even the smallest
moments of grace
sustain me


deserted beach

a tangled fort
of burnished driftwood

empty now,
except for shadows
and possibilities


I cast the runes

in search of something
indefinable

they tell me
I must learn to make
my own magic

A Cherita Lighthouse Award

The Cherita, November 2018

Issue: "snow ghosts" (honoured to have this title taken from my cherita)


snow ghosts

shape-shifting
across the tundra

we reveal ourselves
to each other
a little at a time


The Bamboo Hut, Spring 2019

fog settles eventually all things become nothing


morning chill
two ladybirds trimmed
with pearls


the blue hour . . .
you slipped away
without a sound


a lodestar
glistens above
our bow
we follow the light
into breaking dawn


grief rides my back

like a cowboy
on a rank horse

spurs dug deep
into the flanks
of memory


Seashores - An International Journal to Share the Spirit of Haiku, Vol. 2, April 2019

bioluminescence
I skip a pebble across
the universe


Ribbons, Volume 15, Number 1, Winter 2019

the winter of my life


ice-bound,
a mosaic of leaves
suspended
between seasons
like frayed memories

I skate backward
through the rag-ends
of childhood,
a warm potato
in each mitten




My thanks to Pamela Babusci who mentioned the following poem in her Tanka Journey feature in this issue:


a halo around
the long night moon . . .
I find
another strand
of mother's light

Winner
10th Annual Moonbathing Contest




A Hole in the Light: The Red Moon Anthology of English-Language Haiku 2018

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


Red Lights, Vol. 15, Number 1, January 2019

I bandage
my sister's wounds
with rose petals,
crooning our mantra . . .
all will soon be well


in with the new

shorn fields
scintillate with frost
except
in the shadows
where antelope lie

we wait
for lake-effect snow
on the verge
of knowing something
that hasn't happened yet

winter camping
in the high country
I have been
too long without this
kinship of mountains

a phoenix
of northern lights rises
above the prairie . . .
bird without feathers,
song without sound

fat clusters
of snowflakes drift
toward earth
I wonder where life
will take us next year


Prune Juice, Issue 27, March 2019





Presence, Number 63, March 2019

glacial striation the omega wolf's many scars


flash freeze
an otter oozes down
the bank


star-nosed mole
we search for light
in dark places


ripe lemons
from a roadside stand
this afternoon
I will serve my old friend
an ice-cold glass of sun


NeverEnding Story, March 2019

Translated into Chinese by Chen-ou Liu:


she is suspended
between here and gone
a cobweb
catching the light
of this moth-winged life


A Hundred Gourds, 4:1, December 2014


Chen-ou Liu's comments:

Evaluated in the thematic context of this existential angst that manifests in Ls 1&2, the visually striking image in Ls 3-5 adds emotional weight and philosophical depth to the tanka.

Life is a frail moth flying caught in the web of the years that pass. (Sara Teasdale)


Naviar Records - Haiku Music Challenge 2019

Featured haiku February 20, 2019:

Please enjoy the music created in response to my haiku:



transience . . .
petal by petal
we let go

Best Haiku, Canada
2017 Vancouver Cherry Blossom Festival Haiku Invitational


Modern Haiku, Vol. 50.1, Winter-Spring 2019

leaf decay
deep shadows lit
by ladybugs


Kokako, Number 30, April 2019

savannah a dazzle of zebras kicking up moondust


limestone lake
sunlight changes the way
we look at things


vernal equinox . . .
rare snow snakes begin
to slither
from every branch until
only wet shadows remain


Human/Kind Journal, Issue 1.4, April 2019



Human/Kind Journal, Issue 1.3, March 2019

Found Poetry Issue



Human/Kind Journal, Issue 1.2, February 2019





Hedgerow Poems, Number 126, Winter 2019




Haiku Canada Review, Vol. 13, Number 1, February 2019

washboard road every now and again not


the healing balm
of new-fallen snow . . .
we crawl
into our quinzhee
and light a candle


Haigaonline, Vol. 20, Issue 1, Spring 2019

The Fire Challenge - Burning Fields Issue





Golden Triangle Haiku Contest 2019

Judges' Favourites:


wind gusts
the sudden chimes
of flag poles


Comments: This year we received nearly 2,000 entries from 50 countries and 41 states, and the District of Columbia...


Frogpond, Vol. 42.1, Winter 2019

wind-spun petals again my thoughts lead nowhere


steep gorge . . .
our voices spill across
the ages


#FemKuMag: An E-Zine of Women's Haiku - Issue 10, March 2019

labyrinth i walk into and out of myself

3rd Place Senryu, 2018 San Francisco International Competition


circles of lichen
I thought we would have
more time

3rd Place, 2018 Kaji Aso Studio Haiku Contest


split chrysalis
all the ways we learn
to become small

Museum of Haiku Literature Award, Blithe Spirit 26.1, 2016


transience . . .
petal by petal
we let go

Winner, 2017 Vancouver Cherry Blossom Festival Haiku Invitational


come quickly

the dandelion clocks
are running out of time

if we can make
a few more wishes,
father might come home

HM, 2018 Frameless Sky Mad About Cherita Contest


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

2nd Place, 2017 United Haiku and Tanka Society Fleeting Words Tanka Contest


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

1st Place, 2016 British Haiku Society Tanka Awards


#FemKuMag: An E-Zine of Women's Haiku - Issue 9, February 2019

ultrasound butterflies instead of a baby


organ
donation
living
someone
else's
best
life


a new year
how long before I stop
missing you


Failed Haiku - A Journal of English Senryu, Vol. 4, Issue 40, April 2019

Retrospective Issue



Thank you to Mike Rehling, the editor, for selecting this hagia and for his lovely comments below:

Debbie is a master at haiga. I don't know what the diagnosis is she is referring to, or if the poet is the one who has received it, but I do believe that dragonfly is indeed lucky for them. As least I want to believe it. The hints of color in the dragonfly may just be the poet's way of conveying her own feelings about the situation and imbuing the dragonfly with her own hope.



Failed Haiku - A Journal of English Senryu, Vol. 4, Issue 39, March 2019





Daily Haiga: An Edited Journal of Traditional and Contemporary Haiga, February 2019

Featured Artist: February 9, 2019





Note: tanka first published by GUSTS 27, Spring/Summer 2018



Creatrix Poetry and Haiku Journal, Number 44, March 2019

windblown seeds
refugees try to cross
the border


neon lights
a cardboard roof
sags with snow


Blithe Spirit, Vol. 29, Number 1, February 2019

frost-silvered
the withered garden
blooms with light


moonsongs
we drive deep
into the night


a waterfall
frozen in time . . .
I brush
mother's hair until
she falls asleep


thirty-five
types of snowflakes . . .
no one told me
that they would
all taste the same


Note: this issue also contains my selections and commentary for the Museum of Haiku Literature Award


Australian Haiku Society, 2019

Autumn Equinox Haiku String - March 21, 2019


backyard campout . . .
we fall asleep counting
the ghosts of stars


the flash
of a stranger's smile . . .
sun shower


office tower . . .
a peregrine nests outside
my window


Atlas Poetica, Number 36, February 2019

wintertide

glissading down
steep mountainsides . . .
we are horses
with our snowy tails
streaming in the wind

every year
winter casts its spell . . .
like children,
we are bewitched anew
by the signature of snow


the length of night

yet again,
sleep eludes me . . .
an owl and I
ponder the eternal
question of identity

insomnia . . .
mice at play
inside
the thin walls
of my dreams


girlhood

we brew tea
from the dark leaves
of cat's whiskers
but first, you tickle me
with their stamens

we chase
each other across
cloud shadows,
nothing under our feet
but this prairie sky

we once played
in this tangled garden,
enchanted
by the quiet fireworks
of bergamot and butterflies


The Mamba, Issue 7 - Africa Haiku Network, March 2019

a painted fan
the peacock rattles
its tailfeathers


the length
of a giraffe's tongue . . .
acacia thorns





Saturday, February 02, 2019

San Francisco International Competition for Haiku, Senryu and Tanka, 2018

a star tortoise
carries the universe
on its back . . .
are we slowly moving
away from each other

2nd Place Tanka


Judge Kenneth Slaughter's comments:

Tortoises and turtles are survivors. The star tortoise, however, is an endangered species because of its beautiful shell. Humans like to collect them. It's an earthbound creature that carries the symbolic weight of the universe on its back. There are many ways to go in lines 4 and 5, and the ellipses give us a moment to ponder the possibilities.

Scientists know the universe is expanding, and everything is moving away from everything else. The poet reminds of this and wonders if, on a human level, we are also drifting apart. The "we" could be a married couple. Or it could be all of us, as we struggle with alienation, loneliness, and a growing distance from one another. This is a very topical poem, suggesting a whole lot in just five lines.


small embers
of rose hips in snow . . .
the look
in mother's vacant eyes
so hard to define

3rd Place Tanka


labyrinth i walk into and out of myself

3rd Place Senryu


Judge Christopher Herald's comments:

Yes! Both! Love it!



Under the Basho, 2018

Haiga Gallery









Wales Haiku Journal, Winter 2018



Of Love and War and the Life In Between, Tanka Society of America Members' Anthology 2018

overnight,
filaments of hair ice
grow longer . . .
how tenuous these threads
that bind us to each other

Ink Sweat and Tears - The Poetry and Prose Webzine - December 2018

The Twelve Days of Christmas Feature

Ninth Day, December 30, 2018


fog deepens
the sound of rabbits
nibbling night

Grand Prize, 2016 World Haiku Competition


on the tundra
caging a winter sky
caribou bones

3rd Place, 2014 UHTS Hortensia Anderson Haiku Awards


snowy field
the owls we thought
were stones

HM, 2017 Irish Haiku Society International Haiku Competition


Scryptic - Magazine of Alternative Art, Issue 2.4, December 2018






NeverEnding Story, January 2019

Translated into Chinese by Chen-ou Liu:


glassy lake
flocks of snow geese
pull up the moon

1st Place, 2017 Autumn Moon Haiku Contest


Excerpted from the commentary provided by the Judge, Bruce Ross:

Many haiku have been written about the effect of moonlight and the moon's reflection. This haiku is unique and highly poetic in its expression.


Jalmurra, January 2019

In celebration of Bee Week:

January 21, 2019


wildflowers
beside the dock . . .
diving bees

Chuffed Buff Books - Kigo: Seasonal Words, Issue 2, Summer 2014


time
drips from my fingertips
slowly
in the honeyed moments
of a thousand bees

Bright Stars Tanka Anthology, Number 4, January 2014




(the haiku embedded in the above haiga originally appeared in Creatrix Poetry and Haiku Journal, Number 38, August 2017)




(the haiku embedded in the above haiga originally appeared in Brass Bell, March 2017)




(the haiku embedded in the above haiga originally appeared in The Bamboo Hut, August 2016)






#FemKuMag: An E-Zine of Women's Haiku - Issue 8, January 2019

bitter(n) she extends her beak into everyone's business


white rhino
the text I meant
to send

Failed Haiku - A Journal of English Senryu, Vol. 4, Issue 38, February 2019



Failed Haiku - A Journal of English Senryu, Vol. 4, Issue 37, January 2019







Ephemerae, Volume 1C, November 2018

aspen grove
he fills his pockets
with pirate gold


a spider web
strummed by soft breezes . . .
we can
almost hear the song
of morning dew





Bottle Rockets, Vol. 20, Number 2 (or #40), February 2019

dripping eaves
new music composed
of old snow

Asahi Haikuist Network, January 2019

Christmas skates . . .
a rainbow of little boots
in the warming hut

Fuga No Makoto: Ten Years of the World Haiku Review (Tenth Anniversary Edition Book 1), 2019

ice fog
everything familiar
unfamilar

fireflies
so many reasons
to shine

crescent moon
a scar on the curve
of your belly

dewfall
the weight of light
on bent grass

mending fences
the scent of sagebrush
on your fingers