Tuesday, December 31, 2019
Eucalypt, Issue 27, December 2019
fingers of barley
strum the prairie skies
in this heat
our bones become liquid
our minds become still
strum the prairie skies
in this heat
our bones become liquid
our minds become still
Blithe Spirit, Vol. 29, Number 4, November 2019
journey's end
the red eyes
of a loon
sunflower fields
I never knew yellow
until now
the slough
behind our farmhouse
viridescent
with mallard drakes
in praise of morning
the vibrant trills
of prairie meadowlarks
rising up
from every fence post,
these old familiar songs
the red eyes
of a loon
sunflower fields
I never knew yellow
until now
the slough
behind our farmhouse
viridescent
with mallard drakes
in praise of morning
the vibrant trills
of prairie meadowlarks
rising up
from every fence post,
these old familiar songs
Root, British Haiku Society Members' Anthology, 2019
beachcombing . . .
a fossil emerges
out of extinction
a fossil emerges
out of extinction
Hedgerow Poems, Number 129, Autumn 2019
Note: haiku first published in Modern Haiku 50.3, Autumn 2019
Naviar Records - Haiku Music Challenge 312, 2019
Featured Haiku December 25, 2019
Please enjoy the music created in response to my haiku:
frozen trough
I cup the warm breath
of my horse
1st Place
2018 Sharpening the Green Pencil Haiku Contest
Please enjoy the music created in response to my haiku:
frozen trough
I cup the warm breath
of my horse
1st Place
2018 Sharpening the Green Pencil Haiku Contest
#FemkuMag: An E-zine of Womxn's Haiku - Issue 19, December 2019
Guest Editor: Elizabeth Alford
snow shadows we find a deeper meaning
polar
night
the
hospital
corridor
even
longer
freezing rain . . .
every worry doubles
in size
snow shadows we find a deeper meaning
polar
night
the
hospital
corridor
even
longer
freezing rain . . .
every worry doubles
in size
The Bowerbird Tanka Group - 21st Bowerbird Tanka Workshop, November 30, 2019
I extend my deep gratitude to Julie Thorndyke for the following generous and sensitive commentary:
stubble fires
scarred fields under siege
we surrender
to the acrid breath
of smoking dragons
Cattails, January 2014
"When I read this poem for the first time, it gave me shivers up my spine. No doubt it is because in Australia we are in the grip of early bushfires: a spring in which even rainforests are burning, and koalas are dropping from heat in a scarred landscape which no longer resembles the lush seaside towns of our childhood summer holidays.
stubble fires
scarred fields under siege
Debbie Strange is writing about specific agricultural fields but for me they are the country landscapes of memory, brought to mind through the poet's use of sibilance and the hard, consonant sounds of 'f's and 'b' and 'd' and 'c/k'. The metaphor of the dragon representing fire is traditional, but the specific mention of "acrid breath" makes the image very real and reinforces for me the allusion to lost childhood places. The terrible smell after the bushfire. The desolation brought by a monster more real than Smaug himself. The word 'siege' represents the battle between nature and man, as in Tolkien's mythical war. How I wish that our native trees were able to mobilize, like Ents, and carry our wildlife to safety.
But no: the third line, the classic tanka pivot, is chilling: "we surrender". Hope is gone. We accept the dragons' power. It is a death scene.
I have never met Debbie Strange, except on the pages of tanka journals. I have learned that her words are elegant and piercing, and often they provide that little emotional jolt that make tanka such a powerful form of poetry. Here she uses a clasic tanka shape; fewer than 31 syllables; there is a rhythm in the lines and a build-up to line 5 and the drama of the dragon image.
There is plenty of room for wondering in this poem. Smoke can be used as a tool, and perhaps that is another message that readers could glean from these words. The mark of an effective tanka is that there is space for readers to bring to it their own interpretations.
This poem
stubble fires
scarred fields under siege
we surrender
to the acrid breath
of smoking dragons
is for me, a call to arms—we must react against these words and not surrender to the dragon but work to change the seemingly inevitable descent into smoke-filled disaster on this planet. Thank you, Debbie."
Appraisal by Julie Thorndyke
stubble fires
scarred fields under siege
we surrender
to the acrid breath
of smoking dragons
Cattails, January 2014
"When I read this poem for the first time, it gave me shivers up my spine. No doubt it is because in Australia we are in the grip of early bushfires: a spring in which even rainforests are burning, and koalas are dropping from heat in a scarred landscape which no longer resembles the lush seaside towns of our childhood summer holidays.
stubble fires
scarred fields under siege
Debbie Strange is writing about specific agricultural fields but for me they are the country landscapes of memory, brought to mind through the poet's use of sibilance and the hard, consonant sounds of 'f's and 'b' and 'd' and 'c/k'. The metaphor of the dragon representing fire is traditional, but the specific mention of "acrid breath" makes the image very real and reinforces for me the allusion to lost childhood places. The terrible smell after the bushfire. The desolation brought by a monster more real than Smaug himself. The word 'siege' represents the battle between nature and man, as in Tolkien's mythical war. How I wish that our native trees were able to mobilize, like Ents, and carry our wildlife to safety.
But no: the third line, the classic tanka pivot, is chilling: "we surrender". Hope is gone. We accept the dragons' power. It is a death scene.
I have never met Debbie Strange, except on the pages of tanka journals. I have learned that her words are elegant and piercing, and often they provide that little emotional jolt that make tanka such a powerful form of poetry. Here she uses a clasic tanka shape; fewer than 31 syllables; there is a rhythm in the lines and a build-up to line 5 and the drama of the dragon image.
There is plenty of room for wondering in this poem. Smoke can be used as a tool, and perhaps that is another message that readers could glean from these words. The mark of an effective tanka is that there is space for readers to bring to it their own interpretations.
This poem
stubble fires
scarred fields under siege
we surrender
to the acrid breath
of smoking dragons
is for me, a call to arms—we must react against these words and not surrender to the dragon but work to change the seemingly inevitable descent into smoke-filled disaster on this planet. Thank you, Debbie."
San Francisco International Competition for Haiku, Senryu and Tanka, 2019
the coiled tips
of fiddlehead ferns
remind me
that every forest knows
how to make music
2nd Honourable Mention Tanka
Judge's comments:
These coiled fern tips remind me of what's called the "scroll" at the top end of a violin, which is surely why these ferns are named for fiddles. These tips will uncoil, as if to release their music. All aspects of the forest—the high canopies of swaying trees, the forest duff below, and everything in between—all contribute to the music of the forest. The poet notices and is filled with appreciation for the harmony of nature.
of fiddlehead ferns
remind me
that every forest knows
how to make music
2nd Honourable Mention Tanka
Judge's comments:
These coiled fern tips remind me of what's called the "scroll" at the top end of a violin, which is surely why these ferns are named for fiddles. These tips will uncoil, as if to release their music. All aspects of the forest—the high canopies of swaying trees, the forest duff below, and everything in between—all contribute to the music of the forest. The poet notices and is filled with appreciation for the harmony of nature.
—Michael Dylan Welch
World Haiku Review, December 2019
father waxes
his handlebar moustache . . .
crescent moon
Zatsuei Haiku of Merit
Shintai Haiku Category
his handlebar moustache . . .
crescent moon
Zatsuei Haiku of Merit
Shintai Haiku Category
Atlas Poetica, Number 39, 2019
leaving
when death
calls me home
let it be
while I lie with you
in the wilderlands
I surrender
myself to mystery
believing
that something immutable
waits beyond my ken
when death
calls me home
let it be
while I lie with you
in the wilderlands
I surrender
myself to mystery
believing
that something immutable
waits beyond my ken
Monday, December 30, 2019
Daily Haiku, Charlotte Digregorio's Writer's Blog, December 2019
star-nosed mole
we search for light
in dark places
Shortlisted
Best-of-Issue, Presence 63, 2019
we search for light
in dark places
Shortlisted
Best-of-Issue, Presence 63, 2019
Monday, December 23, 2019
Irish Haiku Society International Haiku Competition 2019
soft rime
a chickadee's song
becomes visible
Honourable Mention
12th IHS, International Haiku Competition 2019
Note:
over 320 entries judged blindly by Anatoly Kudryavitsky
a chickadee's song
becomes visible
Honourable Mention
12th IHS, International Haiku Competition 2019
Note:
over 320 entries judged blindly by Anatoly Kudryavitsky
The Haiku Foundation, Per Diem, November 2019
Selected by Pravat Kumar Padhy for the monoku theme of "Celestial Bodies": November, 2019
a curl of eyelash on your pillow crescent moon
Brass Bell, April 2016
a curl of eyelash on your pillow crescent moon
Brass Bell, April 2016
The Haiku Foundation, Haiku Dialogue, November 2019
"Social Issues" prompts by Lori Minor: poverty and hunger
charity
how hard it is
to ask
charity
how hard it is
to ask
Purple Cotton Candy Arts, Will You Still Love Me? A Puppy Haiku Story, December 2019
Will You Still Love Me? A Puppy Haiku Story: written by Christine L. Villa, illustrated by Jiliane Vilches, and published by Purple Cotton Candy Arts.
I'm honoured to have the following haiku included:
ice cream truck . . .
our Dalmatian appears
out of nowhere
I'm honoured to have the following haiku included:
ice cream truck . . .
our Dalmatian appears
out of nowhere
Australian Haiku Society, December 2019
Summer Solstice 2019 AHS Haiga Kukai: Seasonal Entry
firestorm a dusting of red on the glacier
Summer Solstice 2019 AHS Haiga Kukai: Non-Seasonal Entry
patchwork quilt . . .
a happy cow produces
more milk
(Note: these haiku were written in response to artwork by Ron Moss)
firestorm a dusting of red on the glacier
Summer Solstice 2019 AHS Haiga Kukai: Non-Seasonal Entry
patchwork quilt . . .
a happy cow produces
more milk
(Note: these haiku were written in response to artwork by Ron Moss)
Seashores - An International Journal to Share the Spirit of Haiku, Vol. 3, November 2019
prognosis . . .
in the cranberry bog
cinders of light
fern spores
the ellipsis after
your goodbye
in the cranberry bog
cinders of light
fern spores
the ellipsis after
your goodbye
Moonbathing, Issue 21, Fall/Winter 2019
laden boughs
tremble in ambient light
I catch
a fleeting memory
of you holding my hand
tremble in ambient light
I catch
a fleeting memory
of you holding my hand
Daily Haiga: An Edited Journal of Traditional and Contemporary Haiga, December 2019
Featured Artist: December 20, 2019
Note: this haiku was first published in Presence 62, November 2018
Daily Haiku, Charlotte Digregorio's Writer's Blog, December 2019
snowmelt
the wild crocuses
you loved
2nd Place
1st Morioka International Haiku Contest, 2019
the wild crocuses
you loved
2nd Place
1st Morioka International Haiku Contest, 2019
Tanka Origins, Issue 2, December 2019
My thanks to the editor, an'ya, for her lovely commentary!
painted ladies
hitch rides on the wind
my journey
was without direction
before you came along
"The tanka by Debbie, on a favorite subject of mine, painted lady (butterflies). This assumption is created by lines one and two. However, line three twists this into something more. Depending on how you read this tanka, the reference in lines four and five could mean ladies-of-the-night, one of them given direction by whomever came calling. A tanka that allows readers more than one option."
painted ladies
hitch rides on the wind
my journey
was without direction
before you came along
"The tanka by Debbie, on a favorite subject of mine, painted lady (butterflies). This assumption is created by lines one and two. However, line three twists this into something more. Depending on how you read this tanka, the reference in lines four and five could mean ladies-of-the-night, one of them given direction by whomever came calling. A tanka that allows readers more than one option."
Monday, December 16, 2019
Daily Haiga: An Edited Journal of Traditional and Contemporary Haiga, December 2019
Featured Artist: December 6, 2019
Note: haiku first published in the Peonies Haiku Anthology, 2019
Under the Basho, 2019
Personal Best
bioluminescence
I skip a pebble across
the universe
1st Place, 2019 OtherWordly Intergalactic Haiku Competition
(first publication in Seashores, Volume 2, April 2019)
Hokku
moonless
maple leaves ignite
the dusk
fields thronged
with sandhill cranes . . .
corn moon
bugling elk
fog softens the shape
of morning
the curve
of a dune's shadow . . .
day moon
Modern Haiku
rivulets of rain . . .
I trace the shape
of loneliness
veils of dust . . .
at least we have
this sunset
bioluminescence
I skip a pebble across
the universe
1st Place, 2019 OtherWordly Intergalactic Haiku Competition
(first publication in Seashores, Volume 2, April 2019)
Hokku
moonless
maple leaves ignite
the dusk
fields thronged
with sandhill cranes . . .
corn moon
bugling elk
fog softens the shape
of morning
the curve
of a dune's shadow . . .
day moon
Modern Haiku
rivulets of rain . . .
I trace the shape
of loneliness
veils of dust . . .
at least we have
this sunset
Tinywords, Issue 19.2, November 2019
(Note: haiku without art first appeared in The Haiku Foundation's blog in 2019)
The Cherita, Book 30, September 2019
Issue: "wondering where"
sea maidens
conjured
out of mist
hover, then rise
into dawn's
golden embrace
recurring dream . . .
I am falling
like slow-motion rain
you reach for me
but I slip away,
eyes wet with wonder
A Cherita Lighthouse Award
we have journeyed
so far away
from our intentions
let us ship oars
for a moment
and simply, drift
A Cherita Lighthouse Award
summer's end
we dangle memories
over the dock's edge
this weathered wood
etched with secrets
and lies
A Cherita Lighthouse Award
sea maidens
conjured
out of mist
hover, then rise
into dawn's
golden embrace
recurring dream . . .
I am falling
like slow-motion rain
you reach for me
but I slip away,
eyes wet with wonder
A Cherita Lighthouse Award
we have journeyed
so far away
from our intentions
let us ship oars
for a moment
and simply, drift
A Cherita Lighthouse Award
summer's end
we dangle memories
over the dock's edge
this weathered wood
etched with secrets
and lies
A Cherita Lighthouse Award
Ribbons, Volume 15, Number 3, Fall 2019
seaward
we are witness
to the birth of dawn
our paddles
silent for a moment
dripping with light
dolphins stitch
the blue edge of sky
to ocean
I imagine our bodies
unwrinkled and nimble
fishing boats
appear to hover
in mid-air
as heaven becomes
one with the water
night falls
upon this island
we open
our mouths and swallow
an elixir of stars
we are witness
to the birth of dawn
our paddles
silent for a moment
dripping with light
dolphins stitch
the blue edge of sky
to ocean
I imagine our bodies
unwrinkled and nimble
fishing boats
appear to hover
in mid-air
as heaven becomes
one with the water
night falls
upon this island
we open
our mouths and swallow
an elixir of stars
Presence, Number 65, November 2019
thunderbugs
the rain that never
arrives
snow day
we make crow footprints
into peace signs
king tide
an orca's breath snuffs
out the sun
every night
this river lulls me
to sleep
with the same story
it told my ancestors
the rain that never
arrives
snow day
we make crow footprints
into peace signs
king tide
an orca's breath snuffs
out the sun
every night
this river lulls me
to sleep
with the same story
it told my ancestors
Haiku Canada Review, Vol. 13, Number 2, October 2019
blackout poetry all my little strokes
looking away
from our campfire
for a moment
we see that the stars
have been here all along
looking away
from our campfire
for a moment
we see that the stars
have been here all along
New Zealand Poetry Society International Poetry Competition 2019
The Perfect Weight of Blankets at Night - NZPS Poetry Anthology 2019
prairie thunder
I braid my sister's hair
with corn silk
Highly Commended
rosy dawn
our paddles stippled
with petals
Highly Commended
(note: there were 5320 entries to the contest)
Contest judged by Gregory Piko
prairie thunder
I braid my sister's hair
with corn silk
Highly Commended
rosy dawn
our paddles stippled
with petals
Highly Commended
(note: there were 5320 entries to the contest)
NeverEnding Story, November 2019
Translated into Chinese by Chen-ou Liu:
frozen trough
I cup the warm breath
of my horse
First Place, 2018 Sharpening the Green Pencil Haiku Contest
Chen-ou Liu's Comments:
excerpted from comments by the contest judge, Cezar Florin CIOBICA, accessed at:
https://sharpeningthegreenpencil.blogspot.com/p/2018.html
frozen trough
I cup the warm breath
of my horse
First Place, 2018 Sharpening the Green Pencil Haiku Contest
Chen-ou Liu's Comments:
excerpted from comments by the contest judge, Cezar Florin CIOBICA, accessed at:
https://sharpeningthegreenpencil.blogspot.com/p/2018.html
Frameless Sky, Issue 11, December 2019
Honoured to be the featured poet for the "Take the Challenge" contest for this issue. I chose Gregory Piko's lovely photograph to accompany this haiku:
redwoods . . .
a squirrel interrupts
our communion
I was also thrilled to be have my haiga video, "Watercoloured Words" included in this issue. It first appeared as part of the Haiku Foundation HaikuLife Film Festival in 2018.
redwoods . . .
a squirrel interrupts
our communion
I was also thrilled to be have my haiga video, "Watercoloured Words" included in this issue. It first appeared as part of the Haiku Foundation HaikuLife Film Festival in 2018.
#FemkuMag: An E-zine of Womxn's Haiku - Issue 18, November 2019
Haibun issue edited by Tia Haynes
not my fairytale
We used to make angels in the sand until our hair and skin sparked like fire on water. Now, I sit with my back against a chunk of driftwood, as hoary as this life without you.
castle ruins
a whale swims
up the moat
Failed Haiku - A Journal of English Senryu, Vol. 4, Issue 48, December 2019
Haibun issue edited by Sonam Chhoki
I was thrilled to learn that the following haibunga had been chosen for this month's cover:
I was thrilled to learn that the following haibunga had been chosen for this month's cover:
Failed Haiku - A Journal of English Senryu, Vol. 4, Issue 47, November 2019
Rock and Roll Issue edited by Michael Lester
This kyoka is inspired by Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders from Mars. I was pretty much a "folkie" until David Bowie expanded my musical horizons in the early 1970s.
Daily Haiga: An Edited Journal of Traditional and Contemporary Haiga, November 2019
Featured Artist: November 14, 2019
Note: this haiku was first published in Akitsu Quarterly, Fall 2018
Daily Haiku, Charlotte Digregorio's Writer's Blog, December 2019
northern lights
the blur of scarves
as skaters pass
Zatsuei Haiku of Merit
The R.H. Blyth Award, 2019
World Haiku Review, March 2019
the blur of scarves
as skaters pass
Zatsuei Haiku of Merit
The R.H. Blyth Award, 2019
World Haiku Review, March 2019
Creatrix Poetry and Haiku Journal, Number 47, December 2019
country school
dust devils spin from
our bicycles
beach stones
I relax the muscles
in my forehead
dust devils spin from
our bicycles
beach stones
I relax the muscles
in my forehead
Autumn Moon Haiku Journal, 3:1, Autumn/Winter 2019-2020
autumn leaves
the missing colours
of my life
the missing colours
of my life
A Thousand Voices, Tanka Society of America Members' Anthology 2019
Edited by Alexis Rotella:
a mirage
shimmers above
golden grain . . .
I reach out to touch
my sister's halo
a mirage
shimmers above
golden grain . . .
I reach out to touch
my sister's halo
Another Trip Around the Sun: 365 Days of Haiku for Children Young and Old, 2019
Editor: Jessica Malone Latham
February 2
candlemas . . .
a doe's eyelashes fringed
with light
Akitsu Quarterly, Winter 2017
March 17
fog deepens
the sound of rabbits
nibbling night
Grand Prize, 2016 World Haiku Competition
May - honoured to have the following poem chosen as the featured haiku:
heirloom hollyhocks
I still see father kneeling
in a patch of light
The Heron's Nest 21.1, March 2019
May 21
fiddleheads
the curled ears
of newborns
Brass Bell, October 2017
September 4
bone density . . .
the broken stems
of sunflowers
Creatrix 39, November 2017
September 8
harvesting night
an arc of moondust
from the auger
Creatrix 43, December 2018
September 22
in cupped hands
the harvest moon rests
for a moment
1st Place, 2015 Autumn Moon Haiku Contest
October 9
aspen grove
he fills his pockets
with pirate gold
Ephemerae 1C, November 2018
October 31
witches' butter
along a rotten log
speckled light
Acorn 38, Spring 2017
November 17
stark branches
the first flowering
of snowflakes
Award of Excellence, 2015 World Haiku Association Haiga Contest
December 20
sleigh bells
the hayloft rustles
with deer mice
Haiku Canada Review 9.1, February 2015
December 22
sugar cookies
we swallow each phase
of the moon
Frogpond 39.3, Spring/Summer 2016
February 2
candlemas . . .
a doe's eyelashes fringed
with light
Akitsu Quarterly, Winter 2017
March 17
fog deepens
the sound of rabbits
nibbling night
Grand Prize, 2016 World Haiku Competition
May - honoured to have the following poem chosen as the featured haiku:
heirloom hollyhocks
I still see father kneeling
in a patch of light
The Heron's Nest 21.1, March 2019
May 21
fiddleheads
the curled ears
of newborns
Brass Bell, October 2017
September 4
bone density . . .
the broken stems
of sunflowers
Creatrix 39, November 2017
September 8
harvesting night
an arc of moondust
from the auger
Creatrix 43, December 2018
September 22
in cupped hands
the harvest moon rests
for a moment
1st Place, 2015 Autumn Moon Haiku Contest
October 9
aspen grove
he fills his pockets
with pirate gold
Ephemerae 1C, November 2018
October 31
witches' butter
along a rotten log
speckled light
Acorn 38, Spring 2017
November 17
stark branches
the first flowering
of snowflakes
Award of Excellence, 2015 World Haiku Association Haiga Contest
December 20
sleigh bells
the hayloft rustles
with deer mice
Haiku Canada Review 9.1, February 2015
December 22
sugar cookies
we swallow each phase
of the moon
Frogpond 39.3, Spring/Summer 2016
All the Way Home: Aging in Haiku, 2019
Editor: Robert Epstein
golden years . . .
no one tells you about
the tarnish
Prune Juice 26, 2018
the growth rings
of otoliths and trees . . .
when did she
become smaller
than her daughters
2nd Place, 2017 Fleeting Words Tanka Competition
golden years . . .
no one tells you about
the tarnish
Prune Juice 26, 2018
the growth rings
of otoliths and trees . . .
when did she
become smaller
than her daughters
2nd Place, 2017 Fleeting Words Tanka Competition
Note: the haiga above originally appeared in Failed Haiku 36, 2018
Note: the tanka above originally appeared in Blithe Spirit 28.2, 2018
Note: the senryu above originally appeared in Cattails, 2017
Akitsu Quarterly, Winter 2019
skating pond
the unopened lotus
beneath us
toboggan slide
children fill their pockets
with stars
I was honoured to have the following haiga appear on the inner cover of this issue:
the unopened lotus
beneath us
toboggan slide
children fill their pockets
with stars
I was honoured to have the following haiga appear on the inner cover of this issue:
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