wetland silence
a peeper's vocal sac
expands
Saturday, June 13, 2020
Friday, June 12, 2020
The Poetry Pea Journal of Haiku and Senryu, Spring 2020
Editor: Patricia McGuire
"Animals"
prairie hill
a mule deer walks
over the sun
"Love:
Valentine's Day
our Dalmatian pup's
new red leash
stargazing
the way you expand
my universe
"Recipes"
cold stretch
I mix a suet cake
for the birds
grandma's bread . . .
the love she forgot
to add
Judge's Choice
I love haiku that grapple with the layers of our near universal experiences. Haiku invite the reader into the poem which in this case meant into our kitchens. These submissions sent me googling recipes and ingredients from across the globe. Many referenced mom or mom's cooking, or alluded to other family members in the kitchen. It isn't surprising that numerous entries called on that moment when a taste or aroma, or even the process of cooking inspired warm memories of food and family. It also didn't surprise me that many poems were of a more senryu flavor (sorry, couldn't resist...) using humor to highlight cooking mistakes or human behavior.
Ultimately however, I was stopped cold by a more poignant memory in Debbie's senryu.
The Oxford English dictionary defines poignant as 'evoking a keen sense of sadness or regret' but earlier it was used to connote 'sharp or pungent in taste or smell.' How perfect to describe this poem. Fond, doting grandparents are a common stereotype. Not knowing one's grandparents or knowing them as cold or removed might leave a lasting impression on anyone. Bread is the very symbol of hospitality and is one of the first things we partake when we sit together. Debbie sets us up for all the warmth and love a fresh loaf evokes and then sadly cuts in a completely different direction. For my part I hope this is fictional, and that she has much warmer memories. Regardless, it is an excellent poem.
"Animals"
prairie hill
a mule deer walks
over the sun
"Love:
Valentine's Day
our Dalmatian pup's
new red leash
stargazing
the way you expand
my universe
"Recipes"
cold stretch
I mix a suet cake
for the birds
grandma's bread . . .
the love she forgot
to add
Judge's Choice
I love haiku that grapple with the layers of our near universal experiences. Haiku invite the reader into the poem which in this case meant into our kitchens. These submissions sent me googling recipes and ingredients from across the globe. Many referenced mom or mom's cooking, or alluded to other family members in the kitchen. It isn't surprising that numerous entries called on that moment when a taste or aroma, or even the process of cooking inspired warm memories of food and family. It also didn't surprise me that many poems were of a more senryu flavor (sorry, couldn't resist...) using humor to highlight cooking mistakes or human behavior.
Ultimately however, I was stopped cold by a more poignant memory in Debbie's senryu.
The Oxford English dictionary defines poignant as 'evoking a keen sense of sadness or regret' but earlier it was used to connote 'sharp or pungent in taste or smell.' How perfect to describe this poem. Fond, doting grandparents are a common stereotype. Not knowing one's grandparents or knowing them as cold or removed might leave a lasting impression on anyone. Bread is the very symbol of hospitality and is one of the first things we partake when we sit together. Debbie sets us up for all the warmth and love a fresh loaf evokes and then sadly cuts in a completely different direction. For my part I hope this is fictional, and that she has much warmer memories. Regardless, it is an excellent poem.
—Community Judge: m shane pruett
Poetry Pea, May 2020
The Haiku Pea Podcast:
Series 3, Episode 10 - "Monoku", May 18, 2020
wild berries in the colander slow-dripping rain
labyrinth i walk into and out of myself
3rd Place, 2018 San Francisco Int'l Competition for Haiku, Senryu and Tanka
Series 3, Episode 10 - "Monoku", May 18, 2020
wild berries in the colander slow-dripping rain
labyrinth i walk into and out of myself
3rd Place, 2018 San Francisco Int'l Competition for Haiku, Senryu and Tanka
The Cherita, Lockdown Cherita Special Feature, April 2020
April 16, 2020
let it rain
yes, I know
you have been waiting
but here we are
inside this night,
alive with coming storms
A Cherita Lighthouse Award
"let it rain" issue, November 2017
April 21, 2020
from open hands
the petals and leaves
on which I wrote your name
fall, one by one
behind me . . .
this is the way home
A Cherita Lighthouse Award
"autumn deepens" issue, February 2018
let it rain
yes, I know
you have been waiting
but here we are
inside this night,
alive with coming storms
A Cherita Lighthouse Award
"let it rain" issue, November 2017
April 21, 2020
from open hands
the petals and leaves
on which I wrote your name
fall, one by one
behind me . . .
this is the way home
A Cherita Lighthouse Award
"autumn deepens" issue, February 2018
The Haiku Foundation, Haiku Dialogue, June 2020
"Haiku Prism" prompts by Tia Haynes: orange
orangery . . .
we unwrap the scent
of childhood
orangery . . .
we unwrap the scent
of childhood
The Haiku Foundation, Haiku Dialogue, May 2020
"Haiku Prism" prompts by Tia Haynes: brown
h(earth)
we learn to shelter
in place
h(earth)
we learn to shelter
in place
The Signature Haiku Anthology (Including Senryu and Tanka), 2020
Editor: Robert Epstein
on this night
of our awareness,
the aurora
brushes an ensō
across lake and sky
Honourable Mention
2018 Sanford Goldstein International Tanka Contest
My Commentary:
This is a sketch-of-life tanka illustrating one of the most magical moments my husband and I have ever experienced while camping at our favourite lake. The aurora borealis began to shimmer in an arc above the silhouette of an island, creating a perfect reflection. For a few moments, the island appeared to be suspended in a circle of light. We were transfixed!
on this night
of our awareness,
the aurora
brushes an ensō
across lake and sky
Honourable Mention
2018 Sanford Goldstein International Tanka Contest
My Commentary:
This is a sketch-of-life tanka illustrating one of the most magical moments my husband and I have ever experienced while camping at our favourite lake. The aurora borealis began to shimmer in an arc above the silhouette of an island, creating a perfect reflection. For a few moments, the island appeared to be suspended in a circle of light. We were transfixed!
Our Best Haiga: Black & White Haiga/Haisha, May 2020
Curated by Lavana Kray
May 2, 2020
Note: this tanka previously appeared in Presence 62, November 2018
May 25, 2020
Note: this haiga previously appeared in Incense Dreams 2.1, March 2018
NeverEnding Story, May 2020
Special Feature: Mother's Day Haiga
Note: this haiku was selected for the 2018 Yamadera Basho Contest
Note: this haiku originally appeared in Modern Haiku 48:1, 2017
Note: this tanka received 3rd Place in the 2018 San Francisco Int'l Haiku, Senryu and Tanka Competition
Note: this tanka originally appeared in GUSTS 23, 2016
World Haiku Competition, Lyrical Passion Poetry E-zine, 2020
Save Our World Haiku Contest judged by Lenard D. Moore
earth day
the shimmering wave
of a bee colony
2nd Place
2020 World Haiku Competition
rainless days
I make another cloud
in a bottle
Honourable Mention
2020 World Haiku Competition
earth day
the shimmering wave
of a bee colony
2nd Place
2020 World Haiku Competition
rainless days
I make another cloud
in a bottle
Honourable Mention
2020 World Haiku Competition
Lyrical Passion Poetry E-zine, June 2020
A Selection of Tanka Art
Note: this tanka originally appeared in Blithe Spirit 28.2, 2018
Note: this tanka originally appeared in Presence 64, July 2019
Note: this tanka originally appeared in GUSTS 25, Spring/Summer 2017
Note: this tanka originally appeared in Mariposa 41, Autumn/Winter 2019
Kokako, Number 32, April 2020
nesting swan
a crack of light seeps
under our door
icicles grow
from the ground up . . .
rusted gutter
our fingers
scented with tobacco,
we hand-roll
mom's smokes and sing
long into the night
three sisters
wrapped in a quilt
of belonging
on the porch swing
we leave space for her . . .
a crack of light seeps
under our door
icicles grow
from the ground up . . .
rusted gutter
our fingers
scented with tobacco,
we hand-roll
mom's smokes and sing
long into the night
three sisters
wrapped in a quilt
of belonging
on the porch swing
we leave space for her . . .
Hedgerow Poems, Number 130, Winter 2020
hard freeze
the stashed berries
of whiskey jacks
bellowing cows
a blizzard wallops
the prairie
the stashed berries
of whiskey jacks
bellowing cows
a blizzard wallops
the prairie
Mariposa, Number 42, Spring/Summer 2020
the chaos
of children's snow boots
on the porch
we find life's pattern
in this jumble of days
This issue includes the results of the 2019 San Francisco International Competition for Haiku, Senryu, and Tanka:
the coiled tips
of fiddlehead ferns
remind me
that every forest knows
how to make music
2nd Honourable Mention Tanka
The judge's commentary may be accessed under the San Francisco International Competition for Haiku, Senryu, and Tanka tag.
of children's snow boots
on the porch
we find life's pattern
in this jumble of days
This issue includes the results of the 2019 San Francisco International Competition for Haiku, Senryu, and Tanka:
the coiled tips
of fiddlehead ferns
remind me
that every forest knows
how to make music
2nd Honourable Mention Tanka
The judge's commentary may be accessed under the San Francisco International Competition for Haiku, Senryu, and Tanka tag.
Smoke From My Candle, Haiku Canada Members' Anthology 2020
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
#FemkuMag: An E-zine of Womxn's Haiku - Issue 24, May 2020
Guest Editor for Mother's Day theme: Julie Boss Kelsey
white chrysanthemum oh how we miss you
wan, for lack
of sunlight on her face . . .
who will
teach us how to shine
when she fades away
white chrysanthemum oh how we miss you
wan, for lack
of sunlight on her face . . .
who will
teach us how to shine
when she fades away
#FemkuMag: An E-zine of Womxn's Haiku - Issue 23, April 2020
Guest Editors: Kelly Sauvage Angel and Tanya McDonald
safari dreams
father carves a spiral
into his cane
safari dreams
father carves a spiral
into his cane
Failed Haiku - A Journal of English Senryu, Vol. 5, Issue 54, June 2020
Honoured to have the following haiga chosen by guest editor, Praniti Gulyani, as the cover for this month!
Note: this senryu received 3rd Place in the 2018 San Francisco International Competition for Haiku, Senryu and Tanka
Failed Haiku - A Journal of English Senryu, Vol. 5, Issue 53, May 2020
Honoured to have the "hummingbirds" haiga chosen as this month's cover, with thanks to the editor, Mike Rehling!
Eucalypt, Issue 28, May 2020
the muzzle
of my horse, softer
than a sigh . . .
we tell each other
every little thing
of my horse, softer
than a sigh . . .
we tell each other
every little thing
Drifting-Sands-Haibun: A Journal of 21st Century English-language Haibun and Tanka Prose, Issue 1, April 2020
Coming Undone
She always wore the same sweater. I've kept it all these years, and I wear it whenever my memories of her start to fade. Today, the last button came off, and I put it in the sweater's frayed pocket for safekeeping. When it slipped through a hole, and dropped between the floorboards, I finally realized that she was never coming home.
heirloom quilt
sparrow prints embossed
on new snow
2nd Publisher's Choice Award
KYSO Flash Haibun and Tanka Prose Contest, 2016
She always wore the same sweater. I've kept it all these years, and I wear it whenever my memories of her start to fade. Today, the last button came off, and I put it in the sweater's frayed pocket for safekeeping. When it slipped through a hole, and dropped between the floorboards, I finally realized that she was never coming home.
heirloom quilt
sparrow prints embossed
on new snow
2nd Publisher's Choice Award
KYSO Flash Haibun and Tanka Prose Contest, 2016
Daily Haiku, Charlotte Digregorio's Writer's Blog, May 2020
Free Verse Feature - May 17, 2020:
for calum
they straggle out of their black-houses
silently greeting the peaty air
as they untether their hopeful boats
leading them like dogs to the end of the grizzled pier
the sleep-fuddled sea rolls over and grumbles
into the thickened waist of morning
and the blue-breasted hills
breathe in the slanting sighs of heathered moors
hand-hewn oars slice through buttery water
drawing and quartering the awakening sea
with its insatiable craving for the rarefied taste
of smoked and salty Lewis men
with a careless wave and shrug of swollen shoulders
winter's teasing tongue of storm lashes out
licking heaving decks
flicking crumbs of frozen fishermen into the greedy bay
wind-whipped dogs limp home and nudge the lamenting shore
with torn sails between their legs
without their singing masters and silver creels
they bring no solace to the widowed croft
note: Black-houses were traditional thatched huts on the Isle of Lewis. Fires were built in the centre of the living area and there was no chimney. The smoke escaped through the roof, blackening the interior of the dwelling.
1st Place for Poetry
The Writers' Collective/Winnipeg Free Press Poetry Contest, 2011
The Stanza Poetry Map of Scotland (poem no. 112: Port Voller), 2014
Creatrix Poetry and Haiku Journal, Number 49, June 2020
wheatfields
a black bear's head
now and then
sea grass
my resolve begins
to waver
derelict tractor
tumbleweeds still
roll along
cottongrass
we nod at each other
in passing
frozen cow pies
the dog races away
with our puck
laundry day
how this world spins
on without you
skylarks
the words we can't
take back
a black bear's head
now and then
sea grass
my resolve begins
to waver
derelict tractor
tumbleweeds still
roll along
cottongrass
we nod at each other
in passing
frozen cow pies
the dog races away
with our puck
laundry day
how this world spins
on without you
skylarks
the words we can't
take back
Akitsu Quarterly, Summer 2020
berry-picking
even our shadows
turn blue
melted crayons . . .
a double rainbow after
the heat wave
even our shadows
turn blue
melted crayons . . .
a double rainbow after
the heat wave
Ribbons, Volume 16, Number 1, Winter 2020
Sanctuary
how soft,
my grandfather's cheek
he shows me
the little swans inside
every columbine
I sift seeds
between my fingers
scattering them
like prayers offered
to the sun and rain
moon-pennies
set the dark alight
I leave a trail
of petals for you
to spend come morning
welcome
to my garden oasis
every blossom
was once a sorrow buried
deep inside the earth
how soft,
my grandfather's cheek
he shows me
the little swans inside
every columbine
I sift seeds
between my fingers
scattering them
like prayers offered
to the sun and rain
moon-pennies
set the dark alight
I leave a trail
of petals for you
to spend come morning
welcome
to my garden oasis
every blossom
was once a sorrow buried
deep inside the earth
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