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

Friday, July 02, 2021

Tsuri-doro: A Small Journal of Haiku and Senryu, Issue #4, July/August 2021

dew-strung web
the morning breaks
into prisms

The QuillS, Issue 8, June 2021

Impasto Meandering (numbers 1 through 3)






 

The Bamboo Hut, Number 2, 2021

small(holding)


crab-apple wine
the dance floor dad built
in the orchard

the scent of hay
wafts over our pasture . . .
we breathe deeply

wheat gum
our laugh lines etched
with dust

a slice of moon
dangles from the auger . . .
rusty combine

barren fields
the scattered bones
of our farm

the jangle
of a tin roof leaving home . . .
desolate prairie 









The Haiku Foundation, Per Diem, June 2021

Selected by David Oates for the theme of "Passages": June 26, 2021


gone too soon
sakura blossoms
my old friends

Sakura Awards, Canada
Vancouver Cherry Blossom Festival Haiku Invitational, 2015 

Tinywords, Issue 21.1, June 2021


Note: this haiku first appeared in Akitsu Quarterly, Summer 2020


 

Stardust Haiku, Issue 54, June 2021

morning chores
the hens announce
their eggs

Prune Juice, Issue 34, July 2021



 

Poetry Pea, June 2021

The Haiku Pea Podcast


Series 4, Episode 12 - "Original Haiku of the Seasons", June 21, 2021 


fallow fields a light dusting of snow geese

Mariposa 39, Autumn/Winter 2018
Shortlisted, 2018 Touchstone Awards


monarch migration
the unexpected tremor
of my lips

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

 Curated by Lavana Kray


June 3, 2021


(Note: this tanka was first published in Kokako 32, April 2020)

June 14, 2021


(Note: this haiku was first published in #FemkuMag 9, February 2019)

June 27, 2021


(Note: this tanka received 2nd place in the 2018 UHTS Fleeting Words Tanka Competition)







Modern Haiku, Vol. 52.2, Summer 2021

grape vines
these fingers that refuse
to bend


My thanks to Lee Gurga for giving the following haiku a mention in his essay, "Normative Haiku and Beyond":


summer fair
our dog retrieves
a lost boy

Mariposa 40, 2019

Failed Haiku - A Journal of English Senryu, Vol. 6, Issue 67, July 2021




 

Eucalypt, Issue 30, May 2021

smatterings
of earthstar fungi unfold
along this path
I try to reimagine
the time-lapse of my life


my dye pot
bubbles with delight
I offer
the day's new colours
to you for naming

Brass Bell, July 2021

Theme: childhood memories


cumulonimbus
the percussion of hail
against our silos


blistering sun
we wade through a river
of barley


dinner bell
the wind swallows
its sound

Australian Haiku Society, 2021

Winter Solstice Haiku String, June 21, 2021


chanterelles
dirt makes a map
of my palm

Tuesday, June 15, 2021

Haiku Society of America, Merit Book Awards, 2021

Thrilled to have received an Honourable Mention in the Haiku Society of America Merit Book Awards for 2021 (for books published in 2020) for The Language of Loss: Haiku & Tanka Conversations (Sable Books 2020).


My thanks to the esteemed judge, Roberta Beary, author of The Unworn Necklace and Deflection.

This book was also the winner of the 2019 Sable Books International Women's Haiku Book Contest.


 

Poetry Pea, May 2021

The Haiku Pea Podcast


Series 4, Episode 10 - "Euphonic Haiku", May 17, 2021


bioluminescence
I skip a pebble across
the universe

Seashores 2, 2019
1st Place, OtherWordly Intergalactic Haiku Competition, 2019
Shortlisted, Touchstone Awards for Individual Poems, 2019


ripe pumpkins
deer tracks riddle
the frost

Akitsu Quarterly, Summer 2021

shepherd's crook
her flock shape-shifts
into clouds


dandelions
the circles of light
we follow home


 


Monday, June 14, 2021

Hexapod Haiku Contest, 2021 - Frost Entomological Museum

Honoured to have the following work chosen for the Haiku Laureate Award (category: ages 18 and older) in the 2021 Hexapod Haiku Contest:


outdoor wedding
an unexpected flurry
of cabbage whites


Judges' Comments:

Everyone knows wedding planning has its stresses. When a couple decides on an outdoor wedding they are taking a chance; an outdoor wedding has the added stress of weather. And yet for some couples it is worth taking the risk of having a rainy or windy wedding day, in order to tie the knot in the great outdoors. In Debbie Strange's haiku, the setting is clearly outlined in the first line. However, the particulars are carefully omitted. Is it in a park, a person's backyard, a formal garden, or a field? Cabbage whites, the insect in this haiku, are considered hexapod generalists. They have adapted to survive in many different habitats, so in this regard the author further allows the reader to imagine their own version of an outdoor wedding. Debbie Strange uses a technique created by Master Matsuo Basho called sokkyo, or spontaneity, when using the word "flurry." In the course of a wedding ceremony there is typically a great flurry of emotion when either of the nearlyweds enter the scene. However, the author pivots to the cabbage whites who are having their own flurry of activity. Perhaps a trailing dress or footsteps stirred up the butterflies, or the butterflies may have been attuning to something else. There is room to wonder. Debbie Strange adeptly taps into the excitement one feels at a wedding without any direct reference to emotion or the wedding party. Although scientists bristle at the idea of appreciating an invasive species such as the cabbage white butterfly, the author of this haiku finds a way to express beauty through the butterfly's presence in the world. And you wouldn't want a white butterfly at one's outdoor wedding? It is good luck, we hear, and it has even become a wedding business — called butterfly release.

—Anne Burgevin and Dr. Kadeem Gilbert

Serow: Journal of the Akita International Haiku Network, Volume 4, Spring 2021

Grateful to be a featured poet in this issue! 

The transcript of this feature may be viewed under the "Articles/About" tab of this blog.


The Haiku Foundation - New to Haiku: Advice for Beginners, May 2021

My thanks to Julie Bloss Kelsey for inviting me to take part in this interview series!


The transcript of this interview may be viewed under the "Articles/About" tab of this blog.




A New Resonance 12: Emerging Voices in English-Language Haiku, Red Moon Press, 2021

Honoured to be one of 17 poets chosen for this anthology. My thanks to editors Jim Kacian and Julie Warther for selecting the following poems, and for their lovely commentary:


Strange's keen pictorial sense is on display throughout these poems, and it comes as no surprise to learn that she is a painter and photographer—these poems brim with tableaux. It is a simple matter for her to have us visualize a field of lupine leading on to a mirroring sky, a pika daubed gold, and the dim illumination of swans on a night pond. But she is also a storyteller—there are volumes suppressed behind a father's plough, an unknown sibling, an extended stretch of knitted silence. In a sense, then, we can reckon her haiku to be extremely condensed haibun, with the prose to be provided by the reader, and the haiku, as is most common (and just as she tells her stories) beginning at the end. Add to this her felicity with images and we recognize her to be a multimedia artist in the long tradition of haiku poets, like Buson, for whom all the arts were in play. 


fields of lupine
where does the sky
begin


deserted farm
the random acts
of hollyhocks


porch swing
songs where we least
expect them


rusty sun
father's plough returns
to the earth


unmarked grave . . .
a thousand red maples
offer their leaves


the sister
I didn't know I had . . .
rhizomes


pine forest . . .
the advice I'd give
my younger self


moonless . . .
a dark lake lit
with swans


marsh reeds
we learn the secret
language of wind


owling . . .
we wait for the other side
of silence


city sirens
the wolves that used to
sing us home


on the taiga a glimpse of something bigger


alpenglow
a pika gathers stems
of light


firelight knitting another length of silence


river stories
we always begin
at the end


Publication Credits:

Stardust Haku 22
The Heron's Nest XXI:3
Modern Haiku 48.3
The Cicada's Cry (2020)
THF Haiku Dialogue Week 19 (2019)
The Heron's Nest XXII:2
Soka Matsubara International Haiku Competition
The Heron's Nest XIX:2
Akitsu Quarterly Fall (2019)
Modern Haiku 50.3
Shamrock Haiku Journal 42
Presence 58
Iris International Haiku Magazine 5
Wales Haiku Journal Haiga Gallery (2018)
Under the Basho (2017)

"porch swing" appeared in Prairie Interludes, the Snapshot Press eChapbook Awards winner (2020), which was also shortlisted for The Haiku Foundation Distinguished Books Award (2020); "pine forest" received an Honorable Mention in the Soka Matsubara International Haiku Competition (2020); "city sirens" was the runner-up senryu for the Shamrock Haiku Journal Readers' Choice Awards (2019); "alpenglow" received a commendation in A Little Haiku Contest by the Croatian haiku magazine Iris (2018).



The Cherita: The Word Healers Anniversary Anthology, June 2021

we are tethered

to this earth
and to each other

our veins,
blue rhizomes searching
for light in the dark


A Cherita Lighthouse Award
The Cherita, August 2019
 

Fireflies' Light: A Magazine of Short Poems, Issue 23, June 2021

 





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

 Curated by Lavana Kray


May 11, 2021


(Note: this haiku was first published in #FemkuMag 19, December 2019)

May 22, 2021


(Note: this haiku was first published in Creatrix 49, June 2020)






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

Curated by Lavana Kray


April 25, 2021


(Note: this tanka art was first published in Ribbons 16.1, Winter 2020)


 

Otoroshi Journal, Volume 1, Issue 2, Summer 2021

Ghoulishly excited to have my first horror tanka prose featured in this new horror-themed journal. My thanks to editor Lori Minor and Joshua Gage!


Bodement

I feel a frisson of fear as she unpins the emergency button from my bed. The intravenous needle tears a hole through my skin and blood spurts from the wound. My bedding becomes drenched with urine and stomach acid as the catheter and feeding tubes are yanked out. Taking my brittle hands in hers, she kisses the tip of each finger before breaking them, one by one. I am without oxygen, but conscious enough to understand that this is what I deserve. With a final gasp, I beg for her forgiveness.

the sin-eater
consuming
transgressions
consuming
the sin-eater
 

Moonbathing, Issue 24, Spring/Summer 2021

a slick
of moonlight across
dark water
the way our wounds
fill up with silver

Random Sampling, Haiku Canada Members' Anthology 2021

forgotten grave
only the small bones
of leaves remain


Commended Haiku
2020 Polish International Haiku Competition
 

Failed Haiku - A Journal of English Senryu, Vol. 6, Issue 66, June 2021

Theme: "Back from the Dead"


killdeer chicks
the roller skates
of our youth


timeworn the clock that can't be wound back


yarn bombing
we imagine the colour
of life without war

Daily Haiku, Charlotte Digregorio's Writer's Blog, June 2021

city sirens
the wolves that used to
sing us home


Runner-up Senryu, Readers' Choice Awards 2019
Shamrock Haiku Journal, Number 42, 2019

Cold Moon Journal, June 2021

Theme: Moon - June 5, 2021


full moon
a strawberry ripens
in the basket of sky







Blithe Spirit, Vol. 31, Number 2, May 2021

My thanks to Colin Blundell for the wonderful review of The Language of Loss: Haiku & Tanka Conversations, which may be accessed under the book's tab!


pleats of light
fold into the valley . . .
mountain goats


moving away
the liquid whistle
of a bobwhite


waterfalls
everywhere we look
even the smallest
leaves its signature
on this mountain


Note: This issue also contains the results and commentaries for the 2020 British Haiku Society Awards, which may be accessed under the British Haiku Society tag on this blog. I was thrilled to receive an Honourable Mention in the annual tanka contest. My thanks to the judge, Michael McClintock.
 

Autumn Moon Haiku Journal, 4:2, Spring-Summer 2021

pollen clouds
the meadow threaded
with butterflies
 

Tuesday, June 01, 2021

North Carolina Poetry Society, Bloodroot Haiku Award, 2021

Grateful to have received an HM in this contest. My thanks to the judge, Tanya McDonald (61 entries)!


a split keel
only these waves
of grass

Honourable Mention
Bloodroot Haiku Award 2021
Pinesong, Volume 57, Awards 2021
 

Wales Haiku Journal, Spring 2021

polar vortex
fog pushes through
a revolving door

Stardust Haiku, Issue 53, May 2021

steely sky
we look behind us
for the last time
 

Hedgerow Poems, Number 134, Winter 2021

we fluff up
our sleeping bags . . .
cattails
 

NeverEnding Story, April 2021

Translated into Chinese by Chen-ou Liu:


snow whirls
outside the henhouse . . .
father cups
my hands around
a warm brown egg

3rd Place
2018 Fleeting Words Tanka Competition


Chen-ou Liu's Comments: (excerpted from commentary by judges Carole MacRury and Michael McClintock)

A sensory poem that takes us from whirling snow, straight into the warmth of a henhouse, the warmth of a father/child relationship, and the warmth of a freshly gathered brown egg. Debbie Strange's use of "cups" gives a wonderful tactile sense and understanding to this moment's magical combination of both fragility and solidness—of the brown egg, and of the love palpably felt between father and child. All is fused in one powerful image. That is quite a feat. The winter metaphor in the first line could also allude to the day when the child will draw sustenance from this warm memory long after the father is gone.

Haigaonline, Vol. 22, Issue 1, Spring 2021

Grateful to Linda Papanicolaou for including this block-printed haiga in the final issue of Haigaonline!


The Language Challenge - Washing the Inkstone Issue





Failed Haiku - A Journal of English Senryu, Vol. 6, Issue 65, May 2021



 

Daily Haiku, Charlotte Digregorio's Writer's Blog, April 2021

April 30, 2021


tent window
northern lights capture
our dreams

bottle rockets #43, 2020

Daily Haiga: An Edited Journal of Traditional and Contemporary Haiga, May 2021

Featured Artist: May 1, 2021


Note: this haiku was first published in Seashores 4, April 2020


 

The Cherita, March 2021

lucent sails

of pelicans
s u s p e n d e d

time stops
for a moment
and kisses the sun


cloud-crowned

mountain goddesses
reveal themselves

gauzy capes of mist
s l i p p i n g
off white shoulders


this meteorite

holds a single grain
of 7 billion-year-old stardust

deep within,
I have always known that
something is out there
 

The Cherita, February 2021

Issue: "some kind of magic"


candlelight

winking
in every window


how I miss
those nights we burned
each other down

A Cherita Lighthouse Award
 

Creatrix Poetry and Haiku Journal, Number 53, May 2021

barrel wave
the sun's diminishing
point of light


midnight sun
the vocal fingerprints
of wolves


the owl
we nearly saw
lantern light


alms
the lake receives
a pair of swans


waterlines
the stories we find
between

A fine Line: The Magazine of the New Zealand Poetry Society, Autumn 2021

the sway
of a hanging bridge
cloud forest
 

Brass Bell, June 2021

Theme: sound / no sound


days shorten
the clatter of dried peas
in a blackened pot


glacial stare the way we retreat into ourselves


distant bark
a murmuration of sheep
moves as one

Brass Bell, May 2021

Theme: edible haiku


garden solitude
only the hidden eyes
of seed potatoes


our neighbour
feeds it while we're gone  . . .
sourdough starter


autumn flames
we gather rose hips
for our muesli


root cellar
the darkness lit
by jelly jars

Ribbons, Volume 17, Number 1, Winter 2021

Selfsame


buried seeds
spring from darkness
into light
we each blossom
in our own time

how sensuous
these rippling sands
at twilight
the evolving stories
of our womanhood

the Geminids
sling meteors above
distant mountains
that which pierces your heart
pierces mine also

dilly-dallying
along gravel roads
time s l o w s
the closer we get
to our childhood




 

Sunday, April 25, 2021

Cattails, April 2021


a fireball
illuminates the dark
life streaks by
before we know
what to make of it


I have learned
how to keep silent . . .
these pebbles
under my tongue
seasoned with rue


candle ice the way you blow hot and cold


frigid weather
a red rose shatters
on impact

Editor's Choice

This haiku took me back to an educational video that I had seen long ago, where a rose shattered after being dipped in liquid nitrogen. A startling observation by Debbie Strange from Canada, where frigid weather is the norm for a good part of the year and the cold freezes the red rose enough to shatter it on impact. The poet uses a powerful and unique image here. On another level, the use of 'red rose' and its various allusions cannot be escaped by the reader. Thank you Debbie Strange, for the many possible readings.
—Geethanjali Rajan

 

Stardust Haiku, Issue 52, April 2021

the best
saved for last . . .
comet tails
 

Seashores - An International Journal to Share the Spirit of Haiku, Vol. 6, April 2021

birch grove
the sudden arrow
of a goshawk


craggy bluff
a waterfall ribbons
into sunset
 

Poetry Pea, April 2021

The Haiku Pea Podcast


Series 4, Episode 8 - "no ego", April 19, 2021


storm hour
the cliff's face carved
a little deeper

3rd Prize, 2020 Irish Haiku Society Int'l Haiku Competition


leaf litter
turkey tail fungus
skirts the pine

The Poetry Pea Journal of Haiku and Senryu, Spring 2021

Editor: Patricia McGuire


"Spring and Autumn Kigo"

the ruts we slip into falling leaves


"Humour"

refuse dump
two black bears slouch
on a stained sofa


"Exaggerated Perspective"

vacant balcony
broken rafters patched
with pigeons

Nick Virgilio Haiku Association, April 2021

Haiku in Action: April 14th - April 20th, 2021, Week 16


flightless
the clipped wings
of refugees


(Note: The way we confine our fellow beings.)
 

Kokako, Number 34, April 2021

eddies of dust
the rooster's comb blends
into sunrise


feather stars
undulating across
the ocean floor . . .
beauty exists even when
we cannot see it


abandoned puppies
tumble from a torn box
there is more
than one way to learn
the art of mothering
 

Sunday, April 18, 2021

The Haiku Foundation: HaikuLife Film Festival 2021

This haiga video, comprised of previously published poems, was created to celebrate The Haiku Foundation's International Haiku Poetry Day HaikuLife Film Festival on April 17, 2021:


Black Velvet

(with recitation)