Friday, December 13, 2024

Triya Mag: Sharad Edition, Anniversary Special, October/November 2024

Translated into Hindi


autumn arrives
in a whirl of leaves
this body
withering, too, despite
my best intentions

2nd Honourable Mention, 2022 San Francisco Int'l Haiku, Senryu and Tanka Contest


geriatric ward
burning matchheads begin
to droop

Highly Commended, 2023 Gloucestershire Poetry Society Haiku Competition

Shining Wind Haiku Anthology, 2024

Thrilled to have the following haiku on the theme of "light" selected for this collaboration between the British Haiku Society and Bulgarian haiku poets. My thanks to editors A.A. Marcoff, David Bingham, Iliyana Stoyanova, Vladislav Hristov, and to assistant editor, Maya Daneva. Special thanks to the translators, Darina Deneva, Iliyana Stoyanova, Maya Daneva.


Translated into Bulgarian


inner shine
ensōs of ice define
each pebble

Prune Juice, Issue 44, December 2024

 


Poetry Pea, October 2024

The Haiku Pea Podcast


Series 7, episode 41 - "Contemporary Tanka Poetry" - October 18, 2024 (selected by Guest Editor, Vandana Parashar)


a raven
believed it could fly
through me
unaware that I am glass,
pretending to be sky

3rd Place, 2020 San Francisco Int'l Competition for Haiku, Senryu and Tanka

Our Best Haiga: Black & White Haiga/Haisha, December 2024

 Curated by Lavana Kray


December 6, 2024


(Note: this haiku first appeared in Geppo, May 2022)


Mariposa, Number 51, Autumn/Winter 2024

petroglyphs
a kayak claimed
by the rocks


let fall
the things that drag
you down . . .
pine trees begin to shed
their snowy burdens

Haiga in Focus, Issue 77, December 2024

 Curated by Claudia Brefeld


Translated into German





GUSTS, Number 40, Fall/Winter 2024

willows bend
to stroke the river
as it passes . . .
I caress your face
for the final time


a box of earth
on your bedside table . . .
frail hands tend
this garden that grows
for no one but you


canola fields
lit by a pink brume
of aurora . . .
harvesting can wait
for another night

Fresh Out: An Arts and Poetry Collective, November 2024

 Curated by Eric A. Lohman


Featured Artist: November 25, 2024


(note: this haiku first appeared in Frogpond 46.3, Autumn 2023)



Flying Fish Haiku Journal, Inaugural Issue, January 2025

Honoured to have five tanka selected for the first issue!


there was
so much I wanted
to teach you . . .
a blue jay's feathers
are not really blue

1st Place, San Francisco Int'l Competition for Haiku, Senryu and Tanka, 2023

between the spokes
of your spinning wheel
a dusty web . . .
I never thought our lives
would so quickly unwind

1st Place, British Haiku Society Tanka Awards, 2019

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

1st Place, Tanka Society of America Sanford Goldstein Int'l Tanka Contest, 2018

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

1st Place, 10th Annual Moonbathing Tanka Contest, 2018

mute swans
under a moon bridge
the things
I should have confessed
make no difference now

1st Place, United Haiku and Tanka Society Fleeting Words Tanka Competition, 2016

Commentary by the editor, Ranice Tara:

...Comparatively more silent, the mythical and symbolic imagery of mute swans floating under a highly arched bridge reminds us of the classical proverb: 'The swan sings before death.' What is interesting here is that the poet's special thought hints towards the wisdom of shaping and directing one's life. By thinking about things that matter, we can avoid becoming completely vulnerable to chance in life.







Enchanted Garden Haiku Journal, Issue 10: Luminaria, December 2024

Honoured to know that the editor, Steliana Voicu, nominated this poem for a 2024 Touchstone Award:

Translated into Romanian


the magic hour
tree ferns become
fountains of light



#FemkuMag - Award Nominations 2024

Thrilled to have the following poems nominated by the editors!


Nominated for the 2024 Touchstone Award:

ill winds of autumn i'm still spitting up leaves

#FemkuMag, Issue 35, Spring 2024


stunted lilac
the baby's grave
rooted to earth

#FemkuMag, Issue 36, Summer 2024


Nominated for the 2024 Red Moon Anthology:

bleach whale ribs the|bars|on|this|window|of|disability

#FemkuMag, Issue 37, Autumn/Winter 2024

Creatrix: Poetry and Haiku Journal, Number 67, December 2024

insect hotel
the woodpecker drills
a new window
 

Contemporary Haibun Online, Issue 20.3, December 2024

Haiga Gallery: selected by Ron Moss





Chrysanthemum, Number 33, October 2024

Translated into German







Humour, British Haiku Society Members' Anthology, 2024

keep your nose
against the grindstone
they said,
but now I have nowhere
to rest my glasses

Blithe Spirit, Volume 34, Number 4, November 2024

desert sunset
a mustang's silhouette
rears up


our horses slip
into canyon shadows
the ridgeline
harnessed to a yoke
of crescent moon
 

Autumn Moon Haiku Journal, 8:1, Autumn/Winter 2024

flatland rain
a herd of antelope
blurs the horizon
 

The Art of Tanka, Issue 3, Fall/Winter 2024

sunlight fills
cracks in the darkness
of sorrow
we spend our lifetimes
waiting to be whole

Saturday, November 09, 2024

Yamadera Basho Memorial Museum English Haiku Contest 2024

16th Contest Selected Haiku Collection


winter into spring
this never-ending tug
of war


blue butterfly
mother's nurse locates
a vein
 

Wales Haiku Journal, Autumn 2024

sleeping whales
we too are anchored
to the ocean




Under the Basho, 2024

Personal Best

cattle roundup
a charred bean can
full of rain

1st Place (joint), 2024 Sharpening the Green Pencil Haiku Contest


Haiku

common loon
a song penetrates
the mist


Postku

clockwise counterculture anticlockwise


Haiga Gallery


 

The Cicada's Cry: A Micro-Zine of Haiku Poetry, Autumn 2024

October rain
the maples are ghosts
of themselves

Eye to Eye, Tanka Society of America Members' Anthology 2023

Edited by Randy Brooks


winter light . . .
nuggets of purple mica
gleam on my desk
and suddenly, I can
think only of lilacs

Suspect Device Punkzine, Number 15, November 2024

Turning Japanese: Ghosts


mist wraiths
one of them
is you
 

Our Best Haiga: Black & White Haiga/Haisha, October 2024

 Curated by Lavana Kray


October 23, 2024


(Note: this tanka first appeared in GUSTS 35, 2022)


#FemkuMag, Issue 37, Autumn/Winter 2024

depression rising and falling super(blue)moon


bleached whale ribs the|bars|on|this|window|of|disability 


body terrorist my trigger thumbs go off



Presence, Number 80, November 2024

wave train the rumble of distant rapids


the weasel
we never see . . .
brush pile


our branches
have grown together
in old age . . .
new leaves shimmer
on the ancient cypress

New Zealand Poetry Society International Poetry Competition, 2024

Paint Me - NZPS Poetry Anthology 2024


My thanks to the editor, Margaret Moores, for selecting the following poem from the entries to the competition:


yellow bird magnolia if we could sing like that

Kingfisher, Issue 10, October 2024

fox kits
no bite left
in the wind


roofless barn
the stars begin
to hoot

Haiku Canada Review, Volume 18, Number 2, October 2024

pasturelandbullthistles


the dances
we used to know . . .
waggling bees

Haiga in Focus, Issue 76, November 2024

 Curated by Claudia Brefeld


Translated into German



Failed Haiku - A Journal of English Senryu, Vol. 9, Number 104, November 2024

Thrilled to receive 2nd Place in the Ninth Annual Jane Reichhold Haiga Competition (mixed media category). My thanks to the judges, Mike Rehling and Kelly Sauvage Moyer!


Commentary:

Here, again, we have the image of a raven; yet, this time, its role as the harbinger of death stands at the forefront of this work by Debbie Strange. The quickening, a time when early fetal movements are typically felt during pregnancy, is not experienced in this case, indicating the possibility of miscarriage. The gravity of the loss suspected is only enhanced by the straightforward language utilized with the senryu to communicate the power of such an ethereal force. We found this to be an effective, not to mention chilling, creation on the part of the poet-artist.

(note: this is an original photo, superimposed with mono-printed feathers)


The following haiga and tanka art were also included in this issue:




 

Daily Haiku: Charlotte Digregorio's Writer's Blog, November 2024

November 6, 2024: theme "the blues"


bullets of crows
on gunmetal nights . . .
a deeper shade
of anguish echoes
in her bones

Atlas Poetica, Number 29, 2017



Daily Haiga: An Edited Journal of Traditional and Contemporary Haiga, November 2024

Featured Artist: November 8, 2024


Note: this tanka was first published in Blithe Spirit 32.3, 2022

Featured Artist: November 24, 2024


Note: this tanka was first published in GUSTS 36, 2022




 

Cattails, October 2024

My thanks to David Kelly for selecting the following senryu as an Editor's Choice:

probate
a prickle of burrs
in the dogs' tail

Commentary:

On first reading, this piece by Debbie Strange appears a simple comparison. However, having heard of other people's experiences of probate, this poem came to life as I revisited those stories. The law appears so insensitive to people suffering grief. It must be difficult enough, trying to straighten the financial affairs of a loved one once they have died, without having to jump through a myriad of legal hoops. The single word, 'probate' must surely strike dread into the hearts of those who have wrestled with it before. To my mind, the thorny tangle of legislation around probate matches, so very neatly, the mess that burrs can make in a dog's tail.


apricity curling myself into it


candle ice
our paddles break it
into music


and still
I am cut to the heart
by these blades
of wild iris swaying
around your tomb



Acorn, Number 53, Fall 2024

chorus frogs
a boy's fingernail
strums his comb

A Fine Line: The Magazine of the New Zealand Poetry Society, Spring 2024

star-nosed mole
we search for light
in dark places

Shortlisted for Best-of-Issue Award, Presence, Number 65, 2019


rocky ledge
a wolf with the moon
in its mouth

3rd Place, 2015 Irish Haiku Society International Competition

Saturday, October 19, 2024

Ribbons, Volume 20, Number 2, Fall/Winter 2024

prairie nights
and fields upon fields
of stars . . .
they say my sister
is up there somewhere



Note: this issue also contains the judges' commentary for the following awarded poem in the 2024 TSA Tanka Contest, accessed under the tag "Sanford Goldstein International Tanka Contest":

an arbutus
sheds its outer bark . . .
my skin
is the only thing
holding me together

Honourable Mention

 

Talking About Strawberries All of the Time, Issue 13, October 2024

Happy to have my "abstract(ions) #1-4" series in this issue! This series was inspired by the way in which the dregs of inks and paints on my palette foster creative play and encourage me to surrender to the process.






 

Password: Journal of Very Short Poetry, Issue 1.3, September 2024

northern lights falling your spell under


leaf-whelmed everywhere we look oh


nuclear meltdown sunflowers hyperaccumulate


unborn yet another ghost species

Modern Haiku, Vol. 55.3, Autumn 2024

high plains
the scent memory
of burnt sage

Hedgerow Poems, Number 146, 2024

salt spray
moonlight catches it
for a moment
 

Haiga in Focus, Issue 75, October 2024

 Curated by Claudia Brefeld


Translated into German




Frogpond, Vol. 47, Number 3, Autumn 2024

lichen sundials
old-growth forests
losing time

Fresh Out: An Arts and Poetry Collective, October 2024

 Curated by Eric A. Lohman


Featured Artist: October 15, 2024


(note: this haiku first appeared in a different haiga in Incense Dreams 2.2, June 2018)



Fireflies' Light: A Magazine of Short Poems, Issue 30, October 2024


Note: this tanka first appeared in Laurels 1, February 2024


Note: this tanka first appeared in Presence 71, November 2021

Note: this tanka first appeared in Red Lights 19.1, January 2023

Daily Haiga: An Edited Journal of Traditional and Contemporary Haiga, October 2024

Featured Artist: October 12, 2024


Note: this tanka was first published in the Take 5ive Journal, June 2023

Cold Moon Journal, September 2024

September 29, 2024




Saturday, September 28, 2024

Akita International Haiku Network, 2024

Thrilled to be included in the Haiku Beyond Earth Series, with ten haiku, tanka, and haiga translated into Japanese by Hidenori Hiruta on September 28, 2024:


skinny-dipping the moon snail's umbilicus

Runner-up
2022 British Haiku Society Awards


drifting sands
sometimes the poem
writes itself

1st Place
2023 Drifting Sands Wearable Art and Haiku Contest


cattle roundup
a charred bean can
full of rain

1st Place (Joint)
2024 Sharpening the Green Pencil Haiku Contest



marsh marigolds
dark waters patched
with light

Highly Commended
2023 New Zealand Poetry Society International Competition


at the moment
I became motherless
something
brushed against me
softer than a feather

1st Place
2022 British Haiku Society Awards


 
sunbeams sift
between the bones
of our barn
mucking out stalls
has never felt so holy
 
Runner-up
2023 British Haiku Society Awards
 
 
fireflies the synchronicity of it all
 
1st Place
2022 Irish Haiku Society International Competition
 
 
there was
so much I wanted
to teach you . . .
a blue jay's feathers
are not really blue
 
1st Place
2023 San Francisco International Competition for Haiku, Senryu and Tanka
 

 
between the spokes
of your spinning wheel
a dusty web . . .
I never thought our lives
would so quickly unwind
 
1st Place
2019 British Haiku Society Awards
 
 
watching you
prepare a star fruit
just so
the small galaxies
of grace in your hands
 
Runner-up
2019 British Haiku Society Awards












Cafe Haiku: The Magazine of the Cafe Haiku Group (Mumbai, Thane, Hyderabad and Chennai), 2024

A Decade of Joy – Retrospective by Debbie Strange


To celebrate my ten years of publishing (after a lifetime of writing!), Rohini Gupta kindly invited me to share a haiga retrospective of my journey along the haiku path. For this initiative, I’ve created ten new haiga incorporating images from my abstract photography exhibition, The Poetry of Light. Though the subjects of these photographs are ordinary (fabric, jewellery, glass), they are transformed into dreamscapes by employing diffusion and shallow depth-of-field techniques. These blurred pictures represent my ongoing struggles with vision, and they have not been digitally manipulated. They also showcase the use of colour therapy in my daily art practice, which increases endorphin production, helping to mitigate the effects of chronic illness. The artworks fall into the non-representational tangential haiga category. For further information on the six recognized categories of haiga, please see: https://www.gendaihaiku.com/kacian/haiga.html

I extend my thanks to the Café Haiku team for this lovely opportunity to share my work!


 2014
 
on the tundra
caging a winter sky
caribou bones
 
3rd Place, 2nd Annual “aha” Awards, 2014
 
This is one of my earliest published haiku, so it holds a special place in my heart. We have two ecotypes of woodland caribou in Manitoba, and the boreal woodland caribou is a threatened species.


2015
 
stone cairns
a faded cap drifts
downriver
 
1st Place, Harold G. Henderson Awards, 2015
 
On one of our adventures in the Canadian Rocky Mountains, we discovered many cairns along the Athabasca River, with notes imploring hikers and canoeists to be on the lookout for a young man who had slipped over the waterfall and perished.


2016
 
fog deepens
the sound of rabbits
nibbling night
 
Grand Prize, World Haiku Competition, 2016
 
I used to have a huge perennial flower garden, and keeping rabbits at bay could be a chore. When I discovered a nest of five baby cottontails in the leaf mulch under my rose bushes, I could hardly be angry at their mother!


2017
 
glassy lake
flocks of snow geese
pull up the moon
 
1st Place, Autumn Moon Haiku Contest, 2017
 
This sketch-from-life haiku evokes fond memories. We were camped beside a lake in mid-autumn. A huge harvest moon was on the rise, accompanied by the soft calls of snow geese overhead. Their loose skeins gave the appearance of reins, pulling the moon out of the water.


2018
 
frozen trough
I cup the warm breath
of my horse
 
1st Place, Sharpening the Green Pencil Haiku Contest, 2018
 
“Rival” is a special Percheron draft horse in my life, whose charcoal gray coat is spattered with white stars. He is powerful, yet gentle, and when he snuffles his warm breath against me, I feel at peace with the world.

 
2019
 
alpenglow
a pika gathers stems
of light
 
Commended, Little Iris Haiku Contest, 2019
 
We’ve only had the good fortune of seeing a wild pika once, but what an experience it was! The light was turning the mountains to rose-gold, when we heard a squeak coming from behind some rocks. A little “rock rabbit” appeared, with a mouth full of backlit plant stems to add to its “haystack” of food.


2020
 
prairie town
rusted rails lead us
into sunrise
 
Museum of Haiku Literature Award, Blithe Spirit, Volume 30, Number 2, 2020
 
As anyone who has lived in a small prairie town will tell you, walking on the rails is almost a rite of passage! There is something compelling about the way they beckon you into the distance, sparking imagination as to what might be ahead.


2021
 
fireflies the synchronicity of it all
 
1st Place, Irish Haiku Society International Haiku Competition, 2021
 
Whilst lingering around our campfire, mesmerized by bright sparks illuminating the dark night, we noticed that not all of them were born of the flames. It was a wonderful experience to feel part of something so magical.


2022
 
skinny-dipping the moon snail’s umbilicus
 
Runner-up, The David Cobb Haiku Award, 2022
 
Summers spent at the cottage with my sisters were happy times filled with love and laughter. One night while my mother kept watch, we girls frolicked in the moonlit water, naked as mermaids. We had to beat a hasty retreat, though, when we saw the lanterns of night fishermen winking at us!


2023
 
drifting sands
sometimes the poem
writes itself
 
Winner, Drifting Sands Wearable Art and Haiku Contest, 2023
 
One of my favourite things to do when we are beachcombing is to write words and poems in the sand. I decorate them with leaves, feathers, stones, and shells, hoping that someone will find these little offerings before the tide rises.