Thursday, April 25, 2024
Wednesday, April 24, 2024
Presence, Number 78, March 2024
pogonip
I shorten the length
of my stride
rural bus stop
a border collie waits
for his boy
emerging
from a tree-lined tunnel
of fog
I choose not to look back
at my younger self
Our Best Haiga: Black & White Haiga/Haisha, April 2024
Curated by Lavana Kray
April 10, 2024
(Note: this tanka received an Honourable Mention in the 2023 Fleeting Words Tanka Competition)
Our Best Haiga: Black & White Haiga/Haisha, March 2024
Curated by Lavana Kray
March 15, 2024
(Note: this tanka received 2nd Place in the 2022 Fleeting Words Tanka Competition, and the tanka art first appeared in my film "Shadowlight" for the 2023 Haiku Foundation HaikuLife Film Festival)
Horror Senryu Journal, April 2024
seiche effect
the missing man bobs
back and forth
border patrol
a hank of hair caught
on barbed wire
Kokako, Number 40, April 2024
Thrilled to have had work selected for this final print issue!
prairie blizzard the hissing of kerosene
old friends
a trio of puffins
rubbing beaks
city parables . . .
street corner prophets
offering
their thunder to gods
and other strangers
this mountain,
a spiritual gateway . . .
I look
for myself beyond
the forest of clouds
The Heron's Nest, Volume 25, 2023
estate auction
someone's life goes
for a song
hard times
fishing nets tie
the village together
I was thrilled to discover that three readers had commented on "hard times":
Debbie's poem I particularly loved and it has stayed with me partly because I did help out on a small fishing boat many years ago. A small village that relies on fishing for food and income now has to pull together even more to get by. I think the verb 'tie' is perfect here. It has so many connotations.
—Lorraine Haig
When I read this poem, I first thought of the First Nations' and Native American villages being devastated by the failure of the salmon runs. As I sit with it, I realize it applies as well to the Maine villages that were sustained by ground fish, herring, and lobster and are now struggling, held together only by their nets and traps and heritage. The focus can be expanded to the rest of New England, New Brunswick—and truly coastal communities around the world. In eight words, Debbie Strange has captured the impact of our abuse of the oceans as well as inland waters.
—Nancy Orr
Community. Fishing gets them through hard times. The fishing nets are the glue holding the community together.
—Lyle Smith
Red Lights, Vol. 20, Number 1, January 2024
the sacred fire
and solemn truth
of sunrise . . .
we might not see it,
but we know it's there
Melancholia's Garden
on this dark day
we are heartened
by buttercups
turning their faces
toward the sun
a few sprigs
of marjoram to soothe
this anxiety
breathing in, breathing out,
I come back to myself
we did not make
plans for this future
now, it seems
that weeds might be
the only sure thing
Note: this issue also includes my thoughts on the effect tanka has on my life...
Tanka has enriched my inner and outer worlds beyond measure. It can be isolating to be a writer with disabilities, but this global community is generous, nurturing, enthusiastic, and helpful. Writing tanka allows me to delve deeply into the ways in which nature influences my life and to connect with others through this sharing of experiences and emotions.
Fresh Out: An Arts and Poetry Collective, April 2024
Curated by Eric A. Lohman
Featured Artist: April 3, 2024
(note: this monoku first appeared in Mariposa 48, Spring/Summer 2023)
Five Fleas Itchy Poetry, April 2024
copyright d®ead
the seven wonders sightseers looking only at themselves
cottontails the garden at a loss for herbs
deckled edges
sailors know how to read
the shoreline
Fireflies' Light: A Magazine of Short Poems, Issue 29, April 2024
Note: this haiku first appeared in Creatrix 63, December 2023
Note: this haiku first appeared in Under the Basho Haiga Gallery, 2021
Note: this haiku first appeared in Haiku Canada Review 15.1, February 2021
Note: this haiku first appeared in Creatrix 62, September 2023
Folk Ku: A Journal in Honour of Master Masoka Shiki (1867-1902), King River Press - Award Nomination 2023
Thrilled to have the following poem nominated by the editor and longlisted by The Haiku Foundation for the 2023 Touchstone Award:
snow grains
the field dad had no time
to plant
Folk Ku, Issue 1, May 2023
#FemkuMag, Issue 35, Spring 2024
Honoured to have the following haiga selected by guest editor Vandana Parashar for this International Women's Month issue:
The following works were also selected:
ill winds of autumn i'm still spitting up leaves
vesper flight
we were taught to keep
our feet on the ground
Enchanted Garden Haiku Journal, Issue 7: Moments in the Garden, Anniversary Edition, April 2024
Translated into Romanian
rain chains
singing in our garden
calla lilies
open their pink mouths
to cup the hymn of spring
Eucalypt, Issue 24, May 2018
(note: tanka first published in Mariposa, Number 38, Spring/Summer 2018, and haiga first published in Daily Haiga, April 20, 2019)
Daily Haiku: Charlotte Digregorio's Writer's Blog, March 2024
Daily Haiku Special: March 25, 2024
marsh marigolds
dark waters patched
with light
Highly Commended
New Zealand International Poetry Competition, 2023
drifting sands
sometimes the poem
writes itself
Winner
Drifting Sands Wearable Art and Haiku Contest, 2023
there was
so much I wanted
to teach you . . .
a blue jay's feathers
are not really blue
1st Place
San Francisco International Competition for Haiku, Senryu and Tanka, 2023
Cafe Haiku: The Magazine of the Cafe Haiku Group (Mumbai, Thane, Hyderabad and Chennai), March 2024
Haiga feature on the theme of "the elements":
The Heron's Nest, Volume 24, 2022
krill migration
humpback whales
scoop up the stars
rattling gourds
the music we grew
in our garden
Monday, March 04, 2024
Cantos: A Literary and Arts Journal, March 2024
Thrilled to have the following four haiga included in this issue:
Gloucestershire Poetry Society Haiku Competition, 2023
My thanks to the esteemed judge, Alan Summers, for selecting the following two poems, and for his insightful commentary:
geriatric ward
burning matchheads
begin to droop
Highly Commended
Commentary:
The almost visceral 'burning matchheads begin to droop' at a geriatric ward could be anything from someone with dementia, to someone having secret vices, or it can be possibly figurative imagery. It feels like an opening scene, or even closing scene, to a film or serial drama.
...haiku contain sabishii which can mean "I'm lonely." Japanese people might culturally mean it as "I'm lonely as I'm not with you" instead of the phrase "I miss you."
summer head battling another swarm of explosive drones
Merit
San Francisco International Competition for Haiku, Senryu and Tanka, 2023
there was
so much I wanted
to teach you . . .
a blue jay's feathers
are not really blue
First Place
Judge's comments:
For me, this was the clear winner. The tanka is deliberately concise and open-ended. This brevity lends weight to every word. A sense of loss and longing permeate the poem, giving it great emotional depth. There is enough 'space' to allow for reflection - it's a poem that the reader can truly inhabit. It also prompts us to look closely, to observe the details. The combination of all these elements made this tanka leap from the page. A deserving winner.
—Alan Peat
let's drive
down this prairie road,
singing until
we collide head-on
with the Milky Way
Honourable Mention
Judge's comments:
Although our ultimate fate is unavoidable, there is such a sense of untrammeled joy in this tanka. And what a final image!
—Alan Peat
The Cherita, Book 81, December 2023
Issue: "lighthouse keeper"
no one promised
this life
would be easy
but without hardship
I would not have found
this pen, this brush
sky spirits
are dancing
tonight
my feet
begin
to tingle
long-awaited
this rain
that slakes the thirst
of a wizened earth,
grown old
before its time
deepening snow
footsteps
make no sound
but I can hear
my breath
singing
A Cherita Lighthouse Award
aspens are turning
into yellow wraiths
in the wind
soon,
they will be nothing
more than bones
A Cherita Lighthouse Award
marsh cattails
exploding
in the sun
I catch a bit of light
and put it
in my pocket
A Cherita Lighthouse Award
silver sage
graced
by moonlight
its scent
somehow
immortal
A Cherita Lighthouse Award
Tsuri-doro: A Small Journal of Haiku and Senryu, Issue #20, March/April 2024
snow fleas
no blood will be shed
today
Trash Panda, Volume 6, Winter 2023-2024
dead orchard
the random blue sparks
of woolly aphids
3rd Place, Irish Haiku Society International Contest, 2018
Laurels: Tanka Society of America Online Journal, Number 1, February 2024
My thanks to guest editor Richard L. Matta for including the following tanka for the theme: "a makeover: finding beauty in the broken"!
lying on this bed
of sun-warmed moss
and lichen,
I imagine myself
a fruiting body
Ink Sweat and Tears - The Poetry and Prose Webzine - February 2024
Word and Image: Pride Feature, February 26, 2024
Pride/Prejudice
Note: this paper weaving represents a broken flag and incorporates words culled from Jane Austen's "Pride and Prejudice" to reflect the ongoing erosion of LGBTQ2S+ rights
Humana Obscura, Issue Number 8, Spring 2024
Thrilled to have the following photograph selected for this issue!
Taking Leave
Heliosparrow Poetry Journal, February 2024
Thrilled to have the following two paper collages and four small poems featured on February 29, 2024:
Note: these paper collages incorporate phrases culled from my book, "Warp and Weft: Tanka Threads"
bones thinning the only part of me
flow state of the mind's ink
mackerel sky bones disintegrating into rain
echolalia
echolali
echolal
echola
echol
echo
ech
ec
e
Frogpond, Vol. 47, Number 1, Winter 2024
twilit snow
I follow the blueprint
of your journey
wind squall
the willow reclaims
its voice
Fresh Out: An Arts and Poetry Collective, March 2024
Curated by Eric. A. Lohman
Featured Artist: March 1, 2024
Note: "riven" was created by incorporating words culled from my book, "Warp and Weft: Tanka Threads"
Failed Haiku - A Journal of English Senryu, Volume 9, Number 98, February 2024
ice fishing
the catch and release
of breath
zombie fire
the pain that comes back
to life
Daily Haiga: An Edited Journal of Traditional and Contemporary Haiga, March 2024
Featured Artist: March 3, 2024
Note: this haiku was first published in Blithe Spirit 33.1, 2023
Featured Artist: March 15, 2024
Note: this haiku was first published in Tsuro-doro 14, 2023
Creatrix: Poetry and Haiku Journal, Number 64, March 2024
out-breath
a child catches it
in her mittens
frosted tent
our socks stand up
by themselves
ice storm
the rose hips preserved
for another day
Contemporary Haiku, Volume 19, Red Moon Press, 2024
Honoured to have this haiga chosen by Ron Moss for Contemporary Haibun!
Blithe Spirit, Volume 34, Number 1, February 2024
morning worship
a tuft of moss inside
the icicle
skyscrapers
the stop-start of wind
and worry
we come upon
the scattered bones
of a wild horse . . .
strange cacti sprouting
from desert sands
Akitsu Quarterly, Spring/Summer 2024
fledged robin
a discarded kettle
lined with mud
air traffic
an oodle of gannets
churns up the sky
beaver dam
salmon seek refuge
from the drought
pasture gate
the buck squeezes through
one antler at a time
Honoured to have the following haiga selected for the inner front cover:
Monday, February 19, 2024
Tinywords, Issue 23.2, January 2024
Note: this haiku first appeared in The Bamboo Hut, Spring 2019, and this haiga first appeared in Cantos, March 2023
The Bamboo Hut, Number 1, February 2024
Delighted to have the following artworks selected for this issue. My thanks to the editor, Steve Wilkinson!
Steel Jackdaw, Edition 13, January 2024
The results of the 2023 Gloucestershire Poetry Society Haiku Competition appear in this issue. My thanks to the esteemed judge, Alan Summers, for selecting the following two poems, and for his insightful commentary:
geriatric ward
burning matchheads
begin to droop
Highly Commended
Commentary:
The almost visceral 'burning matchheads begin to droop' at a geriatric ward could be anything from someone with dementia, to someone having secret vices, or it can be possibly figurative imagery. It feels like an opening scene, or even closing scene, to a film or serial drama.
...haiku contain sabishii which can mean "I'm lonely." Japanese people might culturally mean it as "I'm lonely as I'm not with you" instead of the phrase "I miss you."
summer heat battling another swarm of explosive drones
Merit
Password: Journal of Very Short Poetry, Issue 1.1, January 2024
soldier's epitaph highly decorated with badges of lichen
environmental racism along with everything else
The Pan Haiku Review, Issue 2, Winter 2023
The Kigo Lab Issue: New Year's Eve, 2023
canyonlands
a meadowlark sings
me out of myself
1st Place
Drifting Sands Monuments #1 Contest, 2022
points of light
beneath the snow . . .
kinnikinnick
(note: kinnikinnick = common bearberry - berries stay on the plant through winter, unless the birds and bears eat them all!)
Our Best Haiga: Black & White Haiga/Haisha, February 2024
Curated by Lavana Kray
February 18, 2024
(Note: this haiga, in colour, received an Honourable Mention in the traditional category of the 2023 Jane Reichhold Memorial Haiga Competition)
Our Best Haiga: Black & White Haiga/Haisha, January 2024
Curated by Lavana Kray
January 6, 2024
(Note: this tanka was first published in Ribbons 17.3, 2021)
January 26, 2024
(Note: this haiga was first published, in colour, in Contemporary Haibun Online 19.2, 2023)
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