Friday, November 17, 2017

Scryptic Magazine First Annual Halloween Contest 2017

Judge's Choice - Visual Art


I wear
a different mask
each night
no one but you knows
the monster in me






Judge's Comments:

Each of us have our own idea of "terrifying". For me, it's real-life monsters as I have come to face many in my short twenty-five years. This haiga really hits home for me and as soon as I saw it, I couldn't help but think it deserved an award. First of all, the image is startling. I love that you can't tell exactly what it is... dinosaur, fish, sea monster—it's just unclear, but I think that's what complements the tanka so well. I'm sure we have all met someone who wears a mask and leads you to believe they are someone they aren't. Those are the most terrifying of people. They prey on your vulnerability and wait for the right moment to attack. What takes the horror a step further is that only you know who they really are. All I can say is be careful who you put your trust in... the real-life monsters are the ones that can really hurt you.


Note:

The art is based on my black-and-white photograph of a bleached fish skull. I inserted a stick into the cavity and held it up to the sky so that the background would be free of distraction.


The following tanka art also appeared in the print issue:





Haiku Canada Review, Vol. 11, Number 2, October 2017

Front Cover - (Watercolour Avocet)





Back Cover


early snow
pumpkins hide
their light

***********************************************************************************

the droop
of mother's smile
mudslide


rooibos
we can almost taste
the sunset


haikutensilences


eclipsenso




Hedgerow Poems, Number 121, Autumn 2017

Print Edition






Thursday, November 09, 2017

Cattails, October 2017

brush strokes
of wings against
blank skies . . .
how can I write
these words to you


pancake ice
on the lake's surface . . .
stepping stones
to some other life,
on some other shore


guitar lick
the dog teaches me
a new one


polliwogs . . .
the ripple effect
of music

World Haiku Association, October 2017

157th Monthly Haiga Contest


VerseWrights, 2017

Haiku Sequence (individual poems previously appeared in Brass Bell)


Sisters

first chemo
a yellow leaf caught
in her hair

day moon
(dis)appearing
sister's thin face

squash blossom
creases form between
her brows

fingerprints
on yellowed recipes
she is here, still

planting a Three Sisters garden we remember you


They Gave Us Life: Celebrating Mothers, Fathers & Others in Haiku, 2017

Editor: Robert Epstein


quaking aspens . . .
we have inherited
mother's hands

(originally published in Modern Haiku, Volume 48.1, Winter-Spring 2017)






The Wonder Code: Discover the Way of Haiku and See the World With New Eyes, 2017

Editor: Scott Mason


cloudless sky
a pelican's pouch
full of light


(originally published in The Heron's Nest, Volume 18, 2016)

Tinywords, Issue 17.2, October 2017

I inhale
and my lungs fill up
with bees
though all hope is lost
there is still this hum


(originally published in Hedgerow Poems, December 2016)

The Cherita, Book 3, August 2017

Issue:  "Find Me"


so many songs

inside the harmonic curve
of my ribcage

there is wind, too,
but it learned the words
from me


my old home

the prairie
redolent with sage

nothing left,
but everything
I have been missing

Stardust Haiku, Issue 10, October 2017

wild rice
our paddles unfold
the clouds

NeverEnding Story, November 2017

Translated into Chinese by Chen-ou Liu


homeless child
spent cherry blossoms
in his hair


First Honourable Mention
2016 Craigleigh Press Haiku Contest


Chen-ou Liu's comments:

The emotionally and visually resonant juxtaposition of "homeless child" and "spent cherry blossoms" successfully creates a sense of poignancy, making readers wonder the fate of this homeless child.

Modern Haiku, Vol. 48.3, Autumn 2017

porch swing
songs where we least
expect them

The Mamba, Issue 4 - Africa Haiku Network, September 2017

open market
we taste the sound
of other languages


sundown
the lion's mane
on fire

On Down the Road, Haiku Society of America, Members' Anthology 2017

the whistle
of a wood duck . . .
her last breath


Honourable Mention
Betty Drevniok Award 2015

Mariposa, Number 37, Autumn/Winter 2017

the silver lake
without reflection
a mirror
that never shows me
what I want to see



Daily Haiku, Charlotte Digregorio's Writer's Blog, November 2017

blue sea glass
a man of war decays
in the sun


Honourable Mention
Lyrical Passion Poetry World Haiku Competition, 2015


Chrysanthemum, Number 22, October 2017

Translated into German






Brass Bell, November 2017

dark cavern
glow-worms where
my sister was


bedridden
my aunt only smiles
at birds


empty apartment
we fold mother's shadow
into boxes

Acorn, Number 39, Fall 2017

dense thicket
the undersong
of a thrush