Tuesday, October 01, 2019
Daily Haiku, Charlotte Digregorio's Writer's Blog, September 2019
fading dreams . . .
the golden smoke
of tamaracks
Runner-up
The Snapshot Press Haiku Calendar Competition, 2018
the golden smoke
of tamaracks
Runner-up
The Snapshot Press Haiku Calendar Competition, 2018
Creatrix Poetry and Haiku Journal, Number 46, September 2019
evening shadows
the ground squirrel's
thirteen stripes
dappled light
the invisibility
of fawns
the ground squirrel's
thirteen stripes
dappled light
the invisibility
of fawns
Colorado Boulevard Poets Salon, August 2019
I was delighted to be featured in the Colorado Boulevard Poets Salon (note name change from "Poetry Corner") on August 21, 2019, hosted and curated by Kathabela Wilson.
Though we may long for home, sometimes there are physical or emotional barriers to overcome before we take that first step...
Finding Our Way Home
Broken things in nature often renew themselves with a change in seasons, much in the same way that human interactions can be mended by spending time in nature, and in deeper communication with each other, with the world, and with ourselves.
nightly news . . .
a beaver changes
our world view
refugees
cross the border
in search
of better lives . . .
we open our arms
(Bridges to Cross)
(Doors to Open)
(Roads to Travel)
(Fences to Tear Down)
"And where we love is home, home that our feet may leave, but not our hearts. The chain may lengthen, but it never parts." (Oliver Wendell Holmes)
Australian Haiku Society, 2019
Honoured to say that the first two haiku were included in the PDF booklet featuring selected poems from the prompt!
for a moment
at the ocean's edge
plover prints
lark song
i finally believe
in something
stargazing
we come to terms
with our past
we come to terms
with our past
Atlas Poetica, Number 38, 2019
tanka sequence:
plainsong
taking lunch
to father in the field
we wend
our way through grain
and grasshopper song
w a i t i n g
for the hail to pass
hunkered down
between bales of hay
sisters holding hands
thunderclaps
ricochet across
the prairie
our singing lost
to wind and rain
a rainbow
arcs above our barn
scudding clouds
chase us toward the lilt
of grandmother's voice
plainsong
taking lunch
to father in the field
we wend
our way through grain
and grasshopper song
w a i t i n g
for the hail to pass
hunkered down
between bales of hay
sisters holding hands
thunderclaps
ricochet across
the prairie
our singing lost
to wind and rain
a rainbow
arcs above our barn
scudding clouds
chase us toward the lilt
of grandmother's voice
Saturday, August 24, 2019
Yamadera Basho Memorial Museum English Haiku Contest 2019
I decided to enter two 5/7/5 haiku this year, and was delighted to have them selected for the contest!
11th Contest Selected Haiku Collection
rising winter moon . . .
we drive across the prairie
alone with our thoughts
the departing spring . . .
he replaces online games
with a baseball glove
11th Contest Selected Haiku Collection
rising winter moon . . .
we drive across the prairie
alone with our thoughts
the departing spring . . .
he replaces online games
with a baseball glove
Morioka 1st International Haiku Contest, 2019
snowmelt
the wild crocuses
you loved
Second Prize (shared) - selected by Michael Dylan Welch
1st Morioka International Haiku Contest
the wild crocuses
you loved
Second Prize (shared) - selected by Michael Dylan Welch
1st Morioka International Haiku Contest
The Haiku Foundation, July 2019
Haiku Music Challenge Number 28 - July 27, 2019
The Haiku Foundation chose three of their favourite compositions from the Naviar Records Haiku Music Challenge for the following poem:
bioluminescence
I skip a pebble across
the universe
1st Place
2019 OtherWordly Intergalactic Haiku Competition
The Haiku Foundation chose three of their favourite compositions from the Naviar Records Haiku Music Challenge for the following poem:
bioluminescence
I skip a pebble across
the universe
1st Place
2019 OtherWordly Intergalactic Haiku Competition
The Cherita, Book 27, June 2019
Issue: "you bring me"
beachcombing
I empty myself
of this world
soothed
by wind on wave,
water on stone
beachcombing
I empty myself
of this world
soothed
by wind on wave,
water on stone
Tanka Origins, Issue 1, August 2019
Honoured to have two tanka chosen for this inaugural issue. My thanks to the editor, an'ya, for her lovely commentaries!
wildflowers
bloom inside my lungs,
every sense
alive with the fragrance
of this exquisite world
"How great is it to be able to actually breathe in this tanka by Debbie, and let those wildflowers also bloom in our lungs! Debbie makes good use of multiple "l" sounds throughout. This is a tanka that truly takes us on a journey out of the material world and into a realm where everything is exquisite, and our senses come alive with the fragrance of wildflowers."
peace lilies
sprout in my garden
heirlooms
nurtured with the love
you couldn't give me
"A beautiful tanka shared with us by Debbie who has such a classic way with words! She accomplishes this in the first three lines by talking of "peace lilies" and "heirlooms". However, she surprises her readers in lines four and five when the direction of this tanka takes a melancholy turn. Debbie is very much adept at creating a whole story in just five lines, as you can see in this tanka."
wildflowers
bloom inside my lungs,
every sense
alive with the fragrance
of this exquisite world
"How great is it to be able to actually breathe in this tanka by Debbie, and let those wildflowers also bloom in our lungs! Debbie makes good use of multiple "l" sounds throughout. This is a tanka that truly takes us on a journey out of the material world and into a realm where everything is exquisite, and our senses come alive with the fragrance of wildflowers."
peace lilies
sprout in my garden
heirlooms
nurtured with the love
you couldn't give me
"A beautiful tanka shared with us by Debbie who has such a classic way with words! She accomplishes this in the first three lines by talking of "peace lilies" and "heirlooms". However, she surprises her readers in lines four and five when the direction of this tanka takes a melancholy turn. Debbie is very much adept at creating a whole story in just five lines, as you can see in this tanka."
#FemkuMag: An E-zine of Womxn's Haiku - Issue 14, July 2019
hot (fl)ashes the combustibility of womxn's rights
Honourable Mention
Marlene Mountain Memorial Haiku Contest 2019
(note: the editor also nominated this poem for the 2019 Haiku Foundation Touchstone Awards)
(note: the editor also nominated this poem for the 2019 Haiku Foundation Touchstone Awards)
Other work included in this issue:
magpie the white streaks at my temples
surface tension
we hold it together
drop...by...drop
kudzu
pain
chokes
me
out
of
my
life
This issue also features the following triptych from my book, Three-Part Harmony: Tanka Verses (Keibooks 2018):
atonement
mute swans
under a moon bridge
the things
I should have confessed
make no difference now
the peace
that accompanies
forgiveness
after this long drought
an ecstasy of rain
on this day
of my atonement,
your face
a fragile watermark
at the edge of sky
1st verse: First Place, UHTS Fleeting Words Tanka Contest 2016
2nd verse: GUSTS, Number 25, Spring/Summer 2017
3rd verse: Moonbathing, Issue 16, Spring/Summer 2017
(thrilled to note that the magazine has now changed its name to reflect "womxn")
Blithe Spirit, Vol. 29, Number 3, August 2019
fallen wasp nest
a ladybird brightens
each chamber
rickety fence
a row of bluebirds
holds up the sky
lakeside camp . . .
an otter's soft splash
as it slips
under the edge
of my dreams
nightwalking
across heathland,
our boots
wet with the dew
of starlight
a ladybird brightens
each chamber
rickety fence
a row of bluebirds
holds up the sky
lakeside camp . . .
an otter's soft splash
as it slips
under the edge
of my dreams
nightwalking
across heathland,
our boots
wet with the dew
of starlight
Atlas Poetica Special Feature, August 2019
Death Poems
bind my body
with spanworm silk
lay me down
in a shaded garden
until I turn to earth
bind my body
with spanworm silk
lay me down
in a shaded garden
until I turn to earth
Akitsu Quarterly, Fall 2019
marsh reeds
we learn the secret
language of wind
intensive care
the last cuneiform
of snow geese
Mom's recipe . . .
my hollow pumpkin
a soup tureen
we learn the secret
language of wind
intensive care
the last cuneiform
of snow geese
Mom's recipe . . .
my hollow pumpkin
a soup tureen
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