A portfolio of 77 haiku published between 2013 and 2016 may be viewed at:
Wednesday, November 09, 2016
World Haiku Competition, Lyrical Passion Poetry E-zine, 2016
fog deepens
the sound of rabbits
nibbling night
Grand Prize
2016 World Haiku Competition
the sound of rabbits
nibbling night
Grand Prize
2016 World Haiku Competition
Failed Haiku - A Journal of English Senryu, Issue 11, November 2016
The following works received Honourable Mentions in the Mixed Media Category in the 2016 Jane Reichhold Memorial Haiga Competition:
Commentary:
Immersing myself in the spinning colours emerging from darkness, the words remind me of my favorite song sung by Pete Seeger "All My Life's a Circle." I love the mysterious quality the layering has created. Don't we all go around in circles and isn't it great when we find ourselves! The font and its size goes well with the image. The placement and colour and hue of the words could be played with more to echo the movement in its words and enhance the composition more. I really like the use "words & image" in the signature, but felt the hue could be toned down to blend in with the total effect of this delightful haiga.
Commentary:
Immersing myself in the spinning colours emerging from darkness, the words remind me of my favorite song sung by Pete Seeger "All My Life's a Circle." I love the mysterious quality the layering has created. Don't we all go around in circles and isn't it great when we find ourselves! The font and its size goes well with the image. The placement and colour and hue of the words could be played with more to echo the movement in its words and enhance the composition more. I really like the use "words & image" in the signature, but felt the hue could be toned down to blend in with the total effect of this delightful haiga.
—Kris Kondo
Commentary:
I was instantly captured by the colors and the interplay of the different elements. Fish in the sky drew me in right away and I quickly went to the words to help me find out what this wonder world could be about, and I wasn't disappointed. Mindscapes and a longing for a family pet to love - there was much to find here and I enjoyed the journey. The composition of the elements was handled very well and the digital collage works well. I also liked the font which is a design element that can achieve a lot with a fun playful font. I really enjoyed this one.
—Ron C. Moss
The Literary Review of Canada, November 2016
Vanishing Point
the last
grain elevator
demolished
our little town sinks
further into dust
we leave
wild blanketflowers
on your grave
hoping deer will come
to keep you warm
trees stand
against the horizon
so far
and few between
but, oh, this prairie sky
the last
grain elevator
demolished
our little town sinks
further into dust
we leave
wild blanketflowers
on your grave
hoping deer will come
to keep you warm
trees stand
against the horizon
so far
and few between
but, oh, this prairie sky
Tuesday, November 08, 2016
Prune Juice, Issue 20, November 2016
in the tracks
of a dog I wish were mine
snow sparkles
your scent
as strong now as then
rosemary
dark mourning
my cousin's name
on the news
a broken hook
the faded ribbons
of her apron
This issue also contains the announcement of winners of the 2016 Jane Reichhold Memorial Haiga Competition. I received two Honourable Mentions in the Mixed Media Haiga Category, and links to these works appear in the November Issue of Failed Haiku: A Journal of English Senryu.
of a dog I wish were mine
snow sparkles
your scent
as strong now as then
rosemary
dark mourning
my cousin's name
on the news
a broken hook
the faded ribbons
of her apron
This issue also contains the announcement of winners of the 2016 Jane Reichhold Memorial Haiga Competition. I received two Honourable Mentions in the Mixed Media Haiga Category, and links to these works appear in the November Issue of Failed Haiku: A Journal of English Senryu.
Skylark, Vol. 4, Number 2, Winter 2016
a fish
falls from the sky
what magic
when eagles dance
talon-to-talon
falls from the sky
what magic
when eagles dance
talon-to-talon
Modern Haiku, Vol. 47.3, Autumn 2016
snowed in
the rounded shoulders
of my mother
emergency flares
above us the crackle
of northern lights
the rounded shoulders
of my mother
emergency flares
above us the crackle
of northern lights
Hedgerow Poems, Number 95, November 2016
Resident Artist
These haiku, without visual art, originally appeared in Blithe Spirit in 2016.
Daily Haiku, Charlotte Digregorio's Writer's Blog, November 2016
on the tundra
caging a winter sky
caribou bones
3rd Place
2014 Hortensia Anderson Awards
United Haiku and Tanka Society
caging a winter sky
caribou bones
3rd Place
2014 Hortensia Anderson Awards
United Haiku and Tanka Society
Atlas Poetica, Number 26, October 2016
inscriptions
etched on roadside cliffs
permanent
reminders of all that is
impermanent
the pain
of this invisible
disability
today, I choose to wear
a quiet cloak of strength
oceans within
unbounded skies without
somewhere between
hollow feathers and flukes
so many ways to sing
muskmelons
and golden chanterelles
even their names
linger on the palate
of my motherless tongue
etched on roadside cliffs
permanent
reminders of all that is
impermanent
the pain
of this invisible
disability
today, I choose to wear
a quiet cloak of strength
oceans within
unbounded skies without
somewhere between
hollow feathers and flukes
so many ways to sing
muskmelons
and golden chanterelles
even their names
linger on the palate
of my motherless tongue
Tuesday, October 18, 2016
KYSO Flash, Issue 6, Fall 2016
Coming Undone
She always wore the same sweater. I've kept it all these years, and I wear it whenever my memories of her start to fade. Today, the last button came off, and I put it in the sweater's frayed pocket for safekeeping. When it slipped through a hole, and dropped between the floorboards, I finally realized that she was never coming home.
heirloom quilt
sparrow prints embossed
on new snow
Second Publisher's Choice Award, KYSO Flash HTP Writing Challenge
Commentary by KF Editors:
This little button of a haibun reminds us of the set-up in "The Last Leaf" by O. Henry, in which the consumptive young woman thinks that she'll die when the last leaf falls outside her window. "Coming Undone" avoids any clever plot twists and aims directly at the heart in a spare and effective way.
She always wore the same sweater. I've kept it all these years, and I wear it whenever my memories of her start to fade. Today, the last button came off, and I put it in the sweater's frayed pocket for safekeeping. When it slipped through a hole, and dropped between the floorboards, I finally realized that she was never coming home.
heirloom quilt
sparrow prints embossed
on new snow
Second Publisher's Choice Award, KYSO Flash HTP Writing Challenge
Commentary by KF Editors:
This little button of a haibun reminds us of the set-up in "The Last Leaf" by O. Henry, in which the consumptive young woman thinks that she'll die when the last leaf falls outside her window. "Coming Undone" avoids any clever plot twists and aims directly at the heart in a spare and effective way.
Vancouver Cherry Blossom Festival, Haiku Invitational, 2016
sakura
in the garden centre
we choose her name
Honourable Mention
Sakura Award, Canada
in the garden centre
we choose her name
Honourable Mention
Sakura Award, Canada
Inkling Press - More Grows in a Crooked Row: Tanka Conversations of Angela Leuck, 2016
More Grows in a Crooked Row is comprised of responsive tanka conversations between Angela Leuck and 15 Canadian poets.
My contribution to a tanka conversation with Angela Leuck follows:
Broken Resolutions
New Year's morn
the air hangs heavy
with ice fog
and the acrid smoke
of broken resolutions
on groundhog day
we speak of shadows
etched on snow
forgetting how we lengthen
into filaments of light
while a snow lion
roars outside our door
you tame me
with the fire in your hands
until I tremble like a lamb
a robin's trill
fades into evening
how green
the scent of longing
after the first rain
I still wear
her frayed sweater
on Mother's Day—
are we ever resigned
to being orphaned?
a perigee moon
the polished stone
at my breast
waxing and waning
with every breath
our paddles
stirring twilight
into the lake
after all these years
the stars in our eyes
four sisters
shared a bedroom
on the farm
now we harvest memories
from summer fallow fields
at the hospice
another little bird
hits the window
we'll always wonder
what father tried to say
maple leaves
and geese take flight
I, too, am restless
as autumn writes
the poetry of storms
poppies
on street corners
the wounds
we carry in our hearts
bleed into winter skies
solstice
the northern lights
shape-shift
over frozen prairie
I curl my hand into yours
My contribution to a tanka conversation with Angela Leuck follows:
Broken Resolutions
New Year's morn
the air hangs heavy
with ice fog
and the acrid smoke
of broken resolutions
on groundhog day
we speak of shadows
etched on snow
forgetting how we lengthen
into filaments of light
while a snow lion
roars outside our door
you tame me
with the fire in your hands
until I tremble like a lamb
a robin's trill
fades into evening
how green
the scent of longing
after the first rain
I still wear
her frayed sweater
on Mother's Day—
are we ever resigned
to being orphaned?
a perigee moon
the polished stone
at my breast
waxing and waning
with every breath
our paddles
stirring twilight
into the lake
after all these years
the stars in our eyes
four sisters
shared a bedroom
on the farm
now we harvest memories
from summer fallow fields
at the hospice
another little bird
hits the window
we'll always wonder
what father tried to say
maple leaves
and geese take flight
I, too, am restless
as autumn writes
the poetry of storms
poppies
on street corners
the wounds
we carry in our hearts
bleed into winter skies
solstice
the northern lights
shape-shift
over frozen prairie
I curl my hand into yours
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