9th Contest Selected Haiku Collection
floodwater . . .
muddy toys dangle
from branches
jelly jars
on the windowsill
twilight ripens
Sunday, July 30, 2017
Write Like Issa: A Haiku How-To, May 2017
first snow . . .
three deer asleep
in my garden
Editor's Comments:
Note that Issa has loaded these and all of our previous examples with emotions without relying on overtly emotional words. He lets his images speak for themselves, and they speak volumes. This is an important secret of great haiku.
Twenty-first century poets Deborah P. Kolodji, Julie Warther, and Debbie Strange have learned this secret. They offer the following haiku as examples of verses imbued with Issa-like perspective and Issa-like compassion, their emotions encoded in pure imagery...
These poems are not parodies of Issa; they are original works of art for which the poets have adopted Issa's habits of mind. First, they stretched their imaginations to visualize what this world might look and feel like to fellow denizens...
In the third example Strange suggests an abiding, shared sense of peace and security under the year's first snowflakes. The deer doze peacefully, while the poet, beyond mere tolerance of their presence, honors and celebrates it. The herbivores that she might chase off with a broom in warmer seasons adopt the poet's garden as their safe dormitory—and all is right with the world.
All three poets have learned Issa's lesson of imagining a fellow creature's perspective to the point that "it" and "I" become "we": sharing both space and consciousness. In addition, all three poets, like Issa, deftly allow their images alone to convey emotion. In the art of haiku, that which is unspoken often speaks the loudest.
three deer asleep
in my garden
Editor's Comments:
Note that Issa has loaded these and all of our previous examples with emotions without relying on overtly emotional words. He lets his images speak for themselves, and they speak volumes. This is an important secret of great haiku.
Twenty-first century poets Deborah P. Kolodji, Julie Warther, and Debbie Strange have learned this secret. They offer the following haiku as examples of verses imbued with Issa-like perspective and Issa-like compassion, their emotions encoded in pure imagery...
These poems are not parodies of Issa; they are original works of art for which the poets have adopted Issa's habits of mind. First, they stretched their imaginations to visualize what this world might look and feel like to fellow denizens...
In the third example Strange suggests an abiding, shared sense of peace and security under the year's first snowflakes. The deer doze peacefully, while the poet, beyond mere tolerance of their presence, honors and celebrates it. The herbivores that she might chase off with a broom in warmer seasons adopt the poet's garden as their safe dormitory—and all is right with the world.
All three poets have learned Issa's lesson of imagining a fellow creature's perspective to the point that "it" and "I" become "we": sharing both space and consciousness. In addition, all three poets, like Issa, deftly allow their images alone to convey emotion. In the art of haiku, that which is unspoken often speaks the loudest.
—David G. Lanoue
The Zen Space, Summer Showcase, 2017
1) inscriptions - tanka without art appeared in Atlas Poetica, 2016
2) ocean waves - tanka without art appeared in Blithe Spirit, 2016
3) river stones - tanka without art appeared in cattails, 2016
4) these stones - tanka without art appeared in cattails, 2016
Red Lights, Vol. 13, Number 2, June 2017
a trunk full
of frayed ballet slippers . . .
your feet,
broken reminders
of the pageantry of pain
we march
in our pink hats
s t a i n e d
with the blood
of our bodies
bouquets of clouds
on a cornflower day
wherever you are
I hope your wild blood
is singing hallelujah
of frayed ballet slippers . . .
your feet,
broken reminders
of the pageantry of pain
we march
in our pink hats
s t a i n e d
with the blood
of our bodies
bouquets of clouds
on a cornflower day
wherever you are
I hope your wild blood
is singing hallelujah
Prune Juice, Issue 22, July 2017
sheet lightning
my hands find the bones
of your hips
turbulence
so many unaired
grievances
teaching him how
to make cookies . . .
summer snow
my hands find the bones
of your hips
turbulence
so many unaired
grievances
teaching him how
to make cookies . . .
summer snow
Presence, Number 58, July 2017
on the taiga a glimpse of something bigger
mountain goats on a scree slope the sound of rain
hand-me-downs . . .
my sister's boots
take me home
a bull moose
ploughs through snow . . .
we follow,
sinking deeper
into ourselves
mountain goats on a scree slope the sound of rain
hand-me-downs . . .
my sister's boots
take me home
a bull moose
ploughs through snow . . .
we follow,
sinking deeper
into ourselves
Moonbathing, Issue 16, Spring/Summer 2017
on this day
of my atonement
your face
a fragile watermark
at the edge of sky
of my atonement
your face
a fragile watermark
at the edge of sky
Modern Haiku, Vol. 48.2, Summer 2017
boundary lines
every fence post topped
with a baseball cap
last campout . . .
sandhill cranes call down
the northern lights
Honourable Mention
Robert Spiess Memorial Haiku Award Competition for 2017
Judge's Comments:
The first line implies autumn, which implies migration of the sandhill cranes to their wintering grounds. There is much to be found between the lines of this poem. I can see sparks from the campfire drifting upward in the night. Then into the camper's consciousness, the wonderful, rattly yodels of the cranes, followed by the waves and ripples of the northern lights. If I were the camper, I might think, "A heavenly light show and cranes on the move; all's right with the world."
every fence post topped
with a baseball cap
last campout . . .
sandhill cranes call down
the northern lights
Honourable Mention
Robert Spiess Memorial Haiku Award Competition for 2017
Judge's Comments:
The first line implies autumn, which implies migration of the sandhill cranes to their wintering grounds. There is much to be found between the lines of this poem. I can see sparks from the campfire drifting upward in the night. Then into the camper's consciousness, the wonderful, rattly yodels of the cranes, followed by the waves and ripples of the northern lights. If I were the camper, I might think, "A heavenly light show and cranes on the move; all's right with the world."
—Ferris Gilli
Hedgerow Poems, Number 116, June 2017
Resident Artist
Creatrix 36, March 2017
More Grows in a Crooked Row, 2016
Wordless: Haiku Canada - 40 Years of Haiku, 2017
gone too soon
sakura blossoms
my old friends
Sakura Award, Canada
Vancouver Cherry Blossom Festival
Haiku Invitational, 2015
This haiku was written in memory of two old friends who passed away within a couple of months of each other.
rocky ledge
a wolf with the moon
in its mouth
3rd Prize, Irish Haiku Society
7th International Haiku Competition, 2015
This haiku was inspired by a camping trip in Manitoba. We were on a moonlit quest to photograph northern lights, when we were alerted to the presence of a wolf in the rocky area nearby.
It was especially sweet to share news of this honour with our relatives in Ireland, and to be "the first ever Canadian prize-winner in our competition", according to the organizers.
sakura blossoms
my old friends
Sakura Award, Canada
Vancouver Cherry Blossom Festival
Haiku Invitational, 2015
This haiku was written in memory of two old friends who passed away within a couple of months of each other.
rocky ledge
a wolf with the moon
in its mouth
3rd Prize, Irish Haiku Society
7th International Haiku Competition, 2015
This haiku was inspired by a camping trip in Manitoba. We were on a moonlit quest to photograph northern lights, when we were alerted to the presence of a wolf in the rocky area nearby.
It was especially sweet to share news of this honour with our relatives in Ireland, and to be "the first ever Canadian prize-winner in our competition", according to the organizers.
Frameless Sky, Issue 6, June 2017
scorched earth
the unresolved issues
between us
purple tea . . .
your broken cup warms
my hands
the unresolved issues
between us
purple tea . . .
your broken cup warms
my hands
Eucalypt, Issue 22, May 2017
in night winds
I hear your dulcimer
ring out . . .
the strings remember
how to say your name
Daily Haiku, Charlotte Digregorio's Writer's Blog, July 2017
antelope
the humming of wind
in barbed wire
Honourable Mention
Lyrical Passion Poetry World Haiku Competition, 2015
the stillness
of a dragonfly's wings
first frost
Judge's Choice
Craigleigh Press Haiku Poetry Contest, 2016
the humming of wind
in barbed wire
Honourable Mention
Lyrical Passion Poetry World Haiku Competition, 2015
the stillness
of a dragonfly's wings
first frost
Judge's Choice
Craigleigh Press Haiku Poetry Contest, 2016
Daily Haiku, Charlotte Digregorio's Writer's Blog, June 2017
gone too soon
sakura blossoms
my old friends
Sakura Award, Canada
Vancouver Cherry Blossom Festival
Haiku Invitational, 2015
sakura blossoms
my old friends
Sakura Award, Canada
Vancouver Cherry Blossom Festival
Haiku Invitational, 2015
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