were we ever
as free as columbines
dancing across
swathes of meadow
in red and yellow skirts
Welcome to this archive of my published poetry, photography and art. Thank you for allowing me to share my creative passions with you, and for taking the time to visit. Please be kind, and do not copy any of the content on this site without permission and attribution. All rights reserved © Debbie Strange. I unfold my origami self / and swim into a lake of fire / washing my hair in ashes / the crane-legged words / of a thousand burning poems.
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- Other Writing
- Photography Publications
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- A Year Unfolding: Haiku
- Mouth Full of Stones: Haikai eBook
- Prairie Interludes: Haiku eChapbook
- Random Blue Sparks
- The Language of Loss: Haiku & Tanka Conversations
- Three-Part Harmony: Tanka Verses
- Warp and Weft: Tanka Threads
Monday, June 03, 2019
Atlas Poetica, Number 37, 2019
Patricia Prime of New Zealand has written a lovely review of Three-Part Harmony: Tanka Verses for this issue. It may be accessed via the "Books and Reviews" page of this blog.
It was my honour to be invited to write a tanka sequence with the esteemed poet, an'ya, for this issue. My work appears in italics...
of kindred spirits
far apart
but soulful singing
keeps us close
sisters of the salt
on pendulum tides
I dreamt
the oracle of oceans
left your voice
inside an empty shell
for me to find at dawn
a sailor's sky
making the briny blue
palette purple
you are my second self
an ama freediver
kindred spirits
we take flight below
the waterline
bodies like quicksilver
among shoals of herring
november gale
mother mary's petrels
seeking shelter
we travel side by side
reflections in the surf
burnished
by pelagic winds
our bones
come to rest at day's end
upon each other's shores
It was my honour to be invited to write a tanka sequence with the esteemed poet, an'ya, for this issue. My work appears in italics...
of kindred spirits
far apart
but soulful singing
keeps us close
sisters of the salt
on pendulum tides
I dreamt
the oracle of oceans
left your voice
inside an empty shell
for me to find at dawn
a sailor's sky
making the briny blue
palette purple
you are my second self
an ama freediver
kindred spirits
we take flight below
the waterline
bodies like quicksilver
among shoals of herring
november gale
mother mary's petrels
seeking shelter
we travel side by side
reflections in the surf
burnished
by pelagic winds
our bones
come to rest at day's end
upon each other's shores
Monday, May 13, 2019
World Haiku, Number 15, 2019
Translated into Japanese
sepia postcards
from around the world
autumn leaves
weather vane
a horse leads us
toward home
snow mounds
the growing roundness
of her belly
Note: these haiku previously appeared in Brass Bell Haiku Journal
sepia postcards
from around the world
autumn leaves
weather vane
a horse leads us
toward home
snow mounds
the growing roundness
of her belly
Note: these haiku previously appeared in Brass Bell Haiku Journal
Tofino Poet Laureate - National Poetry Month Initiative, April 2019
Tofino Poet Laureate, Joanna Streetly, featured the following tanka on her blog for National Poetry Month Day 6 (April 6, 2019):
the ocean
was in a rage last night
but today,
these peace offerings
of blue mussels and kelp
1st Place
2018 Tanka Society of America Sanford Goldstein International Tanka Contest
the ocean
was in a rage last night
but today,
these peace offerings
of blue mussels and kelp
1st Place
2018 Tanka Society of America Sanford Goldstein International Tanka Contest
The Heron's Nest, Volume 20, 2018
snowed in the round silence of tumbleweeds
bulrushes
we lean into the songs
of blackbirds
carnival
the pink noise
of candy floss
bulrushes
we lean into the songs
of blackbirds
carnival
the pink noise
of candy floss
The Cherita, Book 23, February 2019
Issue: "the sound of water"
nostalgia
is woven into the fabric
of our conversations
hand-me-down memories
bringing comfort
to these old bones
I am
a daughter
of sea and wind
the saltation
of morning light
in my spindrift hair
my camera
languishes
inside a drawer
I feel the weight
of things even when
they are not here
nostalgia
is woven into the fabric
of our conversations
hand-me-down memories
bringing comfort
to these old bones
I am
a daughter
of sea and wind
the saltation
of morning light
in my spindrift hair
my camera
languishes
inside a drawer
I feel the weight
of things even when
they are not here
NeverEnding Story, April 2019
Translated into Chinese by Chen-ou Liu:
transience . . .
petal by petal
we let go
Winning Haiku (Canada)
2017 Vancouver Cherry Blossom Festival Haiku Invitational
Chen-ou Liu's comments: (excerpted from the judges' commentary)
"Transience encloses the world without and within each of us. Because we feel more secure when we have a sense of predictability, we develop a great capacity for denying a simple truth: that nothing stays the same. That can be a challenge, but the gentleness of "petal by petal" reminds us that we'll be just fine..."
transience . . .
petal by petal
we let go
Winning Haiku (Canada)
2017 Vancouver Cherry Blossom Festival Haiku Invitational
Chen-ou Liu's comments: (excerpted from the judges' commentary)
"Transience encloses the world without and within each of us. Because we feel more secure when we have a sense of predictability, we develop a great capacity for denying a simple truth: that nothing stays the same. That can be a challenge, but the gentleness of "petal by petal" reminds us that we'll be just fine..."
GUSTS, Number 29, Spring/Summer 2019
Honoured to have a lovely review of Three-Part Harmony: Tanka Verses included in this issue. It may be accessed via its tab on this blog. My gratitude to Maxianne Berger!
the gleam
of copper birches
in sunlight . . .
she wears her wounds
with gravitas
rainbows
spin from the crest
of a wave . . .
I wish we'd had more
time to say goodbye
the borrowed
identities of frogs
and butterflies . . .
sometimes she cannot
recognize my face
the gleam
of copper birches
in sunlight . . .
she wears her wounds
with gravitas
rainbows
spin from the crest
of a wave . . .
I wish we'd had more
time to say goodbye
the borrowed
identities of frogs
and butterflies . . .
sometimes she cannot
recognize my face
#FemkuMag: An E-zine of Women's Haiku - Issue 11, April 2019
wolf moon light falls across your still face
social
constructs
evergreens
bowed
down
with
snow
Dad's books . . .
the thumbprints of who
he used to be
social
constructs
evergreens
bowed
down
with
snow
Dad's books . . .
the thumbprints of who
he used to be
Daily Haiku, Charlotte Digregorio's Writer's Blog, April 2019
rapid transit
the coming and going
of magnolias
Judges' Favorites
Golden Triangle Haiku Contest, 2018
rusted bucket
cherry blossoms patch
every hole
2nd Place
Second International Ohanami Haiku Contest, 2016
wild iris
a familiar song
in its throat
Runner-up, Readers' Choice Awards, 2018
Shamrock Haiku Journal
the coming and going
of magnolias
Judges' Favorites
Golden Triangle Haiku Contest, 2018
rusted bucket
cherry blossoms patch
every hole
2nd Place
Second International Ohanami Haiku Contest, 2016
wild iris
a familiar song
in its throat
Runner-up, Readers' Choice Awards, 2018
Shamrock Haiku Journal
Acorn, Number 42, Spring 2019
weathered oars
we fold our worries
into the river
we fold our worries
into the river
Friday, April 05, 2019
The Heron's Nest, Vol. 21, Number 1, March 2019
heirloom hollyhocks
I still see father kneeling
in a patch of light
I still see father kneeling
in a patch of light
The Haiku Foundation, March 2019
Haiku Music Challenge Number 7 - March 4, 2019
The Haiku Foundation chose three of their favourite compositions from the Naviar Records Haiku Music Challenge for the following poem:
transience . . .
petal by petal
we let go
Best Haiku, Canada
2017 Vancouver Cherry Blossom Festival Haiku Invitational
The Haiku Foundation chose three of their favourite compositions from the Naviar Records Haiku Music Challenge for the following poem:
transience . . .
petal by petal
we let go
Best Haiku, Canada
2017 Vancouver Cherry Blossom Festival Haiku Invitational
The Cicada's Cry: A Micro-Zine of Haiku Poetry, Winter 2018
silent night
the first tick of snow
against our tent
the first tick of snow
against our tent
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