Haiku 1, August 2011
WHR August 2011
Haiku Final selection
Leys Farm by Susumu Takiguchi
Again, a vast amount of submissions of haiku was made. One welcome trend which has begun to emerge is that poets are starting to attempt at writing something new, different and interesting rather than blindly following the predominant main stream of world haiku, which has now become more than boring. These attempts are not necessarily successful, which is the cost of such efforts. However, in a sense that is not the point. The real point is that it is heading in a right direction, leading, it is keenly hoped, to better things. Some of them, for this reason, I have selected for this issue even if their quality is not the highest.
As usual, those haiku which fall in the category of Vanguard haiku were few and far between. This is the radical end of all haiku. I urge poets to have courage, open mind and imagination to venture into this exciting zone of haiku. For those who are unfamiliar with our classification of haiku I reprint below the guidance published in the last issue with some modification.
…Some people are asking what on earth is Shintai haiku, or Vanguard haiku. The classification is just like the index titles of a filing cabinet in order to avoid unnecessary polemics about what is and what is not haiku. There are now so many different varieties of haiku that defining haiku seems to me to be almost like fighting a losing and pointless battle. So much so that we had better say that “Haiku is haiku if the author says so.” All that remains to be done is to ask the only right and essential question: Is it then good as a poem?
All haiku poems can conveniently be divided into three categories according to how traditional or radical they are. This is more of a practical classification than of an academic one. The most traditional end is grouped together under the Neo-classical with stringent kigo or 5-7-5 rules. The most radical (freest) end is classified as the Vanguard. Anything between these two falls into the Shintai (or new-style). The borderline cases can go either category depending on the perception of a haiku poet who creates or reads them. And whichever category they may go, it does not matter. Such a preoccupation is “academic”…
Neo-Classical Haiku
First Place
Tonight let’s seesaw
between heaven and earth
on the crescent moon
Riitta Rossilahti
Second Place
hidden pond
frog after frog echoes
the one before
Bruce Ross
Third Place
tuffo di rana
riecheggia il suono in mille
piccole onde
frog's plunge
the sound echoes throughout
thousand small waves
Felice Vinci
Seven Honourable Mentions (In no particular order)
a black-yellow moth...
on the wall of our home, the day
after my sister-in-law died
Natsumi kosuge
cemetery
does the summer wind go
where you have gone
André Surridge
with the world at rest
the firefly becomes busy
lighting the darkness
Priscilla Lignori
Zatsuei,
(In no particular order in terms of merit but mostly in the alphabetical order of authors’ surname)
past the chimney
December stars
shiver
Steve Addiss
Summer dawn
bamboo leaves rustle
earth song.
Siddhartha Borkakati
evening sunlight
threading the mist
pine needles
Nana Fredua-Agyeman
lavender spikes
tangled in bindweed
morning heat
Ann K. Schwader
announcing the rain
smell of
the parched earth
Gillena Cox
first warm day
the kitchen wind chime
finds its voice
Susan Constable
under a leaf
wandering caterpillar
summer's end
evening shower
swimming pool filling
into laughter
summer sunset –
changing colour of
rising waves
Ramesh Anand
love to smell
the neighbour’s red roses-
they grow over my fence
Winona Baker
at the edge of summer
going more slowly
through the rain
Gerd Boemer
a butterfly
bangs into my head –
summer’s end
Owen Bullock
summer breeze –
the load of
heavy-limbed poplars
Sharon Burrell
after the fireworks
crescent moon sinks in the west
fourth night in July
Stephen Colgan
a spider
hanging by a thread . . .
midnight moon
Susan Constable
lightening strike
uplifted saguaro arms
in a monsoon sky
John Daleiden
after the rain –
the lilac fragrance
covers the moon
Ioana Dinescu
pregnant ground hog
my summer garden
her feeding ground
rising sun
two red-tailed hawks
hovering over Lake Biwa
Raffael de Gruttola
starless sky
fireflies move in and out
of darkness
Nana Fredua-Agyeman
late autumn dusk...
I cannot quite close the lid
on the garbage can
Sari Grandstaff
Summer breeze
a newly blossomed flower
nods at the table fan
Lars Granström
A woodcock nests
beak-deep in snow
little black eye on me
John Hamley
garden wedding
a grasshopper rides
the bridal train
William Hart
cloudless might
mid-august shower
of meteors
Lois E. Harvey
after an illness
the sweet smell
of fresh cut grass
Peggy Heinrich
two white butterflies
circle each other and me
our hearts fluttering
flat heat of the day
dust clouds, clicking grasshoppers
still life everywhere
Anne Hills
meadow pond
a flurry of white wings
the heron and its image
Elizabeth Howard
this autumn evening
alone with yesterday, today
and tomorrow
Marie Shimane
long summer night a locomotive chugs across my dream
Alan S. Bridges
rain dance
brings only
clouds of dust
shanna moore
widower’s garden
her roses bloom
side by side with weeds
Victor P. Gendrano
or Haiku of Merit
The ants line up
towards the syrup
for hummingbirds
Liette Janelle
I would like to sing
Like a warbler at the dawn,
With a voice of God.
Douglas F. Johnson
Wistfully watching,
Light showers falling on jade leaves,
Child clutching at bars...
Charanjeet Kaur
red watermelon
cold and sweet to the tongue
summer drought
Howard Lee Kilby
a train journey...
I sit backwards, watching
the cornfield pass by
Natsumi Kosuge
morning broomstick,
collects crisp leaves,
a funeral mound
Snehith Kumbla
Gently his fat weight
sinks the lily pad—and yet,
the frog is himself
David E. LeCount
between the gravestones
where the lawnmower can't reach --
purple irises
Priscilla Lignori
Moonlit bird flies off --
a shadowy branch
tap, taps the window
CaroleAnn Lovin
a bat in the summer twilight
flit flies in a jittery circle
Patrick Mizelle
in the space between
star dust and your blue eyes
heaven twinkles
shanna moore
carrying
the last rays of the sun
kite goes home
Aju Mukhopadhyay
The earthly tremor
shows the land's solar resolve
the people rise again
Ravaged by earthquake
a child finds her family
a mud-coated photo
Surendra Munshi
half lotus . . .
the constant drone
of flies
Nika
summer dusk
hiking alone
I am not lonely
Marian Olson
leaves sparkle, shimmer...
sun glares on blades of grass...
Summer screams GREEN!
George Power,
cotton pyjamas
patterned with red hearts –
how many summers left?
Patricia Prime
sweltering heat
the frog won't move
for the weeding
Bruce Ross
spent peony
the next breath of wind
its last
longest day
one weed after
another
Ann K. Schwader
magnolias—
the beauty of endurance
in a shaken world
Marie Shimane
sudden summer rain -
another rinse cycle
for this week’s laundry
John R. Snyder
open windows –
from the garden I can hear
the neighbor’s long shower
John R. Snyder
wizened apples –
all the words I didn’t say
still on the tree
Richard Stevenson
Hot summer night -
Fire outlines distant hills...
Cool full moon looks on
Shalini Sunkuru
ice-cream chimes...
piercing the humid air
a little girl's scream
André Surridge
sunset view -
from balcony roof to wall
the spin of spiders
izak bouwer
the moon so pure
a meandering river carries it
as I watch
Anna Yin