WHR March 2018‎ > ‎

Haiku page 3

WHR March 2018

Vanguard Haiku



First Place



        icy loneliness

        under layers of aging

        the stigma still stings


Marie Shimane



Second Place



the storks' empty nest 
on the roof of the closed church... 
my unborn child

Natalia Kuznetsova


Third Place

in the gallery
everyone starts to look

Owen Bullock



Seven Honourable Mention 

(In no particular order)



        prayers for the dead

        do they too still desire

        the love we once shared


Marie Shimane



deafening silence 
in the old house for sale... 
voices from the past

Natalia Kuznetsova


neither the river

nor the shadow in it

knows about the human conflict


Aju Mukhopadhyay


first world war...

nostalgia for childhood

in grandpa's holster

Goran Gatalica



she notices the women
he notices

Owen Bullock




winter nostalgia -

beside a small morgue

windblown lullaby


Goran Gatalica


peace talks

the war wounds



Mohammad Azim Khan





(Haiku of Merit, in no particular order)


April Fools

cartoon furniture sketched

around a vagrant


Stephen Amor




deep in my dream 
a janitor's broom turns 
to a shovel 

Alexey Andreev 


what a snowfall 
I mistook your nails 
for roses 

Alexey Andreev 


grieving   the candle snuffed out
before it had a chance   to burn

Gabriel Bates



shrouded moon
she will never be mine

Gabriel Bates




a heavy sigh as I see 
the torn down spot 
of where my old house used to be

Niloufar Behrooz 



white swans by the lake 
flaunt their majestic figures-- 
poor lonely black crow. 

Niloufar Behrooz


sipping tea 
the dross gathers to shape 
your face. 

Niloufar Behrooz





it all went wrong when 
the road turned 
and we didn't

Niloufar Behrooz



trivia night…

drinks flow easier

than answers


Nancy Brady


outside the gallery
clouds seem so

Owen Bullock



Unsettled weather – 
the long queue 
for the dole.

Vassilis Comporozos


Sleeping with her 
dead granny’s photo 
in her little hand. 

Vassilis Comporozos 


young and weary

my visitor ID badge

from Tower One

Bill Cooper

ab ovo ...

in winter darkness

to be a child once again


Stefano d'Andrea

NOTE: ab ovo (from the egg) is a Latin phrase used by Horace, a Latin poet, in his Ars Poetica 147. It means that something is told since its beginning, its origins, or it dates back to them.


glass of Riesling –

the taste of what we did

among the vineyards


 Marie Derley



wandering cloud
the displaced boy sees
promised land

Ramlawt Dinpuia


Edgartown lighthouse

shrouded in dense fog as the

ghosts of whalers pass


Michael Ditchfield


carer George —

crazy, lonely and friendly enough

to be a palliative warrior


Malachi Doyle



white crows

granny sending

postcards from heaven


Radostina Dragostinova


childhood trauma

the teddy bear

missing one eye


Rebecca Drouilhet


breaking up -

her silhouette

in the bedroom window


Jay Friedenberg



warm water dive

a lunar landscape

of bleached coral


Jay Friedenberg



gentle breeze

she slips off

her camisole


Jay Friedenberg



war zone mongrel 
in a dog eat dog world 
a corpse scoffed 

Mike Gallagher



Feathery jewels

Amethyst and emerald

Ducks’ heads in the sun


Katarina Graah-Hagelbäck


Certain words have sticky feet

They walk all over my soul

Leaving nasty prints


Katarina Graah-Hagelbäck




Names and dates on a tombstone

One’s identity preserved

For eternal indifference


Katarina Graah-Hagelbäck



grandpa’s gone

too soon I rush to be there

too soon too late


Jim Grotkowski 


frogs croak, skip a stone

ripples and splashes

thirteen! silence


 Jim Grotkowski


in my head...

dad’s favourite

jazz riff


Samantha Sirimanne Hyde

night vigil...

listening to your

last breath

Samantha Sirimanne Hyde



white hair
the flowers I do not have
in my garden

Angiola Inglese



marble flowers -
the mother’s grave visited
by my memories only

Dan Iulian

this year, again, 

those on our Christmas list 
who have passed on 

Jeanne Jorgensen


old man 

struggles ...

eyes on eyelets


Mohammad Azim Khan



by the lake

he is looking for a path

from the childhood


Nina Kovacic



their anniversary;

no one left to



Adele Krusz




the waning moon 

captured in the disused well... 
old-age seclusion

Natalia Kuznetsova



childhood locked 
behind the dollhouse door - 
the garage sale

Natalia Kuznetsova



sunset on the sea... 
I see dawn far away 
in my homeland

Natalia Kuznetsova


Valentine's Day news

the heavy-heartedness spreads —

a mass school shooting 


Priscilla Lignori 



as she taught me—

by the hearth


Martha Magenta



morning zazen
between my thoughts
the sound of the wind

Andy McLellan


talk of war...
the retired generals
twitter in the skies

Gennady Nov   



my thoughts held together

by untimed strings 


Vandana Parashar



greek coffee

...the bitter taste of

our argument


Vandana Parashar



old wallet

the disintegrating

bus tickets


Anthony Q. Rabang


on air
old songs
and shared tears

Brijesh Raj


wizened tree
the crumbling face
of my ego

Brijesh Raj

airport lounge
the prettiest smile reserved
for facebook
Brijesh Raj

vacant pillow

sadness visits

at night 


Robin Smith



hung upside down 
dried roses

Christina Sng


loud echoes
still trapped somewhere
my poems in me


Christina Sng



spindrift . . .

grief finally lets go

of me  


Debbie Strange


shiny wind -
even my shadow
filled with light

Maria Laura Valente

we scatter cockscombs
and white tea in the river
where her youth once swam

Tyson West