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Our 2023 Haiku Competition is on now HERE.
WHO
Anyone in the world, of any age or background, may participate. Among members of the Society of Classical Poets, everyone including Advisory Board members may participate, if not involved in judging the contest. The winner, if not resident in the United States, must have a PayPal account or a bank that accepts US checks, in order to receive prize money.
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PRIZE
$100
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JUDGE
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WHEN
Now until August 15, 2022. Results to be announced August 30, 2022.
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WHERE
Post your entries in the Comments below.
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WHAT
Each competitor may submit up to three haiku of traditional form: three lines per poem with 5 syllables in the first line, 7 syllables in the second, and 5 in the third. Entrants are recommended to conform to other traditional haiku requirements outlined HERE. They should be new poems, written since the closing of the 2021 haiku competition. Although this competition is held in summer, haiku dealing with any season are acceptable.
If you want coaching on haiku features, please read the examples and explanation before submitting your entries. Once entries are posted, they can be revised or withdrawn ONLY by making another Comment. This is permitted until the competition closes, but do take reasonable care to complete work to your satisfaction before you enter it. Please do not use the Comment area as your scratch pad. That is discourteous to other competitors, to interested readers, and to the judge and will disqualify you.
Entries that do not meet basic traditional haiku requirements may be deleted. Anyone who submits more than three entries will have ALL his or her entries disqualified, unless excess entries are clearly withdrawn by a later Comment.
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PAST WINNERS
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Earth 16
Spring’s waters sing. They
are rushing, hiding, jumping,
pushing, laughing life.
Earth 17
Ebullient birds
finding sweet lilting freedoms
…pouring forth such…joy!
Little did the vampire know,
that the blood dripping from the rose
had poison in its petals.
Grabbing by the collar and
stabbing an envious scholar is relatively easy,
than slowly poisoning with words.
Your eyes burn too brightly,
like the stars twinkling in the sky;
unlike mine, the darkest night.
I don’t think blood has petals.
a frog hops on grass
wish i was as light as it
dancing in the rain
curtains drawn, i sit
my room mirroring a womb.
the sun, my mother
the clouds race, giggling
the high hills covered in mist
my home lies beyond
walking without shoes
my burdened soles feel the sand
of this tranquil beach
She sighs motherhood
as wind kisses leaves goodbye
dandelions weep
Crickets chirping loud
Morning dew cleanses fresh grass
Peeking Sun smiles, shy.
Nature beams, sated;
Soothed are souls ,content is life
Neath the divine drops.
The little robin,
singing of the autumn’s end
brings joy from his arm.
Behind the tall trees,
the cold winter has brought ice
On the deep black lake .
She sighs motherhood
as wind kisses leaves goodbye
dandelions weep
She sighs motherhood
as wind kisses leaves goodbye
dandelions weep
Weeds crawl out to feed
on rain’s deep melancholy
little bare feet run
Winter whispers death
life withers away, bowed down
the mole burrows deep
Three Haikus:
Warm air dissipates
A cool evening arrives
Dew rests on the grass
Wind scatters the sand
Sunlight beams of brilliance
Protected by shades
The plum tree’s leaves dance
The same rhythm as her hair
Partnered by the wind
Long winter journey
Cloaked in a blanket of snow
Asleep by the fire
Monsoon rain at last,
Trees open their palms in thanks;
Birds sing, frogs croak: joy!
moisture in wind
petrichor fills nostrils tsu
-nami’s seismic splash
a simple red thread
maps labyrinths for footsteps
like a minotaur
answer the koan
do dogs have buddha nature
stray dog are howling
a butterfly dreamt
being a human just once
but the wings were lost
Spring rain is falling.
The world begins to renew.
All is clean, for now.
The night becomes day.
Summer sun burns the horizon.
Awash with color.
Incessant rainfall
Inundates village cottage
Snake befriends human.
Himalayan monk
Meditates for lord Siva
Snow submerges hut.
corona virus
kills millions in all lands
like insects in fire.
The red onion
Is the opinion
Of the red roses.
Frost on my window
The harvest moon is rising
A golden leaf falls
Spring at her easel
Wielding a palette of green
Paints leaves on the trees
James, I am wondering… Wouldn’t
A golden leaf falls,
The harvest moon is rising.
Frost on my window.
work better in terms of a stanza before the third line?
Similarly
Painting leaves on trees
Wielding a palette of green
— Spring at her easel.
Hope you don’t mind. If I didn’t think you had it in you (unlike some other contributors here totally missing the spirit of haiku), I would not have written this comment.
Need to clear my mind…
A robin quivers and dips
Into a puddle
Swathe of goldenrod
Swaying in the summer breeze…
All that Debussy
Drifting into shore
The swan’s red intricacy…
Just a withered leaf
A riot of red—
maples’ farewell wave. We lose
leaves, but we gain sky
butterfly perches
then flits away, pollen-gorged
a rainbow with wings
light snowfall at first
soon buries the blue shovel
that we left outside
August occasion,
bells toll for school to resume—
my pupils contract.
Delicate white wings
dance over sun-kissed petals,
tipsy with nectar
Pretty patterns play
sparkling on the window pane,
crystal- cut rainbows
Golden daffodils
trumpeting the sun’s return,
the earth’s ode to love
A colleague paints these
exquisite watercolors
of fading tulips.
Gold leaf on a half-
heart stem comes down from heaven
on a strand of silk.
The snowflake falls like
a man’s life toward the ground
gentle and loving.
Sputtering wick’s flame
Contributes fading solace
Shivering; light strained.
footprints all around
across the waste a pathway
only for the blind
to see the sunrise
sometimes you’re obliged to go
where nights are endless
the road to nowhere
teems with swarms of en route stops—
each one’s a finish
HAIKU ON TWEETING
Birds’ reputation
Shaken by digital tweets
Indeed, some progress…
Are all tweets alike?
Digital rotten apple
Bad name comes quickly.
The real tweets from birds,
How soothing and sweet they are!
But digital tweets?!
Here is one of my haiku.
Squawks from up above
Black birds against pale blue sky
Crow calligraphy.
Three of my haiku.
petals of spun gold
sunflower on summer days
stoic in bright sun
duck in the koi pond
turtle watches from a log
Spring bull frogs singing
Twilight autumn woods
colorful leaves fall like rain
Owl stirs in an oak
Yellow butterflies
Flitting across green meadows
Like dancing sunshine.
Trees stretch twig fingers
Tickling the fat undersides
Of laughing clouds.
Strike
The lumberjack goes
to strike down the damp, cold oak –
the storm follows suit.
Today a kestrel
paused in your garden to drink
and you never knew
The two fell in love
The same way they fell out of it:
Searching for purpose.
The Warm Spring sunshine
Awakens the infant seeds
Sprouts climb out of bed.
And rain
Between sun
Temperate climate
Cold sun
Body afraid
Of touching water
Nightfall
Grandma in two clothes
August break
On the pale blue sky
Flocks of birds are writing poems
That clouds will erase.
Emory, this is the seventh haiku you have entered, although the limit is three. For ANY of your poems to be considered, please choose the best three, and reply here which ones you want to appear in the competition. Thank you.
On a pale blue sky
Flocks of birds are writing poems
That clouds will erase.
I would like to keep the following:
The warm spring sunshine
Awakens the infant seeds
Sprouts climb out of bed.
On the pale blue sky
Flocks of birds are writing poems
That clouds will erase.
Yellow butterflies
Flitting across green meadows
Like dancing sunshine.
The warm spring sunshine
Awakens the infant seeds
Sprouts climb out of bed.
On the pale blue sky
Flocks of birds are writing poems
That clouds will erase.
Yellow butterflies
Flitting across green meadows
Like dancing sunshine.
Thanks very much! I’m considering the above three haiku as your competition entries.
Hana of June 2022
(vs November 1987)
The road to Hana
Scented fruit stands on the way
What goes up comes down.
All the Gods fell out of the sky
Falling Into Earth
Earth Disappeared without the Sky Gods
Mississippi Into Amazon
Amazon into Nile
Nile into Danube One Earth now
I was mother’s helper
Now that She is Gone
Universe could Turn Purple and Die
God said to me “are you there?”
It is ok to be a person
and exist, talk, walk and speak”
I asked God “are you sure?”
Elvis, Did you really like us?
Well that was what the movie said
I learned a lot about you Thanks
James, you’ve entered four short poems, but the limit for the competition is three, and the entries need to be in traditional haiku form. Please reply here if you would like to withdraw any of your above entries, so that whatever haiku you might wish to enter can be considered for the competition. Thanks!
I think people submitting more than three haiku should be one of the disqualification test. There’s no need telling them to correct their inability to adhere to instruction.
You are quite right that there is no need for me to tell a person to follow the competition rules. But when I did this more than a month ago, I gave notice to everyone that I am taking these rules seriously. Since that time, several poets have corrected themselves–and we have fewer poets than last year who will be disqualified for submitting too many haiku. I try to provide a pleasant opportunity for us all, including those who didn’t understand some things at first. Thanks for your haiku and your contribution to the discussion!
Okay, ma. I can understand you quite well. It’s not easy judging these numerous haiku. Well done, ma.
Sea of clouds, still goes,
like the men walking, because
life heats up the quiz.
Ripe grapes they harvest,
carving fates – the best taste.
Wine dates, human jest.
Korean summer
Hot, sticky, humid, sauna
Tropical evening
My morning coffee
Cup of heaven in my cup
Black as hell itself
My love came in a dream
She must have been an angel
Sent to save my life
Perched on pergolas
on which the pristine snow falls
parakeets quiver
The robin red-breast
is the bird that announces
Yuletide is coming
Nothing better than
a ‘doppio espresso’
on a winter morn
The Morning Star dims.
Hail the rosy face of dawn.
A mad hare capers.
Skyscrapers in bloom.
Traffic connecting the dots.
Rain clouds cleanse the air.
the cold winter breeze
recalls the sound of her voice
her sad smile lingers
recalling my past
how cold cruel winter descends
upon youthful joy
my life travels time
with the seasons passing by
with no turning back
Hidden in a hole.
Majestic tarantula,
unfurls hairy limbs.
Grains of windblown sand
marching in dune formations.
Stars swarm the night sky.
Nature’s library –
deep of night demands silence…
a beetle goes crunch!
Still, glassy water
erases the horizon,
blending sea and sky.
Riding ceaseless waves
like spinning wheels of potters,
we’re ever-shifting.
Dotted eyelashes
gaze towards tumbling snowflakes—
Dandelions, blown.
muggy summer night
restless sleeper on the porch
old guard dog’s deep sigh
Delicious smell permeates
An expectant hush.
Hard white hot sunlight
Filters through amber curtains
In beige gold dapples.
Last crow of evening
Swings on the telephone line
Cawing’ at sunset.
A faded red rose.
A tear streams down my grieved face,
It can’t revive her.
A cold wintry night.
Our lives is like this snowflake:
A passing presence.
I wanted to write this second comment in order to revise one of the haikus I submitted; in fact, I have just realised that I made a grammar mistake in the second haiku. Here is the correction of the second haiku:
A cold wintry night.
Our lives are like this snowflake:
A passing presence.
Thank you in advance for your understanding.
Thanks for your courteous correction!
Crepe myrtle bursts forth–
A riot of small flowers
In pink explosion.
Good morning, ma. I forgot to tell you, I made a mistake in one of my submitted haiku which I have corrected. Just a word. I changed “children” to “students”. So, I had to submit the same three haiku again with only the one-word correction making the difference in the second one.
Please, ma, disregard the first submission and regard the second one.
Thank you.
I have noticed your revision, and the second version is counted as one of your three entries.
Daffodils spout sun
Into a smiling blue sky–
Like waving sunshine.
as a leaf bud
so is the joy of ending
life in a summer
Haiku You (or In Bad Taste)
On the beach: rain drops
splash my lips and stretched out tongue—
Splat! A gull dropping.
places of childhood –
the scent of forget-me-nots
stronger and stronger
early morning fog –
a path to somewhere filled with
a rustle of leaves
grandparents’ house loft –
the silence of deep autumn
in the spider webs
Star-filled, full-moon night
Frogs and crickets make music
For one little girl
Snake slithers away
Underneath the wooden fence
At the edge of town
Little river frog
Hiding under the sidewalk
When a dog goes by
Clouds float gracefully
Upon the whispering wind
Always in motion
The ocean’s waters
Wrap me in a warm blanket
Of cool, clear liquid
Shining dewdrops slide
To mark the coming of dawn…
Where has the night gone?
The sky is paper—
I am caught between it and
the next page, white field
New blooms on black trees
veiled in quiet bone-white fog:
spring’s dirge to winter
The sky, placid lake:
magnolia dips three pink
toes in its waters
Spring in blue lagoon
Oyster in nacre wraps pain
From pricking sand grain
No blossoms on boughs
Prophet’s feet on fallen leaves
Fragrance of greatness
Concentration camp
From the bottom barbed wire hangs
Skin scrape, frost-encased
around the wood stove –
the grandmother moved into
an endless story
woodland waterfall
a glistening tapestry
shrouded in its mist
the morning after
two cardinals cavorting
in a fallen tree
mushroom multitudes
popping up after the rain
a refugee camp
A blinding summer
rain strikes our patio and
stills all evening noise
Spring’s bright pear trees bear
no fruit, but delight us with
pink or white blossoms
Dark green tree top branches
sway crazily from an abrupt
afternoon summer breeze
Thanks Margaret Coats for including me, Joseph Buehler
Margaret, please consider the three poems I sent on July 5th. I realize now you only accept 3 poems. I sent 2 more today, so they don’t count. Joseph Buehler.
I am counting the above three posted July 5 as your entries. Thank you!
yellow zucchinis
sweat in sunlight’s gaze
supple, beeswax skin
sailboats hem the port
icy breeze braids through the waves
a glass tapestry
blush daisy petals
melt in thumbs and grass halos
a fleeting love
Fledglings in Springtime
Know not even how to ask
“Shall we see Autumn?”
Night before evening
Falls on stained-glass windowpanes.
Beauty is darkened.
taking out the trash
hungry for a fly the frog
shoots his slimy tongue
ripples in a pond
underneath the crescent moon
shines a million stars
bones beneath the ground
buried deep within a mound
dying to be found
Cherry blossoms high
Cherry picking time is nigh.
Cheery, cherry pie.
“Wind in the Willows.”
Pooh’s head resting on pillows
Honey? Two kilos.
Wind blowing like that
Upsets my calico cat
By knocking him flat.
The Sun is still there
On Winter nights but it is
Too dark to see it.
Templars’ hooves sling mud
Onto blades’ flashing fury.
Nostrils swell and snort.
Haiku
“Clear Dew” Ibuse
A turtle plods forth
to a wide and sandy beach:
the sound of water.
as per “Clear Dew” Ibuse:
The phrase “the sound of water” in Japanese is “mizu no oto”—水の音.
Thanks for clearing the dew! You are welcome to submit your haiku in both English and Japanese if you like.
Dreary August night
Full moon passing over ships
Whistling winds at sea
Brisk afternoon walk
Sun peek-a-booing through trees
Summer breeze cools me
Spring time marathon
Tunnel of sakura trees
Pink petal runners
puffer jackets at
the beach, littered with sandmen,
kangaroos sunbathe
I had trouble coming up with Australian kigo, but the challenge was fun.
scarecrow points the way–
to an unmanned rail station
rural migration
fallen soldiers in
rippling fields of golden wheat–
winds blow row on row
tithes for the stone church…
young boys who stole Christmas pines
hand back scented coins
Please note that this comment supersedes that of July 1st:
Mountains near Madrid
Still traced at the seams with snow…
Almond trees in bloom
Swathe of goldenrod
Swaying, surging in the breeze…
All that Debussy
Drifting into shore
The swan’s red intricacy…
Just a withered leaf
Golden stamens waft
Bumblebees fly love aloft
Pistil packing child
Tree figured by wind
Stretching beyond endurance
stately speaks of change
Autumn spider spins
Silk threads overwintering
Her offspring within
Title: Broken Hearts and Rotting Peaches
The worms are feasting
On the old sweetness of us
Like rotten peaches
————
Title: Playground Trees
Old bark is stripped down
By sticky, chubby fingers
Leaving raw amber
————
Title: Autumn
Leaves falling down to
Cold barren ground, orange and
Brown mix like fresh paint
The bird flies
when the tall tree falls
right to another, imminent fall
abyssal spring blue –
believing the sky closer
with each ascended floor
along the sea cliffs
the lifeblood of the planet
beats against the rocks
steam rising from pines
heated by the morning sun—
vap’rous ghosts set free
bare branches reach out
to the cold and distant sun;
it goes on its way
springs sun shone as new
whisper from a brilliant muse
this is a haiku
summer snow falling
flake-white feathers, bloody quill
red-tailed hawk flapping
autumn starlight falling
pale thin ghosts of fallen leaves
on the falling leaves
Fallen leaves again;
Trees are like feeling lonely —
But birds, will be back.
It is on the spring;
Birds are building their houses—
They will be chirping.
It’s on the winter;
Everything there, are in whites—
It is so frigid.
Black clouds in the sky
Rain drops falling one by one
Puddles on the ground
Hello, Annanya De,
If I may. Your reference to “black clouds” as a traditional haiku
element is absolutely brilliant. I enjoyed reading your pieces.
Thank you,
E. Owen
the wail of a loon
rising through the moonlit mist
unrequited calls
When the wind chime rang
On the porch, he was hanging
A new bamboo blind
Reeds, thatch, and bulrush
And rusty water fills them
Certain places were bright
In the paddy fields
Weaving in and out between them
The two of us walked
the silver lining
found in ascending mayfly
drawn to moonlit rays
tears of remembrance
as “Taps” bugle gently plays
somber autumn rain
Silently flowing
Banks wrapped in green and blossom
Sparkling stream in spring
Pretty pink flowers
Covering the tree branches
Spring’s cherry blossoms
I’m not sure I could
ever love somebody half
as damaged as you
bed hot twisted silk
sweat heavy cold and callous
his back turned to me
whispers in my ear
tugging so hard on my breasts
he never calls again
WHY HAIKU?
By Dan McCrory
The wind called her name
“Windy”: not unexpected.
Bad jokes imminent!
WHY NOT HAIKU?
By Dan McCrory
Sure, why not haiku?
You can stick words together
And they might make sense!
NOT ANOTHER HAIKU!
By Dan McCrory
Not one more haiku!
Stupid form of poetry
Short and confusing.
Golden gorse lined road
March brings unexpected sun
The future looks bright
Three Haiku by Veronica Jorge 7/15/2022
the erhu’s two strings
closely attached make music
the sound of our love
a coursing river
stepping stones to walk across
living words that guide
branches upward rise
touching sky, reaching heaven
outstretched arms in prayer
Judging another
Is like knowing which seeds,
will bud and bloom first.
SUMMER HAIKU
Sunlit dreamy days
Float through golden summer haze
Into memory
AUTUMN HAIKU
Musky amber scents
Swirl in sultry wistful air
Infusing my mind
WINTER HAIKU
White virgin snowflakes
Winter’s gems whisper to me
Immortality
humid afternoon—
lone monarch fluttering low
in long pine-shadow
rush hour traffic jam —
drifting across my windshield:
downtown thistledown
light snow blowing through—
a few flakes on my shoe, gone . . .
your hurry, flurries?
solitary bird
why sing you only of spring
outside my window?
I stole a flower
from nature’s bed, bottled it
now it is dying
the wildflowers of spring
dance happy in the backyard
till the mower comes
Fiddlehead croziers
Break the thawing ground to raise
Volute cathedrals.
________________________
Rainy tea harvest,
Early mist on leaf and grave —
Fragrant communion.
________________________
Hikers sit, sweating;
Anvil clouds breach horizon —
Earth drinks greedily.
Death-defying walk
Blossom-hued breathing
Sickness delayed
We’re getting ready
Cleaning the kitchen is first
Then my attitude
Creation demands love
Love demands creation
Delicious tyranny
Moon-lit summer night
golden pathway to the shore
shimmers on the sea
A Plant In a Pot
Glorifies The Morning Light
It Rest In The Night
The Scent Of Sweet Pine
Joy To My Nose Heart and Mind
My House Cleaned With Pine
Roots Turn and Do Loop
Trees Plants Flowers In One Troop
Drink Roots Morning’s Juice
under heaven’s blue,
picking berries, berries blue—
bluer still, this heart
a chevron of geese
flies aloft while acorns drop—
ending summer’s lease
August, long in tooth,
reveals canines through the haze—
renders dog-eared days
Dear Sister Corey, I’m Ever So thankful For Poetic Individuality.
Each Phase or Statement We Make Is From Our Own Heart Reality.
In Reading Your Work I See a Woman At Work, and Her Love In That Work.
Beneath the slick bridge
one dozen precocious koi
om in unison
Hi Dear Sister Lee, You Do Drop a Fine Line.
Foolow Writer Mary Continue To Shine.
Forgive Sister Lee For The Type O, I Meant Fellow Writer.
Rain drops in puddle
Circles forming, reforming
Summer Alchemy.
I Do Enjoy The Rain, and Your Writing Makes Me Look Forward To The Next Down Pour, Nice, I Mean Real Nice.
Mary Ekpenyong
July 18
Nectar to nectar
The big butterfly flutters
How sweet the freedom
Mary Ekpenyong
July 18
Yellow autumn leaves
Trees’ naked beauty unveils
Cold crown of winter
Mary Ekpenyong
July 18
The wet green grass swirls
To a sunny whistling breeze
Life after the storm
Yes I Did Enjoy * You Drew a Picture In My Mind Of a Levier Kind. All the Best Dear Sister Ekpenyong.
Raindrops fall on tears,
Dilute, like streams in the sea,
Lost in pain too deep.
Forget-me-not blue
Springing from frostbitten earth
Is summer’s bright cue
Hi Nina S. * You Truly Hit a Lovely Mix Of Nature and Emotion, What a Lovely Combination.
Raindrops mix in tears,
Dilute, like streams in the sea
Lost in pain too deep.
Forget-me-not blue
Springing from frostbitten earth
Is Summer’s bright cue.
She’s At It Again With Another Win, Write On My Friend.
snow-capped mountainside
winter’s glow surrounding us
setting sun’s light, red
———————————————
the perfume of stars
sweet as shards of nebulas;
violent explosion
———————————————
young children playing
outside, grassy lawn and breeze
i wish i were one
Hi Dear Sister Kim, You Certainly Went Off World and Around The World With This Fine Work, Nice!
When tumbling down
Comes here all sorts from the town
We can live for now
Let sciences ring
Truth and saving it shall bring
But now nevermore
Burning and prancing
The world around is falling
I am here dancing
Ethan Showing Smooth Moves At The Word Dance, Nice!
Captain at the helm
sailing beyond space and time
in my ship of books
Brittle limbs prostrate,
Beg mercy from cruel lord sun.
Damp vengeance sleeps below
Make again my love
Imitate her very atoms
Only an image
A Mind Dancing Cruise, Brother Moore Has The Tools, Nice!
Thanks Brer’ Thomas!
Cat
Grace from the heavens
furry fine lines by God’s design
purring so softly
No Cat Nap Here, Just Sheer Purr-fection.
snow
sheen so very clean
each flake never a mistake
this unique shite streak
What a Beautiful Snow Show Dear Sister Checkley, Your Words Flow Light as Snow.
Mourning dove crying
to a soundless frozen lake-
The long wait for spring
Creek mud-bank with clams
flecking Styrofoam pellets-
Shucking man-made pearls
Yellow daffodils
poke through heavy snow blanket-
A fool’s early spring
What a Trip, Through The Frozen, Through The Snow To a Place Where Clams Grow, Nice!
Thank you Thomas!
The glimmering dew
shivers gently on petals
like feathered kisses
The cold touch of snow
Causes shivers upon skin
In the lonely dark
On the precipice
Colored leaves dance in the wind
The golden Fall comes
Inspiration
Dog day drips, humid.
Winter night sits and shivers.
Life’s proper fever.
His Soul
His fingerprints mark
the glass, oil from his stories
shining in the light.
Revelation
I’m searching for shells
At the turning of the tide,
Ocean’s testament.
I can’t find my keys
Oh well, guess I’ll walk to store
Just kidding, found em
Small black dog looks up –
Full eyes glow and beg at me
The door opens, synergy
July. World ablaze.
Once in Earth revere, coolness.
Warring on ourselves.
HAIKU AUSTIN
you don’t live longer
raised on the city concrete;
it just seems that way.
HAIKU MARFA
no catchin’ up to
yesterday; we burn daylight
where buses don’t run.
HAIKU SAN ANTONIO
tamales stolen
with a two-dollar pistol—
only hell ma’ raised.
Hi, Abigael Leigh,
“Haiku San Antonio” has a wonderful emotional humor with a pivot that speaks to the wittiness, unpredictability, and keen perception that sets American haiku apart from Japanese tradition in this form. I enjoyed it immensely and still chuckle whenever I think of it.
Thanks for making my day.
leaves in the fall wind –
when in place of the your arms
you want to grow wings
deforestation
wait, pussy willow
you would shave your soft catkins?
surely not for him
coming home to you
is laying in a patch of
sunlight that can’t fade
Little finch flitting
Across the sun-dried meadow
A golden angel
Willow branches sway
Gently on a balmy breeze
A small child’s wonder
Dreams of Grecian nights
In summertime smell of fresh
Rosemary and thyme
Blackbirds in the snow
ink for an unwritten song
but soon they will fly
Fireflies and snowflakes
studies in fleeting beauty
disappear when touched
Like bright autumn leaves
those we have loved fall away
as winter calls them
in an oak tree’s shade
the quietness of cattle
each twitching their tail
Halloween party
the devil’s fork in his hand
bigger than he is
on a chilly night
a wind-blown can clattering
down an empty street
My apologies…my wife counted 6 syllables on my third…here is the rewrite:
Brittle limbs prostrate,
Beg mercy from cruel lord Sol.
Damp plot sleeps below
I Responded To This Haiku, I Didn’t Catch The Miscount, Your Wife Is Certainly On the Ball. Nice Rewrite.
Haiku: Silents
Wisdom speaks in briefs
few words mind reflects deep
silence also speaks
walking goldmines friends
the true friend is hard to find
like digging goldmines
Sounds Like You Struck Gold, Nice!
Do you think so? Thank you
rains green marsh meadow
dance with me serenity
mountain river rest
Body, heart, and mind
Splintered shards too hard to find
Leaving me behind
Sloughed snakeskin drapes as
we mourn the day’s end. Blanket,
or veil, for red clay?
1.
cool winds shake reeds loose
darkness floods over still water
a chorus of frogs
2.
red-leafed mango trees
new birthings swell pale yellow
consummating love
3.
calamansi fruit
sun-yellowed and ripening
closer than we were
Science Fiction
A form of genre,
What do you like most in it?
Keep an open mind.
Knowledge
Very powerful,
One can read and learn a lot,
Have an open mind
Death
A reality,
It reaches us all, too,
This is how it is.
I Enjoyed Reading Your Haiku, I Thought “DEATH ” Fell Short. I Could Be Wrong, Take Care.
Fall’s Fashion Show’s here!
Toasted browns, yellows, and reds
Brand new repeat looks.
Let’s meet, you and I
Under winter cherry trees
Love won’t wait till spring.
Waterfall rushing
like pink gowns, twirling and swirling
the cherry blossom dances.
Bird who never flew
flapped his wings, stayed on the ground
hangs his head in shame.
Clock ticks life away
never, not going to die
until the clock stops.
Hey there chickadee!
How sweetly your song welcomes
fair weather migrants
Long after the sun
has set behind the mountains
its light yet lingers
Vernal blood pulses
the snowmelt from alpine heights
My body, a river
Queen Anne’s lace is quick
sudden crowd on our corner
uninvited offspring
bare feet picking through
damp stones left at a low tide
each reveal deep space
dog’s paw in mid-air
nose to a fresh sudden breeze–
pet rabbit escaped
Oaks self-amputate,
drifting their sun-toned decay:
alms for future sprouts.
California fires
feast, then scatter their takings.
Stone-fruits thrive in ash.
shaking her body
a pencil rewinds stuck songs
on old cassettes
full moon in the sky
found on the bed of the sea
mystical moonglade
scintillating stars…
darkness doesn’t matter to them
they well know their worth
wintry white petals
drift into frozen sunset
napping on lone bench
a fallen oak leaf
floating down mountain river
journey to the sea
Martin, “These buds opening” and “Curious concert” were submitted in the 2021 competition, and “Curious concert” earned a place among runners-up. It is so good I used it among examples for “What Makes A Good Haiku?” The 2022 competition asks for new haiku, written during the past year. And each competitor may submit only three entries. Please reply here to withdraw the older haiku which are not eligible. And if you wish, add another to the two eligible ones above.
Dear Margaret,
Thanks for letting me know. I didn’t realize that “Curious Concert” was among the runner-up in last year’s contest. (I’ll submit 2 new ones.)
That’s great news. In fact, I’m going to read your article about “What Makes a Good Haiku.” I can’t wait to read it!
I’ll try to delete those two haiku you mentioned. I’m not sure how to do it. But if you know how, please feel free to do so.
All the best,
Martin
Cicadas singing
From the boughs of tall green pines –
Sun casts long shadows
(entry #2)
Heron stands, wings spread
Waiting for fish to swim close.
Turtles bask on log
(entry #3)
Down from the gray sky
Flutter flakes of fresh white snow.
Air smells of woodsmoke
Of course! I will alert the moderator to delete your previous entries, and I look forward to the new ones.
Scouring summer woods
for the chanterelle mushroom;
a faun watches me.
June wind breathes sea grass.
June wind breathes the ocean waves.
My kite inhales, soars.
Our herb garden’s song:
summertime thyme, mint, and
basil in concert.
Embers damp with dew.
Sun looms on the horizon;
The last campfire, gone.
autumn breeze flipping
through pages to the bookmark
of dried rose petals
Your last day of work
The sky beaming baby blue
Air tangy with earth
I watched a leaf fall
to the ground without a sound . . .
heard its silent song
Tonight planet Mars
is caught in the moon’s halo
Red Warrior at peace
In the deep of sky
a great white cloud, a shadow
My mother looks down
suddenly sunshine
maxes daylight hours coaxing
our crops to ripen.
sweet smell of grass: a
field with horses galloping
summer heat lingers.
shiver crunching leaves
walk briskly bundled up to
Thanksgiving Dinner.
Take a sip of tea
Allow nature bless your tongue
As you watch the rain
Rich bloom of colours
The earthy scent of wet soil
–Remnants of the rain.
Let the winds sit still
And the clouds hold back their tears
‘Til my love comes home.
Storm-bruised summer sky
black-winged, velvet butterfly
time and rain pass by
Singing mockingbird—
this heatwave can’t compete with
your sweet obsession.
As a city screams
its glare, above these barrens
gleams the Milky Way.
Spring’s tomfoolery
can’t fool us; hocus-pocus
and — look! — a crocus!
Fire
We watch stars find their
feet from the Pyrenees peaks
And still there is heat
Flood
Fighting monsoon tears
Rivers run away from here
Carrying feeling
Time
Hands without motion
Locked within ocean frost lost
Just for a moment
grey skies hold gull flights
Haverigg birds sing for us
our lives by the sea
giggles on the breeze
crashing ripples trickle home
sandscape memories
bright reflected sun
hot feet hop as dry beaks drop
whoosh! wings in flight
seabed of seaweed
begins to swim toward daybreak
Cassiopeia
a hull-bound oyster
peeks at me with sea-flecked eyes
joining my journey
midsummer’s night
trying not to tread on
milky reflection
night – I look out
motionless in the moonlight
a cat on the street
©Maurizio Brancaleoni
The street light strobes as
if my lonely walk is a
night at the disco
All winter the buds
prepare to briefly dazzle
before decaying
My worldview is an
onrushing red waterfall when
a rock strikes my head
Moonlight is a balm.
Aromas perfume the air.
After harvesting.
Unbent, I follow
Fading foot-trace in water,
Tears return me home.
Snoring on pillows,
Perfume of sugared wet dog,
Brown eyes bring me home.
A hundred years you
Promised, a flight into stars,
Now ash, all song, gone.
Spring´s new lemon moon,
curved slice of fruit, heaven-made:
birth is bitter sweet.
Scarecrows flank the fields,
worms work the soil night and day:
turkeys smell a rat.
Monsoons flood the fields.
moonlight breast-feeds the foot-hills:
neap tides are turning
Please change in haiku 2 ,line 1, fank to flank! Thank you!
A Leaf strewn by the
wind settles into place and
is then tossed again
My three haikus-
Summer love story
Grass and lady beetle
Swing in the dawn wind
I watch sunflower fields
From the bus going to town
The winking noon sun
Tree shadows stretch far
June dusk on the quiet dirt road
Swans drift back to home
cicadas silent–
a red-spotted butterfly
upon white lupin
the path to the park
lined invitingly with trees–
dark clouds rolling in
entering the park
a few days after the storm–
smell the drying leaves!
Thunder beats the sky
Rain steps across the surface . . .
Hushed now the concert
Forests burn at night
Bright embers float heavenward
Stars light up the sky
Turtle, a green leaf,
blown slowly over the ground
by a lazy breeze
The mockingbird sings
Even more it loves to fight
The crow flies away
whisper “I love you”
quiet so winter can’t hear
or change your sweet mind
I’ve stumbled over your website in trawling the internet at my local library (I’m not on line at home). I’ve x3 haiku to present for inclusion in your Haiku competition which closes mid next month (August 2022).
I trust I’m fllowing the proper entry protocols. The three pieces are as folows:
Fall’s artillery
Acorns spatter on my roof
Rat! Tat! Winter comes
Spent leaf lies dormant
On the breast of another
Winter pieta
Breakdance bravado
Side-walk Cafe Sparrows flit
Trading manoeuvres
Cheers John S.
Thanks for your contributions, John! Please check back after the contest closes, to see the announcement of the winner and runners-up. I don’t know the exact date, but after some days for judging, it will appear in the Society of Classical Poets POETRY column, under the same picture that announced the competition, of a Japanese man playing a flute.
Reply to Margaret Coates Reply: ‘Thanks for your helpful clarification Margaret. Reviewing my submissions I spotted that ‘typo’
in the middle line of my third haiku – the word ‘sparrows’ should of course not begin with that capitalized ‘S’
Thanks again, John S.
Hidden under the barn
protected by the weather
a nest of swallow
I can barely see
through the verry flowered skirt
the flower of her body
the first butterfly
in the barely halfclosed flower-
messenger of spring
The rabbit runs scared
Hungry wolves snap at its feet
The life of taxpayers
I grab the old book
Hints of must and vanilla
A tear for Grandma
Old hands guide the young
Life and song cling to paper
Memories are formed
A pair of green flames
The flight of a sly black cat
-basking in shadows.
A young flower buds
A white man sheaths his bald head-
Beneath the sun’s smirk.
Love isolation?
Staring into the abyss
And finding freedom
sidewalk oozes heat
green bushes moan locust songs
I am oozing sweat
with winter waning
Canada geese honk-shoo-honk
Mr. Crow cackles
mustache is sweaty
as the lake rumbles thunder
sky downpours sweetly
my reflection in
the top of the toilet bowl
refused the Autumn
Night falls later now
Summer on the horizon
of my younger days
Over June’s west wind,
Autumns red sky approaches
unbeknownst to me
IN RETROSPECT
of most importance
only realized once lost!
even dust settles
FILMED BEFORE A LIVE STUDIO AUDIENCE
claustrophobic gaze
amplified when the curtain
reveals my stage fright
I’m sorry for this mistaken entry – Could this one please be deleted/disregarded, as I misunderstood the rules when posted and I realize it doesn’t fit? May I please have this one considered in its place? :
BIRTH
fresh february
to be a bud newly bloomed!
sweet tooth vanity
Thanks for your three entries and your note, Gwendolyn. “Filmed” will not be counted, but it will be left here. Deleting it might also delete “Birth” as part of the same comment thread.
CAREGIVER
how miraculous
tiny skull fits in my palm…
gulliver or god?
Welcome Bell
Remaining hopeful
The old dusty welcome bell
Waits prepared with cheer.
Born Again Alone
With the oak hollow
A new womb, the fledgling owl
Learns to hunt alone.
Shudder!
My new taste for prunes
Stir memories of Poppa
In Summer’s loincloths.
Fair casing of frost
Preserves stout boughs while indoors
Flames consume their kin
Legs taut, the lone ant
Drags his load ‘neath blazing sky
No one comes to help
Some mourn the descent
But wisdom sees leaves return
To their place of birth
Waves of twittering
Ancient spells and rituals
loud praises and adieus.
a shift in the air
scent of dying wildflowers
August cruelest month
new growth maples, pines
farmer’s forgotten stone wall
a forest reclaimed
ombre sky, cool air
twilight comes to the mountain
lone hawk circles, keens
Birds on this branch, that
branch, those connect. Sing loudly –
not loud enough yet
Sea-buckthorn berries
Leaves falling, roots fixing sand
How much can you hold?
Millipedes, woodlice,
a mycorrhizal network
Light in a dark place
June trees full of life
Cicada shells left behind
Their songs haunt the night
Daylight breaks the sky
and reaches for my window
with stories to tell
Forest reflections
hypnotize in waves below
Beckoning me home
1.
a cicada’s husk
grandfather in his best suit
hands folded, eyes closed
2.
mid-autumn river
a lone boat ferrying the
moonlight back to port
3.
graduation day
the twisting river reaches
the vast open sea
Beautiful.
Hi, Ngo, as you may already know, conceptualization is one of traditional Haiku’s most important components for delivering its meaning. Pieces 1 and 2 not only delivered on conceptual imagery but added the difficult contrast of stillness and anticipation of rebirth in poem 1 and conceptual motion which many find difficult to master in poem 2. You did both quite well. I was extremely impressed and enjoyed both pieces. Thank you.
Cerulean sky
above yellow sunflowers.
The smell of burning.
Poor Ukraine…
Hedgerows pulse with life
The worm’s wriggle is futile
Young mouths open wide
Snow-muted landscape
Creatures slumber in silence
Waiting for Spring’s call
Bales festoon the fields
The farmer labors and waits
For the sun’s magic
local train station—
quenching summer’s thirsty throats
a sudden downpour
a lump of cold clay …
the shape of a calm Buddha
in meditation
cold sniper’s bullet …
the thud in the chest pocket
where her photo is
In waning winter
a dried thistle bloom appears
on my snowy path
Open your mouth wide
red-winged blackbird and yodel
Spring’s joyous return!
Cascading down rocks
a woodland stream finds its way
giggling as it goes
Summer moon streams in
Silver light across the bed
There, the cat once lay
In dark, cool water
white swan glides, leaves in its wake
summer moon fragments
Poised swan, moving feet
Poised summer moon, moving Earth
Illusion and grace
The winter sun sets…
Pure crystalline icicles
prism twilight’s death
Crimson maple leaves
Floating in the temple pond
Blush at cold, bare trees
Bursts of spring lightning
Illumine plum-tree spirits.
Blossoms rend the wind
What is quietude?
Do you will heart not to break ~
Squeeze tight and shatters?
Rocking chairs lull me ~
But I cry on them sometimes
When the sun’s hues dull
In thick summer air
Swarmed ravenous mosquitos
Undeterred by rain
Birds splash in the lake
Catching fish that try to flee
The snap of a beak
Orange wings flutter
Colors fleeting like a song
Monarch butterfly
Rosemary was a
Sage-Femme, yet, when she had Thyme,
used Dill though, s’Parsley !
Image result of black cat
Hieroglyphic Haiku
Four Paw Faux Pas
(with translation)
∞ § ¶ • ªº
–≠ ß ∂ ƒ˙ ∆˚¬ Ω
√ ∫ ˜µ ≤≥ œ
Lame cat walks across
QWERTY keyboard creating
Hieroglyphic Haik-
∞ § ¶ • ªº
–≠ ß ∂ ƒ˙ ∆˚¬ Ω
√ ∫ ˜µ ≤≥ œ
Lame cat walks across
QWERTY keyboard creating
Hieroglyphic Haik-
cyclone
the wind carts the refugee boy’s teddy bear
and back
windy Sabbath…
a praying mantis slips
from the crucifix
Mount Emei
an orphan-bird navigates its fate
in Buddha’s palm
Dear admin,
Kindly find my new submission orderly arranged. I noticed the first submission I mistakenly pressed the enter key which made “and back” come down eventually distorting the form. Thank you.
1.
cyclone
the wind carts the refugee boy’s
teddy bear and back
2.
windy Sabbath…
a praying mantis slips
from the crucifix
3.
Mount Emei
an orphan-bird navigates its fate
in Buddha’s palm
Thank you, Gabriel, for making the correction and clearly displaying your poems.
children play hopscotch
amidst a bright horizon
a stone’s throw away
on this Autumn eve
geese fly into the sunset
and there is order
Wet cement sky leaks
the hills melt into red sludge
banana plants mould
Savanna noon sun
licks the grasslands beige with thirst
lone elephant migrates
The charcoal milk goat
purple mouthed lies on a mat
of African pears
1.
A gush of chill wind
Golden hour with no gold light
Plain greyness in sight
2.
The absence of sun
Evening adds pinch blue to greys
Cooling down stillness
3.
Greens turn to light brown,
Light rolls down the floor tiles,
The smell of winter.
Lips turn deep blue hue
Gentle white snow, flakes fall
Cold wind ousts bird calls
brown rug, crunching steps
winding roots, they dare to trip
back down, it’s green up
Soft, pink, delicate
moisture leaves flower, finds tongue
savoring each drip
Interrupt the form:
What stars? What rain? What meadow?
Describe the abyss
Oak looms under sun
Over grove of flowers
Dapple gilds lily
Darron, this poem doesn’t seem to describe the abyss, as Phoebe asked. But if this is a reply to her, please confirm that it’s not a further contest entry. I find your three entries above at July 19, with a correction on July 21. Thanks.
Margaret, yes this was a reply. While not a direct answer, the intention was to show the emptiness of a dark gesture on the openly enlightened, so illustrating a vast void.
Submitted for the haiku contest.
fly velocity
is two wing beats faster than
my swinging swatter
leaves droop and curl
fainting breezes swirl hot air
shaded breaths shallow
little river low
soundlessly meandering
living tucked away
282 Buena Vista Rd.
Fairfield, CT 06825
[email protected]
Ed Ahern resumed writing after forty odd years in foreign intelligence and international sales. He’s had four hundred stories and poems published so far, and six books. Ed works the other side of writing at Bewildering Stories, where he sits on the review board and manages a posse of nine review editors. He’s also lead editor at The Scribes Micro Fiction magazine.
https://www.twitter.com/bottomstripper
https://www.facebook.com/EdAhern73/?ref=bookmarks
https://www.instagram.com/edwardahern1860/
fan of eyes shivers
hypnotic blue suitor struts
dull peahen’s bored gaze
Warm honey once more
nurturing light feeds the skin
yet the sun must set
–
Fruitful and fertile
bloom fights the icy ennui
promising new birth
–
The sun bids farewell
bloodcurdling cicada croon
singing summers end
Butterfly
Each spring when time wings
silently by, my butterfly,
will you cocoon me?
Ice
The molecules of water
join hands each winter–so cold…
they can’t even move.
In August
Like a rock holds the
heat of the sun through the night
I hold your memory
#1 Spring-
I place bets in rain
Only watching the windows
For raindrop races
#2 Summer-
You always yell “cows”
Sleeping spots on the green field
Our road trip comfort.
#3 Fall-
I pity the snow
That never lands in Autumn
Nor sees the leaves change.
sultry summer hum
white hives buzz in the orchard
winter’s honeyed toast
the ghost crab scuttle
dance of dark on warm wet sand
reel with tide and foam
Winter grips us still
Icicle soul siesta
Drip me back to life
how full is the moon
on this blissful August night
shining down on me
now here comes the sun
welcoming in the daylight
bringing me to life
the wind in my hair
as I dance with the flowers
in the lush meadow
the sunless heavens mourn
like hopscotch players that cry
rain on summer’s end
Hi, Jan,
If I may, I liked this poem and use of simile, but if it’s okay, you would nail this haiku form if you drop the article (the) in the first line, and perhaps add balance to the simile by choosing a two-syllable word that speaks to your intent in place of “that.” For example, try ‘lament’ and replace “rain on summer’s end” with “rain at summer’s end.” Hope to see more from you.
walking with a crutch
my urban foot feels the sand
of this quiet beach
Title: Mr.Softee
Watch the sprinkles dance
Twirl around the ice cream swirl
My block was chosen
Title: NYC Summer
Walk outside, all eyes
Sun-kissed thighs under blue skies
Door knockers glisten
Title: Bodega Blues
Where there are corners
Bodegas are always found
Only when you “Yerrr”
Triplets
Over grassy dunes
Sea Oats lash at sun-burned legs
Sand spurs prick my heel
Surfers slice through waves
Pelicans swerve through troughs
A gull steals my chips
A speck of ship bobs
On sea and sky horizon
I am a sand grain
Peter, someone who appears to be your lower-case avatar posted a beach haiku on July 4. Only three contest entries per poet are allowed. Please let me know which three you prefer, or disclaim identity with peter venable. Thanks!
Plodding uncut lawn.
Where to, so purposefully,
I ask? Turtle knows!
Wistful Goldenrod,
trembles in the dusting snow.
Calling back summer.
Decomposing leaves
rest on symbiotic soil
Survive forever!
blue bowl sky scrubbed clean
clouds wrung out and pinned to air
all hung out to dry
*These are taken from Fartfist’s fourth volume of literary works
“Seventeen Haiku For Humanity”* (Which were written in 2021)
—
Ignorance is one
The bowl, before the water
How much can it hold
~ eight
Opportunity
This is two, like sun and moon
It is there always
~ nine
Willingness to act
Is three; like the spring flower
Interested in living
~ ten
Entry #1 Devil’s Breath
Blist’ry wind’s revenge,
ashen snow falls heaviest
in nuclear winter.
Entry #2 Famine to Feast
Hot rain pours over
tainted fields long abandoned.
Resurrections spark.
Entry #3 Blood Orchid
One crimson drop spilt
feeding the seed sown below.
From death, petals bloom.
Linda Bell entry
Flute longs for its branch
Violin longs for its tree
Soul sings to the sea
Rain on glass tapping
Pooling, catching green or red
Is now wiped away
Bald squirrel prostrates
And gnaws a ripe potato
Must be a chipmonk
Leaves powdered with frost
Icing for caterpillars
Glint in autumn dusk
Squirrels
A lone squirrel works.
Two or three chase each other,
Playing around trees.
Nature Reveres Itself
Winds blow and trees bow –
Thanking clouds for bringing rain
That nourish sacred trees.
wistful white blossoms,
how gold you look in the sun!
night falls with you here.
daisies strung in chains,
tangled in the robin’s crest.
singing, winging, gone.
the last fallen rose
wilts sweetly, lightly, slowly,
blushing so faintly.
To join nature, this noon.
To be a bird on Spring’s tree,
Singing songs, flying free. Away.
To the colourful tweeting birds_
I woke, from my fairytale dream, beholding,
A sunny sky, summer’s day.
Dancing fish, out of water.
Wriggling and twisting, left and right. Yearning.
Splash! It feels water again.
Thank you for telling me about this contest . You go girl!
Water beads trickle
down my neck and down my glass
of lemonade and jazz
レモン果汁
首とグラスに
垂れてゆく
Blanketing asphalt
Frozen layers
of snow, slush, salt
アスファルト
凍てつく層の
雪と塩
Petals kiss my nose
Mountains wear pink blush and smile
Blossom rise and fall
花にキス
山も笑顔に
ピンクのチーク
Camels are the desert’s glory.
The oasis lacks by the sand dunes.
What bird dare to fly?
A rock beyond the river,
Living centuries, with air of grand stillness.
What would be it’s company?
Deary winds and empty trees,
Greet my waking, along dewy colourful leaves,-
Fallen leaves and dry grass.
Wait for the last leaf
And sun, to drop, shine. In harmony-
Under trees. Paint this autumn.
Night and rain, one and
Whispering, “let us share the open secret.
Roar what the heart says”.
Yesterday, the pea was seed.
Today, it is out, dancing to winds.
Come Morn, it will dew.
Lady fall pursues
Family views the river
Exhales on my skin
Long warm fulfilling
Change of seasons conflict rift
Damaged what if’s black
so far yet so near
winter stars soon become friends
to those who have none
suburban midnight
whirring air-conditioners
keep the crickets up
high-rise balcony
the perfect panorama
of summertime smog
Wanting to go on
Nature’s last summer day, yet
Nature calls, head home
Staring at the sun
Setting over the forest
Goodbye to summer
Leaves throw themselves down
Now that summer is over
Fearing what comes next
the time of writing
so helpful to the author
a garnish of sage
Sense-soaked to the bone
On rich banana plant leaves
Worms cryˎ journey on
Sun on fingertips
Beams of life run through our grasp
No one owns the light
Teased by winter’s breath
Sakuras bat their lashes
And wind-flowers fall
Hi Donna Lynne Griggs, my name is Maria, Mary is also nice. Despite being beautiful, your poem bears a strong resemblance to one composed by another exceptionally talented and eloquent young poet named Jijo who has also composed a haiku for this contest. The verbiage she uses is extremely unique and specific to her, so seeing you post something similar is extremely suspicious. Look her up and see if there are any similarities and act accordingly. My best wishes to you.
Maria, one haiku submitted by Jyi Jyo on August 1 speaks of banana plants, but otherwise I see no similarity between her poems and those of Donna Lynne Griggs. The Griggs haiku mentioning banana plant leaves uses an ancient Japanese poetic convention in speaking of the worms’ cry, which cannot possibly be unique to any modern poet.
Running out of thyme
It is mint to be divine
A dill-icious dish
Sweet fruits of season
Summer better than others
Berry good to me
Wave to the beaches
Suns and daughters together
Special sand to hold
If to die’s to tire
of your blue, dewy lupine
I am immortal.
Over the pavement
dragging itself through aether
singing butterfly.
High up in the sky
O buzzard, your shadow falls
on some patch of earth.
Emerald fronds sway;
dewdrop, teary, wrenched away
from lover of jade.
The young bud blushes
as summer cicadas trill.
Red sprouts, kiss of bill.
Crystal flakes, silver;
Hobnailed foot-marks deep in pairs;
Chiming church carols.
dandelion pox
garlic plugs the oral route
unpronounceable
sun-locked and tinctured
April like a dumb disease
sneezes between dates
footsteps populate
multiplying involvement
there and there and there
Light clears the path, then.
Now, beauty is clearly seen.
Eternity reigns.
When one sows, one reaps
Receiving consequences
Actions produce fruits
With toil comes sweet gain
Feet and hands labor to earn
Glad hearts follow suit
High in the Sky
Monarch Butter flys galore
Only a few flutter by
wet dog strains to chase
pigeons from puddles, who rise
like the scent of rain
The streetlight blinks off.
Dawn pearls the sky discreetly
Erases the stars
“YOU ARE WHAT YOU EAT!”
that’s what all people say
Then I guess I’m “NUTS!”
“YOU ARE WHAT YOU EAT!”
that’s what all the people say
Then I guess I’m “NUTS!”
Still, hot countryside;
restless insects buzzing, cut
by a lone cyclist.
Longing for winter,
lasting strife draining the land,
until a storm breaks.
A secret growing,
a promise all summer long.
And then, you are born.
a church bell pealing
potatoes for midday lunch
sunday roast today
Bruised, swollen, cut
The sting of eating crisps
More Bonjela please
1
Dead leaves fall and dance…
A little bit of cold rain,
a desperate wish.
2
Young nuns pray sadly,
The wisteria weeps gold…
Tears, pain and cold.
3
A bonfire crackles,
little faces smile and glow…
A picture of warmth.
From the tree of life
Howling winds screaming covid
tore another leaf
Torrential rain seen:
weeping clouds are mourning death
amid pandemic
winter cemetery –
the last moments of a mouse
are etched in the snow
harvest moon rises
through the tree’s tangled branches –
a tawny owl calls
the old enemies
shake hands for the cameras –
cherry blossom blooms
Plastic Haiku
On the beach, plastic
catches the light, looking like
ocean left behind.
I sit in the tree
gold leaves falling around me
wealth abounds for me
autumn glows within
sunlight through the deep shadows
a sprinkle of gold
sun setting early
gold sinking into the dark
stark limbs against sky
Trees blow their pollen
Like clumps of cotton drifting
Snow in hot July
A desert monsoon
Rain lashes across the sky
And floods the parched ground
The lawnmower growls
Destroying animal homes
The snail speeds away
Saturday night I
washing everything in sight
retire lonely.
Waiting to dilate
in the eye-doctor’s office
Argus to Oedipus
Feasted it withers
fasted it fattens: for love
forfeit is surfeit
disdaining either
fight or flight, finch sits a fist
on the barbed wire fence
autumn leaves shimmer–
the world is awash in a
concerto of colors
bright headlights blink by–
fireflies soon swallowed up by
omnivorous night
A cerulean sky
Pricked by a gold flecked forest
Where the sun hides lies
Covid Crises
We demand answers!
Oxygen concentrators
Still stuck with Customs.
Planes land with supplies.
Despite the scramble, no one
Gets aid they must have.
Pain, tears and anger,
Loss that belongs to us all.
How much can be borne?
The butterflies dance
Amongst the purple flowers
Bees sing them a song
The heart’s jar, empty
Experience fills it up
To the brim and more
The morning dew drop
Nature’s magnifying glass
Wonders to behold
first sign of winter
a sudden sprinkle of snow
settles in her hair
a ghost moth cocoon
filled with the scent of jasmine
and all our sorrows
solo sentinel
the blue heron reflecting
at the water’s edge
fog wisps wreathe dawn’s peaks
indolent sun sleeps past noon
Pasadena spring
***
iris on the brink
of bloom sometimes hesitates
spring is full of caprice
this winter solstice —
the only embers we see
on night’s cigarette
crickets retiring—
her call for help too
becomes dead silence
suitcase of summer;
a letter to solitude
in the blooming trees.
a key phrase, thank you
a heart lifted from the break
sudden turnaround
packing box, moving …
the chirp of a lone cricket
on my window sill
~
the fading fragrance
of freshly laundered curtains
heaviness of heat
~
an old memory
yellow leaves falling slowly
upon the river
Beckon for the ink
Fools dance under the dead stars
The sun is raptured
Parade birds drift south
Meaningless meaningless time
Awake me in spring
Falter to the soil
The trees could die in great flame
Yet lives beneath nail
A girl of seasons
Watch her burn and bloom and freeze
Slowly melt away
First breeze of autumn,
welcomed by parched plants and land.
Refreshing their hope.
See the glaciers shrink?
Alarming in time-lapse films!
Wading through puddles.
Ceaseless rolls of waves
Gull squawks heard above the crash
Menacing and free
With spring, death comes too.
Visiting next door, and then,
I judge the silence.
How dare the mums to
Bloom when all else dies in fall?
The audacity.
Lonely house, silent
Except for soft cat feet and
Vibrating crickets.
nearing summer’s end
the earth marches on, wrapped in
winter’s cold embrace
pressing thoughts clamor,
the roar of the waterfall
drowns all worries
a choir of crickets sings,
performing for the night
the same lilting tune
A dark-eyed brown hued
rabbit sits calmly in our
back yard, eating grass
A doe emerges from
the tree line; we watch her from
a silent window
See-through dress of gauze
Pond water teases my toes
Foreplay of moonlight.
_____________________________________
Turn your eyes to me
I too am lonely, you see
on the old park bench
Parched dirt slurps soundly,
Supple plants bend in the breeze.
Uproar; cry of relief.
Loungers rush inside.
Sulfuric scent, stellar cracks.
Grey beads, branches bouncing.
Big, bawling heavens,
Trembling figures…in…out…
It’s the farmer’s joy.
Raindrops fall with the
mathematical precision
of abacus beads.
I am a geisha:
you, my lover, gone to war.
Crimson blossoms fall.
A peony floats
upon the still, blue water.
Or is it the moon?
The winds are blowing,
A lot more than they used to.
I used to have you.
Perfect, graceful, smooth
Dance is everything you aren’t.
But it’s all you have.
As a raindrop falls,
A thirsty plant awaits it,
Raindrops are not fools,
An owl hoots at night,
Not in anger but laughter,
Night time is a hoot,
Wisps of smoke at dawn,
First morning light reignites,
The fire burns again,
City heat mirage
Cooper’s hawk reflects in pane
Distorted nature
Monsoon Earth is chopped
Partially lit by the sun
Half under shade clouds
Spring embellishments
Wild eggs decorate cup nests
Flowers adorn fields
Autumn falling down,
trees crying leaves of orange,
darkness kills the sun.
The biting cold slap
stings from your winter demise.
Alone with the ice.
cedars stand and smile,
welcome the autumn winds while
green fields bid farewell.
evening burns slowly
air thick, sticky with remnants
of summer’s caress.
this winter solstice —
the birthing of fierce embers
on night’s cigarette
crickets retiring—
the silence of dawn lingers
her call for help too
summer holiday;
in the blooming flowers
first signs of beauty.
Please this is an edited version of my previous submission. Do disregard the previous comment and consider this. Thanks.
this winter solstice —
the birthing of fierce embers
on night’s cigarette
crickets retiring—
the silence of dawn lingers
her call for help too
summer holiday;
in the blooming of flowers
first signs of beauty.
Samuel, I take this last set of three haiku as your entries. Thank you.
Hummingbird feeder
Patiently waiting a guest
Despite all the ants
A deer crossed the road
Antlers covered in velvet
Wiffle ball delayed
Among the boulders
Hide n’ go seek in the woods
Everybody peeks
snowy village path
the smell of anko leads me
to a stranger’s door
blue morning-glories
mirroring a cloudless sky
blue morning-glories
Gold coin in the sky
throwing into the fountain
summer’s sparkling lights
A laughing child runs
under the jet watering
a little rainbow
The frog comes out
the bat returns to cave
spring’s rain sings a song
Dear Margaret Coats, can you take this last set of three haiku as my entries ? Thank you.
Gold coin in the sky
throwing into the fountain
summer’s sparkling wish
A laughing child runs
under the jet watering
a little rainbow
The frog comes out
the bat returns to cave
spring’s rain sings a song
The last three are counted as your entries. Thanks for participating in the competition.
A fresh sprout grows as
Mourners lay flowers on graves
Tears will water both
The city was less
dewy in the mornings now
robins search for worms
a broken kingdom
a task is left from our king
for the Hawaiians
hard to hold your hand –
does the vulture kiss the dove?
the sun sets on us.
My Haiku for contest due by Aug. 15, 2022
Spring Fukushima
Shake Rattle and Roll KABOOM
Fall Fukushima
a shift in the wind~
suddenly I’m surrounded
by unseen roses
another autumn:
I feel old enough to sink
into my shadow
a lovely shower
of leaves . . . as if a woman
had let down her hair. . .
a flying lapis
mellifluous scenery
blue jay on a branch
ocean waves on rocks
thunderous cacophony
no one listening
autumn hues on trees
rainbow colors on their boughs
dead in winter gust
The first bonito
of the season hits fresh high
The return of spring
“The first bonito of the season” is a seasonal reference in spring. The Japanese believes that eating the first bonito is a secret to a good health and long life since Edo era. The high price in the auction of the first bonito is always a newsworthy event in spring in Japan.
Japanese version:
初競りの声高らかに初鰹
An antiwar song
gradually dies away
on the Bastille day
“the Bastille day” (巴里祭) is a seasonal reference in summer.
For the people suppressed by the war and tyranny.
Japanese version:
巴里祭の喧噪に消ゆる反戦歌
Here are my three haiku submissions
finding its way out
of the slum’s narrow bylanes
song of a migrant
still a nobody
a lump of clay starts to spin
on the potter’s wheel
double amputee
the red origami crane
crafted by her hands
In origami the color Red symbolises, passion and good furtune
My three haiku.
the chariot wheel
in touching the earth moves on …
my breath in the now
galloping autumn
I’m alive for a period
of one breath alone
parijat blossom
father gathers them each day
to offer his God
friends meet
one after another
we stretch our legs
night sky
I open the window to see
the known silence
old rock
the fine lines
on her abdomen
I withdraw all the above three haiku. As i realized it is a 575 contest.
I am submitting my
Three 575 haiku
me sitting alone….
with the ruffling wind enters
a rustle of dry leaves
all branches chopped down
now heard from a long distance
the cuckoos sweet songs
a quiet evening
restlessly moving around
the crow on tree top
Thank you! These will be considered instead of the shorter ones.
My three Haikus:
Once I saw you
I smiled
With pure happiness
Gold rays from the sun
Run to the pool every day
Barbeque with friends
Cool wind through the trees
Falling red, orange, and yellow
Fall: favorite season
My three haiku:
grandpa’s wall picture …
the marigold my grandma
struggles hard to pick
a big loudspeaker
in every street and house lane …
peace mantra of Om
planning dad’s birthday …
I collect the smashed pieces
of my piggy bank
Once in a blue moon
Another February goes
Without my birthday
December rainstorm
The prayer of muezzin
Piercing through darkness
An icy stillness
The stories we would afraid
To hear in darkness
sakura petals
poking through war-torn rubble
life still finds a way
when Mother Nature
paints with filigrees of frost
windscreens become art
my son stops crying…
the winter rainbow, a bridge,
for his friend to cross
on grandmother’s knee
listening to old stories . . .
reblooming roses
The blue-eyed doll lies
sweet and still in lacy pink,
beside the skid marks.
The old woman turns,
as she’s done for many years,
but sees no one there.
Inside the steel pot
left here many months before
I find tiny bones.
morning stillness
just the trembling of leaves
outside my window
precambrian rocks
i talk to my son about
the Big Bang
warm summer evening—
sound of children playing
in the ghetto lanes
Please disregard the above . Here is my final submission:
morning solitude
the trembling of aspen leaves
outside my window
precambrian mountain
i talk to my son about
the great explosion
hot summer evening
the sound of children playing
in ghetto lanes
Thanks, Mona. Your revision has been noticed.
Friends matching mountains
Your stocking feet in puddles
A stone in my shoe
Creaks from floor above
Footsteps. Drawers shut. You call.
Let’s stay here awhile.
Blue birds blue flowers
On blue branches in blue grass
Soothing bedroom toile
winter’s crescent moon
surrounded by brilliant stars
north wind spins the earth
shincha slowly steeps
gathered beyond the yak fields
dewdrops sparkling
withered tea flowers
beneath showering starlight
cast shadows on stones
spider web garlands
adorn the first passerby
on this wooded trail
dragonfly islands
his small kneecaps bob above
the cool rippling stream
invisible loon
gliding on a midnight lake
bright stars on its back
Thorns, like those of life
Though they prick, they’re protection
Overcome your thorns
1.
Spring Rose in Winter
Your reign untimely ending
Fight on my Monarch!
2.
Scholar of Autumn
The Archive is in full bloom
Harvest the knowledge
3.
Birdie of the West
Angelic voice of the sky
Your Legend in Sand
the strong summer wind
the two-tired bicycle–
the sound of laughter
the blue moon rises
amidst the rustling bamboos ….
i lean on a void
———-
a murmuration—
starlings form dance patterns to
internal rhythms
———-
breezy hydrangeas …
patches of the pale blue sky
sway by a hill path
———-
Moon in the sky, bright.
Lovely nature, touching heart,
Clouds, blocking sight.
Moon in the sky, bright,
Lovely nature, touching heart.
Clouds, blocking sight.
Walk across the woods
the path is covered in cracks.
Downpour from last night
*
Beautiful sunset
on a warm summer evening.
Hope it gets cooler.
determined jasmine
sweetly creeping up fences
while destroying them
showing her colors,
bold without apology,
autumn maple tree
on a rainy day
mushrooms peek from underground
raising umbrellas
1.
early autumn mist—
a snail’s silver trail glimmers
on wet dewed green grass
2.
the koel’s summer song
seeps through each of my senses
—neither of us is
sunniest day today—
the lady bird looks upward
pleading for passage
Knots tie across days
Like old ghosts remembering
Myself, refracted.
Roadrunner scratches
the sun-bleached sand, crisscrossing
deep coyote tracks
Plastic pink pony
sits in summer sand, swathed in
hissing diamonds
Monsoon swells heavy
deep clouds full and ready, us
mortals stuck below
Slurping ripe mangoes
This is the gold of summer
Sweet as fledgling years.
Rain pours like silence
Footprints gone in the torrent
The earth is rinsed clean.
A meteor falls
The night sheds luminous tears
And we wonder why.
White sails reflect clouds
To dance the sea in slivers
Above the whale’s eye
Dancing in warm rain
Tropical heat loosens limbs
A crocodile smiles
The song of the bees
Sipping nectar in the heat
Birds wait for the seeds
Soil, water, and air
elements still cold, waiting
to become new souls
A rumble rises
spring mountains shed white blankets
and powder settles
Twittering echoes and
enters the mouth of a cave
sleeping bear awakens
Cup the small spider
Rehome her in flower bed
while cats look askance
On our womens’ hike
we linger at each flower
seeing there ourselves
Suffuse coral light
spreads to kiss horizon line
Waves eat fireball
Red no longer flows,
Goodbye is sometimes easy.
A breath in, then out.
Wild exquisite night!
A blanket sky shimmering
Joy envelops me
Despite my efforts
Omicron got me real bad
Wear a mask, be cool.
Moved by moderator from ‘What makes a good Haiku’
Wild exquisite night
A blanket sky shimmering
Peace envelops me
Red no longer flows,
Goodbye is sometimes easy.
A Breath in, then out.
Despite my efforts,
Omicron got me real bad
Wear a mask, be cool.
Stale hell on my breath
I said don’t bother dreaming –
In dust, I repent.
at the roadside stand
I fill my bag with three pears
and the harvest moon
It’s still pozole rojo but
You better bypass
that tocino, ‘cause it’s our
receta Kosher.
Note: “It’s still pozole rojo but” is the title of the haiku. Pozole rojo is a Mexican stew typically made with pork. In Spanish, “tocino” means bacon, and “receta” means recipe. For context, I’m a Mexican Jew. Thank you!
Honey. Sugar. Lips.
The Sweetest taste. Touch. Feeling.
Flowing in your mouth.
Nine..Five..I love you.
Nine..Seven..And Loving you
Today, its still you.
The moon cries to me,
Someday I will forgive you,
The sun screams louder.
Here are my haiku submissions:
serrated pink conch…
the rising waves of the sea
resound in my ear
*
midsummer shower
spills in the temple courtyard
plumeria scent
*
sun-soaked paddy field
the old farmer shades his eyes
with a calloused hand
teeter-totter joy
two winter scarves are trailing,
tracing rainbow’s arc
barefoot on the lawn
avoiding the snag and squelch
of fallen medlars
dusty bare pasture
an old racehorse lifts his head:
the white waterfall
Here are my haiku submissions:
Woven bracelet, words
Of old becoming, new birth
Yes, I am undone
Twins’ twinned eyes, laughter
Here the call of summer bird
Freckles and honey
My mother and tea
Bright mint leaves on hot water
I drink my childhood
Thank you for your consideration.
Pretzel Haiku
I caught a pretzel
With my clean, bare feet today
Shall I eat it now?
Bedtime
Laundered crisp bed sheets
Dirty unwashed unsocked feet
Soil a good night
Or for those who pronounce soil with one syllable:
Soil a good night’s sleep
The Creek
the creek water does
not question – it just flows, goes
it knows all is well
sudden August rain . . .
a boy hastens his footsteps
towards the puppy
rumbling and thunder —
the sound of church bell after
the covid lockdown
blossoms of the spring . . .
two high school children fighting
for the window seat
sudden August rain . . .
a boy hastens his footsteps
towards the puppy
rumbling and thunder —
the sound of church bell after
the covid lockdown
blossoms of the spring . . .
two high school students fighting
for the window seat
A pike catching fish
Aiming to have a great meal
To be caught by me
A bird lands beside
I feel it has to like me
But seeds are nicer
I leave jars in woods
Walk further away proudly
Trip over bottles
Jellyfish Moon–clouds
trail like tentacles trapping
stars for her supper
Full moon spies between
my blinds. A voyeur deprived
of earthly delights
Examining trees–
gnarled branches hold stories
like my weathered heart
1.
(Ekphrastic) Haiku
FUJIWARA no Yasumasa Playing the Flute by Moonlight
Yoshitoshi (1839-1892)
amidst the tall grass
notes take flight to hunter’s moon
beguile the wicked
2.
single barren branch
against winter frozen tears
burns cardinal’s heat
3.
decades of advice
incomprehensible spring
now echo their worth
Suzanne S. Austin-Hill
Freeing a caged bird
the rescuer gains merit
Destroy the cages!
While grain may sustain
it’s the chaff that seals your fate
Winnow carefully!
steam rises off heads
chill morning meditation
monkeys in hot springs
daughter wife mother
a life of hibernation
from being herself
willow tree branches
husband’s hands around my hips
swaying with the breeze
coming home to you
is laying in a patch of
sunlight that can’t fade
geese are overhead
angry, cacophony honks
mad the sun still shines
Climbing the cliff’s edge,
I pause to look at the stars,
Unafraid to fall.
Girl walking at night,
You ask if she’s alright—
Fox eyes, blood-stained grin.
Dark descends sooner,
Bringing a chill with the wind—
Pumpkin spice returns.
Hi, Jennifer Elise Wang,
I read your third haiku several times, until the lines conceptualized, and I could imagine shorter days in proper season and almost smell the nutmeg and ginger in the air. Wonderful traditional haiku with proper theme and structure consistent with the brief. Thank you.
the milky way course
endless stars drift in and out
the impermanence
breeze through window
wind chime twinkle fills the air
dream of (b)right summer
flutter…kite flutters
little kids freely follow
where butterfly flits
(1)
midsummer morning–
visiting sparrows play hops
on my porch tiles
(2)
new life past the drought
withered tree among the greens
declines second chance
(3)
after the rainstorm
the rapid rushes downstream
to gather itself
Kindly consider the revised versions below as my entry poems:
(1)
midsummer morning–
visiting sparrows play hops
on my checkered porch
(2)
new life past the drought
withered tree among the greens
declines second chance
(3)
after the rainstorm
the river rushes downstream
to cleanse herself off
Thank you.
Thanks very much for your entries.
Brought down by the wind
Destroying the raven’s nest
Shelter for the mouse
Cooling the turbine
A backward flowing river
Energy wasted
The barriers failed
A full moon and a spring tide
The flood plain reformed
Cracking of a stick;
One by one, worried heads turn —
A mass exodus.
Drowsily awake,
wiped the foggy window, and
from end to end — white.
A strong gush of blood;
People come together with
a strong gush of joy.
Cheryl Licata
August 11, 2022
seeds sprout grow droop fall
decayed orphans not chosen
bees sip apple juice
marshmallow fluff clouds
icy blue popsicle sky
wings lick confection
rapacious seagull
soaring scavenger seeks crumbs
spies youngster’s sandwich
Way to go, Cheryl!
You are too much, Suzanne!!! You know, I love all your poems…
Yes, I can be a bit much. But, thanks for hangin’ out with me all these years!
hard not to notice
how the sun feels stronger
with each looming year
Strolled through Central Park,
Stepped on pigeon eyeball—yikes—
Now haunted by grapes.
Gentle water flows
Sunlight illuminating
Rocks rounded by time
Sunlight elucidates
Casting light upon new life
An explosion of colours
Light across the sky
The weight of thunderous air
A storm approaches
reflecting two worlds
before the wind and after
dandelion seeds
the goldfish glowing
in a bowl that quietly
annihilates it
looking at the moon
not sure where to put my hands
so they just dangle
one hundred starlings
silhouette the falling night:
last songs of summer
lost in perfumed air:
a small skipper is crossing
the wildflower sea
leaden calls of gulls
drifting through the morning port
the shimmer of snow
ENTRY 1: SPRING AGAIN
Lipstick red Poppies
Flirt with bachelor’s Buttons
Weary of creepers.
ENTRY 2: WATER AEROBICS
Young swimmers witness
Gray heads bobbing to oldies–
And stay in their lane.
ENTRY 3: THE LAST RECONCILIATION
I nod and agree
When he says he’s through with me
Let it be. I’m free!
Winter #1
Amber light dances
Leaving shadows in its wake
White ash falls like snow
Winter #2
Branches reach to blue
Bare skin trembles from the cold
You pull me closer
Winter # 3
Coffee in my cup
My sundried lips part for it
Sugar bites my teeth
A poem so short
One of the finest it is
Yet it qualifies
Simplified writing
Of three lines a poem told
Five, seven, five pattern
Have a guess my friend
What could it be: Sonnet, Ode?
‘Haiku?’ Right answer
Her hand reaches me
And mine swallows the fire
Drunk in my embrace.
Falling Autumn tears –
painting in a dark colour
exquisite sorrow
A summer desert –
my feet make waves in the dunes
– an ocean of sand.
Frothing and frothing
Would have stopped it if could—
I cry, she froths the more.
Night cold’s hell for her;
Winter nights all the more hell:
She sneezes to tears.
A tribute to my favourite season –
#1
Vibrant brolly tops
paint the bazaar’s bustling streets
veiled by charcoal skies
#2
Little paper boats
drift in water logged bylanes;
Chai and charcha thrive
#3
A congregation
Of lusty frogs is singing;
Raucous monsoon choir
love the third one!
Thank you so much 🙂 I appreciate you 🙂
#3 – third line has six syllables
I and many others pronounce long /i/ words such as “choir” and “fire” as one syllable. Thus the syllable count in “raucous monsoon choir” is five. But I am aware that others pronounce these words with two syllables. In this contest, where we have variants of English from all over the world, I do my best to accept regional pronounciations, even if they are not my own. Thanks for letting me make my policy known!
You’re welcome. My pleasure.
Thank you for sharing your feedback Suzanne. I myself tend to break it into 2 syllables, but from reading a lot here, I’ve come to understand that more people read it as a single syllable than as 2. Margaret has answered it wonderfully 🙂
Takes all kinds (and pronunciations) to make the world go ‘round.
Thank you so much for clarifying Margaret – both the syllable count and the policy. That is really kind of you 🙂
Who can sew and darn
or better yet, embroider,
in this dystopia?
Third line has six syllables
lost innocence
intimacy violated
a life destroyed
heart on fire
love flows elusivily
fingers that caress
perfume in the park
the scent of limeblossoms
i get lost in you
jeer
Netherlands
russet leaves alight-
pennies rustle in delight
Autumn’s butterscotch
barbed balls drop, roll, peep
chestnuts, autumn’s chocolates
nutty, it struck me
golden philamot
calloused leafs a bass choir
grey nightingale t(h)rills
Second Haiku – second line has 6 syllables. We don’t typically say choc-o-lates.
Thank you, Suzanne. I hear it now 🙂
Thus, my second haiku is:
barbed balls drop, roll, peep
chestnuts, autumn’s chocolate bites
nutty, it struck me.
Wonderful (and tasty)!
sparrow in her palm
the impossible angle
of its perfect head
a misty hillside
tea leaves ready for picking
the scent of bright green
a little tug boat
emerging from the grey mist
tows spring behind it
combing her mom’s hair . . .
in the distance, waterfalls
ripple with silver
bleak suburban street
even the skinny sparrow
searches for a friend
small yellow flowers
bees, brown moths and butterflies
giddy from their feast
alone with my pod
in the kitchen, shelling peas —
Covid holidays
Yes, there is a dove
sitting in a tall oak tree.
I hear a high coo.
You ask, “Who would name
a groundhog Woodchuck Norris?
Well, would Chuck Norris?”
Diddly, zilch, nada,
naught, nil, goose egg, zip, nix, aught…
Nothing comes to mind.
Technically, these are senryu. Good senryu, but not classical haiku
Thanks for your comment, Eric. It will help me explain what I accept as haiku a little further. Let me assure everyone reading this that I appreciate your contributions to the study and writing of haiku. I may contradict some of your expressions, but that does not diminish my regard.
I responded to Barbara L Silberg, because she told Michael Lowenberg that his entries in this haiku contest were good senryu rather than classical haiku. This made it necessary for me to say more precisely what I accept as haiku in this contest, lest Michael or anyone else presume by my silence that entries like Michael’s do not meet the requirements. Notice that I am NOT judging Michael’s poems by what I say here! I do not judge entries while the contest is going on. Rather, I clarify my idea of what a haiku is.
Beyond the 5-7-5 form, haiku must have a seasonal reference (kigo) and allude to nature. Haiku can use language artistry of any kind that fits the form, so as to achieve its special effect.
My view comes from reading thousands of haiku. I will once again state that there is no sharp distinction between haiku and senryu. Eric, you say that the distinction is thematic, but I say no themes are off limits to haiku. It is not the topic or the mode of discourse that makes a senryu. It is the lack of kigo and nature. There are plenty of witty, satirical, and storytelling haiku. Do you know the one about the icicle hanging from Buddha’s nose? Excellent haiku with a sardonic tone critics would like to reserve for senryu! But it meets every requirement for haiku, and shows how much freedom of expression haiku have. Never think the requirements of poetic form diminish freedom of speech!
I’ll give another splendid haiku to demonstrate. This was written by 18th century Buddhist nun Chiyo-ni, and translated by me.
Look at clear water.
Considering front and back,
it has neither one.
“Clear water” is a summer kigo, and water itself is an element of nature. But this isn’t a description of nature, it’s a philosophical poem about non-duality–or as one interpreter says, “the coemergence of all phenomena as one.” There’s no landscape and no time of day. For readers who must have a nature sketch as haiku, or witty cynicism about human frailty as senryu, it is neither one. Non-duality, as the poet said.
We have many haiku in varied styles in this contest, and I’m glad you’ve enjoyed them, Eric, so much as to make comments on several. That’s something I as contest judge cannot do, and I’m sure the poets appreciate your attention.
Thanks, Barbara, for bringing up the distinction. There is, however, no sharp dividing line between haiku and senryu, even among the works of the Japanese masters. For this contest, I accept as haiku any poem in haiku form with reference to a season and alluding to nature in some way. Seasonal reference is often achieved by simply naming an animal or plant associated with a season. Language artistry such as Michael Lowenberg’s puns can contribute to many different kinds of poetry, including both haiku and senryu.
Hi, Margaret; it’s Eric. I enjoyed your response to Barbara concerning “Lowenberg’s puns;” however, if I may, I find that while Lowenberg’s puns fit easily into either form category (haiku or senryu), Lowenberg blurs the “dividing line” with thematic hybrids, touching on nature and cynicism in the senryu form, where reference to a season is not required. The dividing line even among Japanese Masters, has always been thematic rules requiring season and time of day for haiku, whereas senryu was allowed more freedom of expression in a witty, tavern, storytelling sort of way to poke fun at human frailty. I agree, however, both forms are haiku structurally and syllabically, and both are otherwise distinct by restrictions required in haiku versus their absence in senryu. I applaud your work and caring critique and will continue reading the talented contributions to the competition. I hope this helps.
Sincerely,
E. Owen
Eric, my reply to you somehow went higher up in this thread than I expected. Please take a look immediately below Barbara Silberg’s comment.
Please i need help, i can’t find the comment section. Here is my poem, and hope it’s considered
Chilling with the cold
Unquestionable downpour
Beating… blabbing rain.
A duel with my chi…
Parading the market square
It’s masquerade festival.
The eagle’ talon
Piecing on the Y image
Giant of Africa.
Yes, Adekeye Oluwasegun Lukman, it is difficult even for me sometimes to navigate this large number of poems. I am very glad to see your haiku, and they are officially entered. Thank you!
Entry 1 –
Snow blankets the day
Creatures seek comfort and warmth
Waiting for the sun
Entry 2 –
Thunder beats the sky
Lightning strikes the ground, tremble
We all run away
Entry 3 –
Floods break through the land
Offering devastation
Everything is wet
Covid’s come to stay
Man, unable to curb its power
Crazy, odd cosmos.
Time alters everything
Slow-moving, rippling water
Transcends humanity.
Age is but a stage
Performance glistens briefly
Leaving empty void.
Time alters everything
Slow-moving, rippling water
Transcends humanity.
Age is but a stage
Performance glistens briefly
Leaving empty void.
an old abandoned chapel ‒
an hot offering of light
lies among the ruins
wedding ceremony
the snow that assimilates
the meadow and the path
it is so strictly short
the life of the butterfly ‒
intensity of a farewell
Please i need help, i can’t find the comment section. Here is my poem, and hope it’s considered
Chilling with the cold
Unquestionable downpour
Beating… blabbing rain.
A duel with my chi…
Parading the market square
It’s masquerade festival.
The eagle’ talon
Piecing on the Y image
Giant of Africa.
Excuse me:
it is so strictly short
the life of the butterfly ‒
intensity of farewell
Please consider this as the third haiku. Apologies, thank you very much
it is so strictly short
the life of the butterfly ‒
intensity of farewell
never before and
never again – this moment
is a solitaire
Gold cloud which is now seen there above the green.
Inextricable
A wild rose, a hawthorn tree
Like Rodin’s lovers
Ice covers the pond
I stamp a hole with my heel
Now the birds can drink
A majestic wind
Sweeps down the wide avenue
The trees bow and scrape
Good to see you on the SCP pages Tony! Well done.
Indigo eyes still
Open in the deep valley
Waiting for true love
dark sunrises start
the day off cold and dreary
sunsets come too soon
Winds rip the gray clouds
Blowing mist collides with rocks
Freedom overcomes
Sodden rolling clouds
give birth to silvery veins
lightning strikes again
Miniscule shelled troops
ingested by the ocean-
Genesis of life
Blistering syrup
oozes from the Earth’s belly,
what an eruption!
Renew
Sharp spearmint sprouts up
Crisp as cooling, early rains
Smiling senses shine
Revive
Luscious lemon balm
Sends sweet scent, refreshing splash
Summer’s citrus kiss
Restore
Roasted rosemary
November campfire embers
Earthy warmth within
Books recall the way
Of trees—they sigh and whisper
Of skeleton leaves
Books speak. Pages shift
And sigh, like skeleton leaves
Recalling wind’s kiss.
Shelved books feel echoes
Of rain, of wind, of sun. They
Dream in emerald.
I often wish that
Midnight’s sand could sweep away
Echoes of your kiss
*Hi, I forgot that this was only supposed to be 3 entries. Apologies! Please disregard the last haiku I submitted. Thank you.
Thanks, Stephanie. I took note!
Chilling with the cold
Unquestionable downpour
Beating… blabbing rain.
A duel with my chi…
Parading the market square
It’s masquerade festival.
The eagle’ talon
Piecing on the Y image
Giant of Africa.
The fish in the pond
breaks the ice at Zuikoji
whale songs in the breeze
“The fish in the pond breaks the ice” （魚氷に上る）is a seasonal word in spring.
A bridge at Zuikoji temple (雪鯨橋) in Osaka, which is made of whale bones, was constructed in the 18th century for praying for a good catch and as a memorial service for the sacrificed whales.
(Please note that whale fishing was one of major sources of livelihood at the poor fishing village at that time.)
Japanese version:
氷に上る魚の音を聞く雪鯨橋
That’s life don’t complain
On those pants a little stain
Because they were free.
Water is for life
If only I will drink it
Then I might survive.
Waiting for you here
While you decide to answer
And you never come.
I’m new to this and my first try to haiku poems. I didn’t know they had to do with nature. Can I try again and send 3 more and disregard the originals?
Yes, you may certainly do that. For help on the requirements, there are several places to click in the contest announcement above, especially the WHAT section. I believe the contest closes tomorrow night at midnight New York time. This area for posting poems will not work after that! Also notice that the results of the contest will appear on August 30. Good luck!
Thank you Margaret for your help!
with nowhere to be
the butterfly stops to sip
sunshine from the trees
I bring my chatter
to the crickets in the night
and become quiet
lake holds the shadow
sky holds the echo—the loon
is already gone
piano concert
hope hidden in every vibe
of the spider’s web
a violent wind
petals of cherry blossoms
among the ashes
Symphony of light
throbbing on a waterfall…
aroma of dawn
A caterpillar
hanging from a broken twig…
soon the miracle
Starry-eyed lovers
kissing under the full moon:
scent of cherry blooms
deep in the summer
two butterflies sharing a
small piece of shadow
the yesterday’s rain
held still in the palms of leaves
my tears left uncried
burning laces of
the sun blazed clouds, engulf me
a blood laden shroud
hiking in august in Israel
warm air and thorn paths
struggling and scared of snakes, and
sweat and dust and joy
all birds migrated
he remains empty handed
his fingers frozen
∞
midsummer party
air full of lavender scent
and sweating dancers
∞
such a sunny day
there’s not a cloud on the sky –
droughts everywhere
My offerings:
.
now i understand
what she meant by the blue moon
… neelakurunji
.
autumn swings in me
still can’t find the reason why
i cry in silence
.
first colouring book …
the sun rises with four
thousand sunflowers
.
a cup has a crack
abrading lips, and nectar
underneath its thorn
As the mist rumbles
A fallen snake sheds lightning
Clearing turbulence
Lustrum-long winters
Of my inner hemispheres
Await midnight suns
Brown stain on green grass
explodes to burst of sparrows
feathers in my chest.
Verdant leaves above
a torrent of squawks and sweeps
the cat walks quietly
Unbroken blue sky
breeze-brushed sun over all
God alone in charge
first homecoming trip
the headlights break the darkness
not tangled feelings
an unmoored sailboat
one-step-forwards, two-steps-back
of our love affair
Revision:
first homecoming trip
my headlights break the darkness
not tangled feelings
Cold evening,
A donkey bray’s,
While taking shelter with men.
A blazening fire,
A cat meows;
In the freezing of the night.
A weathered soul,
Treading a desolate moor;
Smell of Death!
Rains rinse off the night
from skies blurred into secrets
that still smell of time
The bird sits on songs
now woven from the dark light
of rumbling thunder.
The night condenses
Into black brown coffee drops.
They stain the morning.
Rain rinses the night
off skies blurred into secrets
that still smell of time
The birds sit on songs
now woven from the dark light
of rumbling thunder
The night condenses
into black brown coffee drops.
They stain the morning
unseen for ages
hunger stones reappearing
on the waterway
glory in the fall
a sagging barn in Vermont
draped in fresh colors
drought summer leaves droop
thirsting for absent rainfall
autumn comes early
pheasant taps on glass
dish of water placed outside
message understood
The maternal wind
that carries the sweet scents of
pollen and petals
In the bitter air,
Snowflakes dance delicately
and land perfectly
Golden leaves fall down
into a great pile, ready
for children to jump
this long July day
lingering over my wine
in backloaded light
a sudden rainfall
by open cottage windows
towels tossed on the floors
Mom’s dying garden
the sharp fingers of thistles
take it all at last
Great horned owl and I
Share the hours before morning,
Hunters joined in awe.
My child grasps a bud,
Full and fragile as her own
Youthful scent and hue.
The cat is outside,
Howling for some love and fun.
Take her. She’s ready.
to my cousins’ house
past wilting geraniums
the slap of sandals
5 PM nightfall
my wool hat dripping snowmelt
into red curry
held by its ribbons —
breezing past plum blossoms with
my box of eclairs
the rippling cursive
notating a bluer sky
in migrating geese
anniversary-
a single blossom floating
in my jasmine tea
slipping through the mist
a droplet from her paddle
the canoe at dawn
Blankets of moss draped
lavish furnishings help to
welcome insects home
The tide tells the moon
the dreamcatcher in the sky
to bring on the dawn
Fragments of pale light
cherryblossoms giggle and blush
dancing from the trees
Hi praying mantis
So pretty and green you are
Soon you will turn brown .
Cloudy days and nights
How long til you give us rain?
We need it right now.
Shades of blue and white
The sky is turning dark now
Thank you for the rain.
Moonless winter night
Telescope set up just right
Behold: ancient light!
Shadows growing tall
Grass grows slowly, if at all
Welcome back, dear Fall.
A warming planet
A couple falling in love
Let’s enjoy the end.
Hi, Sarah. It’s Eric. Not sure if you were submitting to brief that accepts traditional haiku in senryu form. But, If I may indulge you for a moment, while the first two pieces are enjoyable to read, they are considered haiku-syllabic tercet, and in that description if a brief calls for it, a form of American haiku with the focal elements on syllable and line structure. Traditional haiku, however, does not allow for rhyme. I hope this feedback will help. I look forward to reading more from you. Keep writing, and good luck.
Sincerely,
E. Owen
Sarah may have read my essay “What Makes A Good Haiku?” In it I offer several examples of good English-language haiku that use rhyme, meter, and alliteration. A poet may use these and other literary devices in haiku of traditional form (3 lines of 5, 7, and 5 syllables, including reference to a season of nature). Rhyme is NOT forbidden, and does occasionally occur in Japanese haiku. But this competition asks for traditional-form haiku in English, and therefore the artistic potential of the English language and English poetic traditions such as rhyme are most welcome, though not required.
I apologize if I re-enter my three haiku, but I was afraid I was not clear, and I had not received a confirmation response. Thank you very much, and good luck
an old abandoned chapel ‒
an hot offering of light
lies among the ruins
wedding ceremony
the snow that assimilates
the meadow and the path
it is so strictly short
the life of the butterfly ‒
intensity of farewell
Thank you, Maria. This is your confirmation that the above three are your entries.
Thank you, Margaret.
Holy night
telling small lie
to my kids
Long long ago
Grandma read the book
that I read
Ammusement park
Daddy keeps balloons
in the way
Trees sway in warm breeze
Soft chirrups burst through sunbeams
Blue birds on a branch
Jasmine morning scents
A Cloud of dragonflies float
Dog days of August
Mist wraps her winter
around velvet hills. Cows low
by evergreen trees
1
crops at death’s doorstep
when the sheets of grain rain come —
giving rescue breaths
2
creaky oak blocks clouds…
presenting a new target
for the magpies
3
some if these hostas
will flower grandly you know…
or do you not know?
1. Rust
Rust spots dust the leaves
So green they seemed, now dying
Fuzzy seeds fly. Why.
2. Splash!
Bare feet pound lush grass
While hairy green mosaics
top a still lake ’til…
meandering moon . . .
please tell how you met the star
in a rolling wave
beyond the red swing —
an old weeping maple tree
darkens the shadows
fading mountain goat . . .
why does the rolling fog bank
cover your footprints?
Tear drops down to earth
Middle of night, in forest
Sees the moon through trees
Ranges of Mountains
Colour fades, green to white
Hits the horizon
Hears soothing flute tune
In the midnight dark forest
Rushes to find none
Chilling with the cold
Unquestionable downpour
Beating… blabbing rain.
A duel with my chi…
Parading the market square
It’s masquerade festival.
The eagle’ talon
Piecing on the Y image
Giant of Africa.
The listless dancer
Pirouettes to the tombstone
For a final rest
Surrounded but alone
There is never a good time
For the sun to set
Five hallelujahs
Th repentance I needed
For my future sins
Heron’s ice thin step
Oil slick reflection ripples
Sodden feathers sink
sickle moon growing
over rows of summer wheat
soon for the harvest
fresh spring flowers left
at ancient raised stone circle
old celebration
Sturgeon moon hangs low
Fossil fish are not splashing
A silent red glow
full moon hangs around
for morning coffee—fading
out as I fade in
Dark clouds portend rain
S-shaped snake speeds toward shore
Spots our shadow, dives.
Standing mounds of white
Deck posts sport bishop’s mitre
Squirrels await cracked corn.
Flashing lights caution.
Northwoods diner homeward bound
Yield for loping bear.
Wanderlust:
I have wanderlust,
Miss soaring o’er waves and dust,
Heart now filled with rust.
From Al Gore
Temperatures rose,
All our leaders? Indisposed.
Extinction: It looms.
‘Tis a winter night.
You take your last frigid breath.
I shall join you soon.
The winter breeze blows.
The snow flurries flurry down.
Snow kisses your nose.
Thrust in a new world,
Look throughout the autumn night.
You are all alone.
Snowfall Memory
Withered fields flicker,
In time with the bonfire’s flare,
Wind melts away warmth.
Withered fields flicker,
In time with the bonfire’s flare,
Wind melts away warmth.
Apologizes, I wasn’t sure if this had submitted, plus I wanted to fix the formatting.
Apologies, I wasn’t sure if this had submitted, plus I wanted to fix the formatting.
Angel, you may have had difficulties because other poets were submitting at the same time. I am going to leave your excess remarks here because I don’t want to risk deleting any poems. Thanks for your contributions!
Doomed; being awwed and “loved”,
An illusion- belonging to family “behoved”,
Enslaving creatures- pleasure to fund.
Doomed; being awwed and “loved”,
An illusion- belonging to family “behoved”,
Enslaving creatures- pleasure to fund.
To heroes- flawed by dimes,
Ignored crimes, to build lasting successful regimes,
Cruel wars- fueling corrupt grimes.
Genesis Unwound
Colors tucked inward,
withdrawn. Russet clay to dust,
earth shaped into urn.
Humiliation:
the only enduring state
to this graceless life.
the fading snowfall
how it gives into the night
gently but firmly
the glittering ice
reflects the eyes of the doe
an old oak shelter
the shifting snowbanks
along a long twisting road
lingering fox prints
SEASONS
Come wander the dark
Won’t you stay ‘til sun, my spring
Promise never dies.
BROOKLYN
A string of tealights
on a seascape, as each wave
rolls safely to shore.
RADICALS
To seek salvation
is to harvest the desert.
Dry earth cannot grow.
July sun steals sweat
As the pine casket lowers—
Cicadas sing on.
Warm nights ring out,
Insects calling to themselves
Incessant chorus.
Secrets long buried
Beneath the rushing river
Now breathe summer air
I’m not a judge but I love all three. Especially the first. Funeral on a 90 degree day last week; you captured it.
What lies beneath
Above the water
Stillness, below feet frantic
Or maybe at peace
Nuts
Grief, in a nutshell
Consumes my insides and outs
Pervasive shading
Ego
Hi, could you watch me
String seventeen syllables
In gloried measure?
the sky is yellow
it morphs into purple/blue
now late summer dusk
drip, drip, drip the water
pools in the dirt, not the grass
just wait for the sun
not one green leaf left
the reds and yellows turn brown
the tree is naked
Will you walk with me
Through the changing fall forest
Leaves exhale goodbye
A sudden spring wind
exhales pink cherry blossoms
I look up and smile.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The grey, pewter sky
reveals present location
Southeast Alaska
hiding in the grass
cricket i hear you chirping
let me hide with you
Tiny yellow gears
scattered on summer lawns
raise and lower sun.
Out-of-season snow.
Flame-red tulips sizzle, hiss.
Ashes cover my path.
Some scribe a poem
in the key of wind, of sand.
Some, no font at all.
feathery green leaves
seasonal vegetables
rabbit’s midnight snack
an ant approaches
droplet hanging on a cane
bends it just enough
behind the sand road
field ablaze with wildflowers
lovely with bare feet
a patch of clover
stars deepen the green where two
elderly trees nod
the jungle floor yawns
wakes to drizzles a heated
cloud shakes from its hair
a bucket of sap
lighted by the harvest moon
a touch heavier
A cold blue waterloo
Cry me a river of blood
From wailing waters.
The sun stuns us still
Bird beaks agape silent scream
Living, just about
Tilapia gasp
The skin of the river breaks
They have left their nests
Air dense with water
Begging for the storm to break
Baking pavements wait
thAree of my haiku for your competition. Apologies for being so “last minute”…
Soft unseen sound
Green August apples fall to
Squirrels tiny hands
Drink up the blue sky
I clear the spoils of evening
From last nights table
Watching her drift by
In changing summer colours
Blossoming laughter
John Calvert 2022
departing summer…
a refugee girl changes
the clothes of her doll
*
lilacs in full bloom…
the silence before the storm
changing its color
*
cherry trees in bloom…
my grandma puts on again
her old wedding dress
Dust of sheer hotness,
Bitter the trace you left in:
Could have been my dream
The Swiss chard wilts, scorched.
Needs it more or less water?
More prayer, or less?
Mosquito-free nights:
dinner alfresco, with talk
of nature’s collapse.
hot red sun breathes fire
as cold blue salamander
breathes water and sky
On Texel Island,
seven thousand nesting terns
die; a boat sails by.
When you stare into
the abyss, what do you see?
Now look more closely.
All that is alive
will be dead, a fact of life.
None is immortal.
My heart is burning
to ash, to be flown by the
wind to the ocean.
I sing to the sun
Summer breeze bends my body—
Am I scarecrow or flower?
1
“the thrill of de-feet
Doctor Scholl is hero mine
to walk without ouch!”
2
“good intentions train
derailed by as-soon-as
tomorrow new start”
3
“haiku you demand
I might need to hai your ku
syllables scare me!”
a hot summer night
only a slice of the moon
for my refreshment
the sun almost down
only goldenrod flowers
between you and me
loud shots in the fall
the stork flies over Ukraine
on a different route
Chin-up chirps eat, hot
wind is like worms; down the warmth
mother couldn’t feed.
Leaves fall on rooftops—
tap-dance’s eat sounds; hear death
hush silence too loud.
Bats hang from dead pines—
wood mirrors the sun until
eyes replace candles.
Life has no meaning
We are born, we live, we die
We are forgotten
The smell of fresh grass
Mass murder, beheading blades
Drown the screams with “beauty”
Knock, the door opens
Ask, you surely will receive
Faith is all you need
Chai-ku
The Hebrew word chai:
multiples for charity
changing the decree
Hanukiah Haiku
Eight same-height candles
lit by one that’s out of line:
Inequality?
Passover Hangover
when the fourth cup
made Bubbe fail
the matzobriety test
Words strike like bullets
Springtime flower, your dreams fly
But your body fails
On Resting:
There are butterflies,
sipping sugar water drops,
in spring’s balmy breeze.
1.
even the gull knows
flying against the wind is
not how to get home
2.
puppy is planting
bones in the autumn garden
weary worms rejoice
Texas Home
Cool evening lone star
Shivers in an endless sky
Guiding the way home
footprints in the snow
fresh ink on winter’s canvas
shows me where to go
Sunshine and dew mixed
with the honey of a love—
tastes sweet like your skin.
Beaut in brevity,
like the soft words breathed while I
lay in your warm arms.
Secret moon so shy
Gentle crescent soft shimmer
Caress sleeping grass
Aloha
Tropical island
Frangipani enticed scent
Love whispers in breeze
ravenous red flames
devour ancient forests—
a doe calls her fawns
~~~
the sun’s golden sword
frees spring from winter’s stronghold—
shy blossoms emerge
~~~
birds twitter bees hum
blackbirds robins wrens chorus
—a springtime orchestra
Forbidden Kisses
As hot tears fall from the sky
Your father drives by
The crisp chills now wane
Fresh blooms, outside and within
Transform: into you
Heavy monsoon rains
meet the asphalt laid with hopes
with the steam, they rise
Cumulous clouds part
as golden nectar cascades
down their luscious curves
Dead Alcoves
In the freshly charred snow,
A twisted dove flapped about,
Waiting for spring love.
Dead Flowers
Lips shrink from stem’s bone,
Drop themselves through dirt and stone,
Hopeful to rise again.
Dead Poets
For this woven word,
they leave these pages unbidden
unwritten, smoked stars.
My desires are mocked
I’m Sisyphus without crime
Here I’ll climb this rock
Burnt from my limbo
I paid my dues in torment
Shadowed from the plan
I’ve had stagnant say
Pay me in life’s full beauty
Young but deserving