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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 Once entries are posted, they can be revised or withdrawn ONLY by making another Comment.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who submits more than three entries will have ALL his or her entries disqualified, unless excess entries are clearly withdrawn by a later Comment.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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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