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WHO
Anyone in the world, of any age or background, may participate (SCP Membership not required). 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 a U.S. resident, must have a PayPal account or a bank that accepts U.S. checks, in order to receive prize money.
IMPORTANT: By submitting haiku to this contest, the contestant declares that the poems are his or her own work, and that they were written in the last twelve months and therefore are not a repeat submission from a previous year. Poems written using artificial intelligence (AI) are not allowed. Please submit using your first and last name, as we may find it difficult to distinguish between contestants who have similar first names.
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PRIZE
$200
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JUDGES
J. Thomas Rimer, Professor Emeritus of Japanese Literature, Theatre, and Art at the University of Pittsburgh; former chief of the Asian Division of the Library of Congress.
Margaret Coats, Ph.D. in English and American Literature and Language from Harvard University; retired from a career of teaching literature, languages, and writing that included considerable work in homeschooling for her own family and others.
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WHEN
Now until August 15, 2025, 6 pm EST (New York time). Results to be announced August 28, 2025. Please check back on August 28 or after to view the “Best Haiku of 2025” selected from this competition. NOTE: THE HAIKU CONTEST HAS ENDED! No more entries, the comments have been closed! Thanks to all who entered!
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HOW
Post your entries in the Comments below.
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WHAT
Each competitor may post in the comments below 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.
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 Once entries are posted, they can be revised or withdrawn ONLY by making another Comment.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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vaulting young squirrels,
flapping bats, and gliding birds—
we soar by watching
a soft, late spring rain,
four red umbrellas waiting
for the light to change
teeth bared, spine exposed,
umber fur in the gutter
shocks me walking past
New wedding season –
even the full moon is wearing
a veil of bride
The moon behind clouds –
the dog sniffles all around
for the lost shadow
The old clock tower –
a flock of crows fighting for
a place on the cross
1. Pink little blossom,
swaying in the gentle breeze,
tells of fruit to come.
2. Old and enduring,
white light shines on dusty road –
pilgrims and the moon.
3. White bobber plunges,
Hook floats among rock and weed;
red fishes dart – hide.
Childhood’s vibrant spark,
Shifts like shadows on the wall,
Springing of the soul.
Bird songs in morning,
Death’s mourning interrupted—
Selfish hearts in grief.
In shadows we walk,
Finding joy in fractured light—
Life’s dark jest unfolds.
just after the storm
a sound of water drowns out
late evening church bell
on the way to school
in the pocket there’s still left—
grandma’s apple pie
another full moon
brightens all the countryside
lushy cotton field
day of utmost blue
clouds drift across each other
to figure things out
June Surprise
Move, darling daughter.
Swim to the sound of my voice
Singing you lovesongs.
My Daughter, Baby
My daughter, baby:
My longing, mother-hunger for you
Has made you so sweet.
Ripening
The tree ripened to
Autumn as my baby
Ripened into real.
afternoon shower
suddenly chokes the warm sun
umbrella closeness
ahh spring ohh my spring
how great is a new spring day!
Mmm, etcetera
grey winter drizzle
draining the houses of life
an unwelcome guest
early morning dew
welcoming rays woo the pearls
my daydreams melt warm
Mt.Everest thoughts
chase away my winter blues
solitude’s splendor
yonder distant hills
setting sun meets rising moon
evening rendezvous
1. Fog
We bulge out of half-
viscous day. Fade on its blear
iris. Scale to grey.
2. hoary mustard
A bright weed by the
road, its moth snare netting dark —
and breath snags, star-meshed.
3. roadside mustard
Mind, tangled on the
nodes of nebulae — moth weed
that lures remembrance.
YES!
both thumbs up
YES!
and again YES!
YES!
Crickets still chanting
on Thanksgiving blind with hope—
joy in the sorrows!
*
An eagle fallen
weather-worn along this road—
just a newspaper.
*
Trout kisses rise up
across the pond reflecting
sky of puckered clouds.
YES!
you get it!!
summer afternoon –
resting on the sea surface
seagulls and the sun
little night music –
Mozart in the canopy
cricket on the leaf
an old octopuss
slides down the rock to the sea –
a morning sunrise
bodacious goddess
dew in sun’s glittering gaze
Spring flows to the drain
deserts myrrh rises
above the crust of a dune
Mary in a spoon
Haiku is a sham
Unlike Epic’s fertile ford
A seasonal brook
the last of the three –
reflection on poetry . . .
yeah! it REALLY works!!
joining in prayer
for my grandmother’s long life
her grieving village
cardinal returns,
hops along the picket fence,
little blur of fire
–
coarse beneath my hands
splintering bark, bustling leaves
truth, an oak with roots
–
petals in the grass
these lazy lilacs, spilling
their cursive secrets
spring wind song playing
the time between you and us
stick :: stick insect dance
a distant laughter
handfuls of childhood moss takes
the rest of the tree
two parallel skies
stomping at the edge of the storm
toddlers rainbow splash
the pine I planted
thirty seven years ago
whispers me to sleep
Enigma of earth—
Archetype & miracle
Playing in the sun
Over the eons
Imprinted in fossil rock
The dream of a bird
Under the vegetable eye
Of the winter moon
An orchard of snow
the oak tree grows on
my son helped me planting it
fifty years have passed
reincarnation . . .
the late gardner’s seed packets
ready for planting
the armchair hero
he turns down the TV sound
to stop the missiles
captured red starfish
in a little boy’s bucket—
the distant static
hunting the pheasants. . .
intimate relationship
with the food I eat
treasured memories—
becoming vermilion-tinged
the closest cranes
fragile ceasefire—
a battlefield becoming
an ice skating rink
Morning wind –
a scar on my knee,
no memory of the game
A dog without leash
sniffs a trail beside the road –
utterly still
A torn sugar sack –
grains spill into stillness,
one by one by one
Hello:
I’m confused. I sent three haiku entries by this comment section; but they only place anything appears is in some other section, not associated with the contest?
I’ll send this, then try to come into this comment section elsewhere and send
my haiku section once more. Yes, I’m utterly confused. GUY GRAYBILL
Judges,
Mr. Graybill placed his haiku on the “examples” post…
Here are his entries:
My three haiku selections:
Love stories abound,
‘Tho destined to end sadly,
As all loves must end!
We are ever lost….
We’ll never find the river!
Ahhh! There’s the fog bank!
Poem rejected.
An invalid count was found.
Seppuku’s my fate!
Thank you, Guy Graybill, for these haiku. Hope you are no longer confused, thanks to Mike Bryant’s explanation. And thank you, Mike, for scanning comments, noticing entries posted in the wrong place, and setting things right!
shuffling ankle-deep
through the fallen prophets
of a maple grove
the end of summer –
a toy pail and shovel left
behind in the dunes
in a fallow field
waiting for familiar hands –
father’s wheelbarrow
on the cusp of spring –
the return of the osprey
forsythia blooms
gliding through the reeds
a water beetle pauses –
stillness in the flow
tinkling in the breeze
crystal bell whispers coolness –
summer’s gentle song
let’s pick blueberries
then call Oma for the
streusel recipe
from ashes you rise
ignore the trolls, lacy Queen
who call you a weed
but your deadly roots
i’d love you purple lythrum
summer’s femme fatale
Home beneath the clouds,
Silver ferns sway in the breeze
Tui calls me home
Mist lifts from the sea
The pohutukawa burns
On a salt-kissed shore
I miss moana
I pine for the whenua
Aotearoa