.
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.
.
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.
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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 Once entries are posted, they can be revised or withdrawn ONLY by making another Comment.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
.
.
With the water’s pace
pilgrims slowly make their way
to the warm spring’s call
Life’s winding path
like this curving mountain road
seeking peaceful rest
Path’s summit reached
warm comfort in a tea cup
green calm now finds you
summer solstice
on the historic river
poets, tears and dumplings
on the radio — war
on the table a couple’s
new wedding letter
Chinese New Year do
In the red packet money
and his love letter
summer solstice
on the historic river
poets, tears and dumplings
on the radio — war
on the table a couple’s
new wedding letter
Chinese New Year do
In the red packet money
and his proposal
Two hearts enfold each
other: origami of
love, union, fate, life.
Joanne Gram
Steps in the driveway
Crisp autumn oak leaf passing
me at my window
stillness in the pond
a dragonfly splits the light
without making sound
first frost on the grass
the morning sun slowly lifts
a veil from the earth
abandoned temple
moss climbs the forgotten gods
green reclaiming stone.
cast from a garden
as faint shadows on this earth
longing to return
a leaf folds and bends
to the pressure of rain drops
finding their way home
Sunlit dreamy days
Float through golden summer haze
Into memory
Musky amber scents
Swirl in sultry wistful air
Infusing my mind
White virgin snowdrops
Winter’s gems whisper to me
Immortality
casting light tackle
high into the wind above
crashing sounds of surf
ocean winds’ fingers
trace playful shapes in the sand
stirring gulls and tears
Hunter’s supermoon
somehow we forgot what we
mean to each other
Title: The Sound
I always wonder
why it beated like that, now
I know why it bled…
sixteen million years
these white waves meet black cliffs.
My friend lies near death
Old trees, old darkness
summer nap on cool mosses
Trees are drinking light
it’s his song, whose choice?
“Video” or “Figaro”
wren’s familiar voice
1. Late summer dusk
dragonfly at dusk—
its wings catch the last warm light,
gone before I speak
2. First snowfall
hush of first snowfall—
lantern’s glow on empty road,
footsteps far away
3. New moon
bare branches shiver—
somewhere a new moon rises,
no one to see it
Bare trees do not speak.
The sky forgets your first name.
Even crows have gone.
Snow swallows the path
the one you once walked with hope,
now lost in the drift.
No fire, no sound here.
Just your breath against the glass,
clouding what once was.
warm campfire coffee
one end of the wooden bench
covered with wet moss
•
fingertips over
scales of a fossil lizard
who remembers me?
•
Labor Day picnic
a checkered tablecloth spread
under a parked jet
•
Eric Owen
Never have I been
where hot springs peep through the soil
Even in winter
Verdant rolling hills
Geothermal salty ash
I wish I were there
I made my peace with
steely shapeless wandering
Hot spring under foot
summer butterfly
an automated email
from classmates dot com
spotted rose petals
discovering acne scars
on his school photo
the fading glitter
around an unread poem
a snail’s silver slime
Today’s not like old
In each era we’re told
The truth? Now is gold!
—
Aged, father time
In future still far will chime
Meanwhile, you’re fine
—
I just don’t know how
It has all vanished somehow
And when was it now?
I’m working on translating all my March poems about birds into haiku, and here are three of them:
Lank-winged as Ravens
Snow-flurried pairs of Crows
Claim their landscape share.
Sunny and springlike,
Snow almost gone from the fields –
Starlings’ sudden song.
A springtime Redtail
Upright on a flat-topped pole
Scans Cattails for prey.
She was narcissist
I was chauvinist for her
storm in the tea cup
He is playing guitar
strings vibrate his notations
feathers play thin air
“Goodbye”, she exited
“I am not your care giver”
Umbrella nodded
yellow tulips
among the bomb survivors
stains of blue
blooming chestnuts
white and pink mixture
forgetting myself
storks kissed by frogs
a never ending story
at the old lake
monsoon evening
a bulbul flutters its wings
to the breeze’s rhythm
—–
first monsoon rainfall
the river and clouds unite
in throes of passion
—–
autumn evening
the candle sheds waxy tears
a flame on its head
—–
hiss of meadow grass
a water strider drifting
across the horse trough
the scent of diesel
where the tractor crossed the lane
drifting willow seed
derelict farmhouse
a cloud of bats emptying
into the half-light
to err is divine
as if a wink in its eye
an elm tree squirrel
unceasing rustling
of leaves in the autumn breeze . . .
our search for housing
a rainbow appears –
in touch with expatriates
all over the world
golden eagle nest
a small miracle on top
of that mountain there
vultures waiting for
the remains of sacrifice
on the temple tree
knocking emptiness
I cross the valleys within
now stand at stone gate
on the river’s bank
his soul is lighted for peace-
lantern in the sky
Truth is uncovered
Wolves have gone away to feast
Men are abandoned
Sad dandelion
Met his certain destiny
Be gone with the wind
Sometime long ago
When birds were first in this world
People still had dreams
facing an ocean
alone on the promenade
grief comes on in waves
sheep in pouring rain
hard against a drystone wall
huddling together
Beautifully done.
A lone oasis,
beckoning parched travellers.
Water wrought from sand.
Carved by millennia.
Under the Saharan sand
a desert rose blooms.
Above the yellow
of undulating sand dunes –
infinite blueness.
Before time began
Water formed a thought of life
We bob in the waves
Before time began
Ripples in a Spring puddle
An ancient mirror
Before time began
Not in galaxies far off
I meditate still
meeting the in-laws —
the magpies in the yard at
their best behaviour
the silent treatment —
brooding thunder rolling in
on june beetle wings
making a big fuss
about the smallest of things — singing cicadas
Humorous haiku are always fun to read. There are poignant, deeply spiritual haiku and then there are the everyday simple life haiku. For me, they both have a place. Good job. Here is a haiku I wrote about Cicadas:
Evening cicadas
quiet rest before next song-
Good, good vibrations
Good luck on the competition.
still pond at twilight
a small frog contemplates
on a drifting leaf
*
sunlight and shadow
white lily gently drifting
across mirrored calm
*
warm June afternoon
beneath the golden sunlight
a frog claims its throne
heatwave on the land
if I am the main problem
how can I help her?
Approaching twilight
The dust from the cattle hooves
Beckoning banshee
Glistening like pearls
Adorned with water droplets
Purple lotuses
A wood-fired oven
Pepperoni and four cheese
Gossip aplenty
Storm clouds glowering
Dark foreboding shadows loom
Cut by bright rainbow
you forget they’re there –
the sacred spaces among
the inspired words
a raw green rainfall
and in the yellow kitchen
the chicken sizzles
myriad flowers
for one tablespoon honey!
but she likes her work
I am withdrawing these haiku from the contest and will post three new ones below.
Thank you and sorry for any inconvenience.
Like a beard of ice
Preparing for a sun shave
Frost begins to weep
Solstice signals change
The seasonal shift complete
Shadow and light play
The steep cost of life
Even while the world burns down
The birds sing in spring
God makes no mistakes
A spring bird with a clipped wing
Plans hidden in song
She opens her eyes
To forests once out of sight
Gentleness of life
First green leaves unfold—
eyes awaken to the wood,
soft hum of spring rain.
Beneath plum blossoms—
a swallow, one wing broken,
hides dreams in its song.
Ash falls like petals—
while wildfire scorches the earth,
the nightingale sings.
Spring light in her hands,
yet she saw only the dusk—
gold in a pine box.
Ash falls like petals—
while wildfire scorches the earth,
the nightingale sings.
Beneath plum blossoms—
a swallow, one wing broken,
hides dreams in its song.
Hello poets. If I may? My name is Eric.
I have been reading and silently critiquing haiku by some aspiring poets on this site, and while I enjoy their imagination and various ways of expressing their surroundings in the most difficult task of fitting it all into three lines and seventeen syllables, I have noticed that a dependence on definite articles (mainly “the”) to deliver the cutaway line often breaks from the poem’s rhythm and loses its intended effect. Please keep trying to deliver those lines differently without the definite article, and sometimes a splicing comma that also tends to break from a poem’s rhythm. I hope this helps. You may respond if you have questions, and I will answer.
Capital letter or lower case to begin?
Hi Roy
Most often haiku start each line with a lower case letter
Peter
I am so sorry:
I don’t write haikus, ever;
Please stop all this, now!
Though you have zero chance of winning, James, this is a very funny anti-haiku.
Damn, ABB!!! I’d set my sights on winning this one: is it really so bad? I’ll have to stick to terza rima then!
Softly falling snow
Makes my back lawn disappear.
Abracadabra!
Wintry wisps of fog
Skim the surface of the lake
Lifetimes passing by
End of life draws near.
Winter sunset, final breath.
Will there be a spring?
a small kettle pond
left behind by the glacier
blinking in the dawn
—
a raft of otters
tied together in the kelp
we watch holding hands
—
the lone erratic
so much softer than bedrock
a cloud on the ridge
Mercury below
Zero, chimney smoke stripes sky
Heeling sundogs flare.
Near my feet hoppers
Spring out of the grass buzzing
Like a rattlesnake.
Red-capped cranes stroll
Trilling each other like two
Baritone crickets.
Thank you, David. These three stand as your entries for the contest, and I believe the moderator has removed the others.
in dawn’s early light
our boat makes it into shore
now swept out again
astro poetry
a haiku fit between words
the world opens wide
25 years
in this garden together
bright orange poppies
cold water rises
tree roots grasp at sifting soil
the bank collapses
ripening peaches
partially covered by leaves
basking in sunshine
a pretty spring dress
essential equipment for
twirling in the rain
cold water rises
tree roots grasp at shifting soil
the bank collapses
sheets off the clothesline . . .
carrying the scented breeze
inside for a nap
autumn solitude
a dark-roasted chicken rests
in the dutch oven
calling us all home
a flock of birds moves as one
deepening autumn
Frozen winter light
Sparkling like diamond gems
Priceless until spring
A ghastly gale slams
Against a crumbled castle…
Still no surrender.
Sifting ashen soils,
Between the black, wild-fired wood,
Grows a wry green wisp.
Fallen from its grace,
Blossom gathers in the drains—
Flooding closes roads.
midnight sale review:
monkeys take over our zoo
drinking from the loo
cuckoos build haiku
wire – duck tape – crazy glue
jimmy sing da blues
lawsuit – windfall – sue
yellow snow has soaked his shoes
booger in the stew
‘Are you lost?’ He asks
‘No,’ head shakes, moves through the mist
She is very lost
Golden leaf drifts down
I could catch it but instead
Let it fall and rot
Moth caught in a web
I could save it but tread on
To the flower field
only phlox and me –
suddenly an honeybee
buzzes between us
an old Texan died
of hemorrhagic fever –
last October moon
long live the shower!
the koi fish on my left calf
with its open mouth
wind through a cornfield
a sighing across the land
a scarecrow dances
a raging storm of leaves
on a windy afternoon-
an endless cycle
a flowered chalice
offering this spring morning –
a golden tulip
Humid night swelters.
Distant lightning flashes white.
No sound of thunder.
Darkness of storm clouds;
A gust shakes blooming pear trees.
White petals rain down.
Snow blankets the path,
Silent beneath clear starlight.
Crunch! I leave footprints.
My darling Sunny.
Sunshine that warms up my world.
Oh, I love you so.
My baby so sweet.
My sun, so tender, so warm.
So much love to give.
Gentle summer breeze.
Birds sing and vibrant blooms sway.
With each breath you take.
Color mandalas
Rest for your weary being
Enjoy life again
Nature everywhere
In the heart of the colors
Purity unleashed
Mandala is the
Geometric universe
A Buddhist symbol
morning dewdrops dry
as sun sizzles…petals
glisten with my sweat
asphalt on my street
melts in afternoon strong heat
sticks to tires, shoes, feet
water trickles from
our hose after watering
robin stops to drink
sun dog fills the sky
our pet’s let outside to play
with his own shadow
Creeping Bellflower
the slow spread of decaying
yellow aspen leaves
slung like a hammock
the heavy farmyard’s clothesline
kisses the hard ground
on the gloomy night
the moon is hiding its light
crickets sing with pride
a lonesome sparrow
severe rain ruptures her nest
quivering with fear
on the way back home
smells rotten egg in the train
man raises his hand
Through the window, birds
Red apple skins shrivelled old
Unpicked tree, birds eat
heat wobbles off roof
two girls bounce up red balloon
rising rising pop
scent of summer rain
rolling up all the windows
in dad’s jalopy
Spring light in her palms,
yet she sees only the dusk—
a coffin’s gilt edge.
Ash falls like petals—
wildfire splits the old oak’s spine;
the nightingale sings.
Beneath plum blossoms,
a swallow with one wing limp
hides its dreams in song.
Thanks, Jack McAuley, for the haiku you’ve posted. In order for any of them to be considered for recognition in judging, you will need to select the three you want to be competition entries, and withdraw the others in a further comment.
I would like this one to be my official entry and would like to withdraw the other ones.
How do I withdraw the others?
Thanks, Jack, you’ve done what’s necessary. Sorry I didn’t notice for a few days, but you can be sure now that your competition entries are the three above, the first one beginning, “Spring light in her palms.”
Poor Aegisthus. One
job & done. Had it in his
grasp; dude lost the axe.
When the whale leapt
I saw stars twinkle answers
Though the splash was gone
Very vocative. A thoughtful look at something ordinary. Excellent!
Thank you, David R. Solheim, for your haiku. If you wish any of the six to be considered as competition entries, please select no more than three for that purpose, and clearly state that you withdraw the others.
I would like the three haiku I posted on 24 June to continue to be entered in the competition and withdraw the three posted on 27 June. Thank you for the clarifying note.
spring foraging course
they say Dandelion flowers
do not attract bees
a squirrel’s new home
my unused table drawer
first monsoon showers
I follow a dog
to a panoramic view
Snowshoeing at dawn
Hello, I still don’t understand whether haikus should be related to Hiroshige’s print. Could you please clarify this for me?
Hello, Beryl. Your haiku does NOT need to be related to the Hiroshige print. All you need is any 5-7-5 haiku of your own composition during the past twelve months. You may submit three to be considered for the prize. Please use first and last name on the comment where you submit. Thanks!
Thank you Margaret for these clarifications.
in a church ruin
where the roof has given way
snow as a blessing
periwinkle dusk
I loiter in the garden
my parents tended
stumble-step pebbles
a horizon-skimming moon
ripples the neap-tide
garden stone Buddha —
the compassion in his eyes
salty tears in mine
thunder rolls its bass
hot summer days give thier way
to evening rain
dark speck in the sky
red kite soaring on thermals
looking for her lunch
sleet on the window
on his ninetieth birthday
flickering candles
*
din of cicadas
curtains blowing to and fro
in the evening breeze
*
a pregnant woman
holds her belly with her hands
snow on the gutters
Daniela Misso
emu in the Milky Way
always in the same place –
the longest night
bow-tie neatly pinned
his love pre-tied and fastened
all through the season’s
—-
broken hornet’s nest
sting in his words failed to upset
used to deeper pain
—-
monsoon bonanza
through the screen of fogginess
a haiku took shape
Winter has arrived
The lake starts icing over
Intrusive thoughts win
I open the door
Heat envelops me quickly
I like air con more
colourful rainbow
it’s not the same anymore
why is it a flag
The snow sprinkles down
The slipp-ery ice is covered
I fall to the ground
Serene, quiet, night
The moon exposes the dark
“Crack!” What was that sound?
The clouds float away
The bright sun dries the old trees
Disaster awaits
Canadian goose
Honking uncontrollably
My new alarm clock
The lake is frozen
The trees bare and without leaves
Where did the fish go?
The green grass rustles
The river beside gurgles
Tiny rabbits appear
Jesus came to us,
Teaching of rebirth and love.
We crucified him.
Hot night, college ground,
No one here to make a sound.
Cicadas screaming.
They tell us of hope,
Just let the ancient trees rot.
That hope is not mine.
lazy afternoon…
whistling through a blade of grass
on my umpteenth try
Goldfinches gather
On the weeping willow crown
Enchanting their charms.
At sunrise a flock of
Of geese fly into my dreams
Rude drivers wheeling.
Roadside chunk of tread
Shining the ditch like raven’s
Wings ready to fly.
Lilies scent the air
A hidden birdsong echoes
The truth of summer
The plum tree bares fruit
Sweetness and Color unite
In constant prayers
My eighty two years
Sailing still in calm waters
Breathe among the frogs
a pink lotus pond
in solitary beauty
as the sun rises
headless camellia
darkness thunder lightning rain
a samurai wind
the sunflowers smile
through a window of blue skies
a sip of sunshine
fall mountains ablaze
apples hang like bells from trees
a farmer looks up
crescent moon, your squint
tilts in the night sky eking
out eternal light
a finite number
of stars, an impossible
string of pearls to count
Hello again, poets. It’s Eric, still reading your work. And again, if you will allow, I wish to share an observation with you and hopefully provide an additional layer for using your wonderful talents in poetry.
Every haiku that I have read has included a form of “cutaway line” as its ending. Some were successful and some not so much. Perhaps the following will help: Try approaching the “cutaway line” using one of its synonyms, namely the “epiphany,” as your last line to accomplish the same goal.
Thanks for letting me share.
I am new, so please excuse my ignorance. I am not familiar with “cutaway line”. Are you referring to the Kireji?
Met at a party “YOU ARE WHAT YOU EAT!”
neither one wanted to go that’s what all of the books say
Wed 51 years Then I guess I’m “NUTS!”
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
A red garden bench
Is dotted with windfall limes
Colours in Winter
Autumn nights grow cold
While travellers sip their tea —
Red moon, aeroplane.
Red-hot pokers stand
Proud against the horizon —
The winter hills wait.
Tulips push their tips
Past their earthen carapace —
Spring is here to stay.
morning reflection
joining her hands in prayer
a moth rests its wings
Warning sirens blare
Continuing to look down
As birds fly away
Earlier this time
Branches against the window
Calmness with the storm
Ducklings cross the road
Beauty meets fragility
Slippery wet leaves
nicely done, Carl
well lineated, natural,
uncluttered, spare
On my window-sill
a cycladic
figurine.
reveals existential
knowledge with
threads of
connection.
5,000 years ago
as i wash my
dishes.
Pohutukawa
Water like paint in relief
Framed in a Landscape
I remember you
Sunlight formica kitchen
Brown knitted tie, shorts
Ionisation
Elevates mundanity
On a solar wind
Post apocalypse
Amongst devastation ruins
The cat enjoys the sun
Before the sunrise,
the waking world bares itself
with a warming face.
Stars in the cold night;
lights shining across dark tides
from so far away.
A flight of starlings
dances on the swirling winds
like dry autumn leaves.
BREEZE
The breeze passes by
Unnoticed, except by some
Yet is still a voice
LUNAR VIEW
A blue horizon
As seen from the darker side
And still there are tides
AUTUMN THOUGHTS
Leaves fall and settle
All in red and golden brown
Yet in peaceful rest
Learn about the pines
from the pines, and from the spine,
learn about the spine.
On the paved concrete,
the screech of the cicadas
sinks into my head.
In Kyoto too,
cuckoos long for Kyoto,
kyoo-kyoo, and cuckoos.
from winter to spring
velvet snow turns to water
flowers on the hill
old men laughing loud
speak of times long long ago
mind over matter
a river flows free
at the end the ocean waits
I will not forget
Grey skies in July
Garden waterlogged and drab
Then a daffodil.
Melancholy day
Wistfully recollecting
Fragrance of daphne.
Haiku 0 for my Rose (11012024) by Kyle Brogmus
In crunchy leaves jump
surrounded by death we laugh
within the Fall grace
rain’s deafening din.
scorching sun, dry wind, abate.
drip, again it comes.
dark clouds horizon.
ants scavenge, stash, shelter, wait.
pale lilac shrouds land.
sky darkens, wind howls.
volcano spews, earth devours.
sky lightens, wind calms.
The Crunch of the Frost
A Girl is flushed with Cold
The Horse waits for Day
this winter acre
of deep furrows, hare-hurtle
heart-hurtle, faster
clumsy hash of oars
watching riverbank whiskers
halt their dainty dip
scrabbling musty air
a porch mosquito inspects
old Sears catalogues
Dendrobium white
bedside in the filtered light
a cup of ice chips
reasons I stay here…
the geography of blood
in a rabbit’s ears
Ozymandias!
rising from the horse’s dung
freshly sprouted grass
A silent whisper
A voice lost in the deep sea
Deafening silence.
Veridian splendor
In the wilds, turquoise the sea
Face up to the sun
Drizzle, pour and pelt
Winter rain – a bleak outlook
We are warm inside
Paradise, this view
of gentle slopes and hues, I
know not all is lost
Pregnant ewes grazing
Grass shivers, southerly breeze
Spring biding her time
Stones grind underfoot
Driftwood litters onyx sand
Muddy sea claims all
Coriander sprawls
Pluck slender stems, pick a bunch
Gardener’s delight
1. outburst of my pain
lava of such volcano
in an overdose
2. pasive fugitive
blocked in body , free in mind
mixture of beings
3. blurred channel of view
bad signal from the
critics
any dream time stopped
Bogdana Găgeanu
Mess on the clean floor,
a breeze moves crumbs in sunlight-
things I’m not sorry for!
the first day of spring
I also dance to the tune
of the snake charmer
familiar sadness
somewhere I hear the echo
of yesterday’s rain
trying to fathom
what goes on under the sun
drooping sunflowers
open air café . . .
watching lovers hand-in-hand
on Champs-Élysées
rose petals fall down
my sense is to still smell them
knowing there is some
blue sky and white clouds
beauty I see from below
imagine the view up high
my spring has sprung now
I am more than done to go
dance into eternity
Hi, can you please remove my poem? It’s the one with the orange blanket. Thank you.
raging winter wind
turning one frost bitten cheek
and then the other
fast approaching storm
squeezing a thunder shirt
over the dog’s head
first day of the year
twenty twenty six fills up
with appointments
Tiny, crushed sparrow
Her wings still trying to fly
On wind from cruel cars
after the rainstorm
ant armies, in single file,
march into my house
red leaves and yellow
falling on the woodland path
slow me on my way
ripened heads of wheat
nod in the late summer sun
heavy with wisdom
Spring light composing
sonnets on blond fur, my cat
beheads a March hare
My cat dines neatly
on dragonfly al fresco–
earthly Paradise
My young cat riding
on my shoulders through autumn–
cooler than a Muse
A fading gold finch
Ravages the coneflower.
She trusts the outcome.
Quietly peeks out
Little creature of the night
Shy bashful gecko
*****
Perfect crescent moon
Big swing hanging in night sky
Stars dance around it
*****
Top of old pine tree
Mocking bird announces day
Sweet song of new hope
long after she’s gone
the memories mother left
in her cabinet
lending their fragrance
to the wind in a desert
notes of an old flute
coloring the space
between the concrete towers
all the shades of spring
in sweltering heat
the sudden screech of sirens
stilled streets jolt alive
smiling on my walk
a passing stranger asks me
have we met before?
loud gospel singing
coming from the Baptist Church
outside looking in
Flame consumes the trees.
Ashes leave black pocks below,
staining the fresh snow.
the red maple leaf
that you brought home from a walk
I treasure it, still
in everyone’s life
should be a time of kissing
under lilac trees
to the autumn wind:
I am yours, breathe me, turn me
into grass and trees
the gray tabby cat
curls up under the sunlight —
a perfect circle
mom’s summer cleaning
the one time of the year where
my clothes cannot fit
boy helps neighbor plant
rusted, red shovel-neighbor
shows boy a weed’s root
pomp and circumstance
the host hanging a fly strip
on my arrival
one river rising
so many lost in the flow
of what could have been
Dog haiku
I. Dog’s POV
This man gives me food
Same old shirt—rugged, dirty
Richest man I know
II. Man’s POV
A heart that struggles
Felt inside, hidden outward
Surely this paw knows
—
Passion haiku
Plucked a shriveled rose
markings of beauty arose
a withered passion
Fireworks symbols life
Soars, reaches a peak, gives awe
Then slips into hush.
Things I need to do
Piled up incoming deadlines
So I took a nap
A dog is barking
I barked back to make it stop
Two fools at midnight
#2
pausing at the fork
on the horse’s braided mane
three snowflakes linger
hurtful words spoken
slipping from an angry tongue ~
echo eternal
~~~~
luminaries rise
circling a congregation ~
catching falling stars
~~~~
before the leaves turn gold
before the gray frosts our hair ~
we will remember
Hopeless romantics
Sketch initials in warm sand,
Waves wipe the beach clean.
Blossoms drift sideways
a scarecrow dances gently
when no wind passes
Cicadas crackle
a hammock folds with laughter
as sunlight stretches
Footprints fade softly
a mailbox leans in silence
beneath silver hush
snowflakes are soft, yet
the gentlest words cut like blades
and melt in the sun
Snowstorms ravaging
along the west cars sheltered
in snow unmoving
Hurt, Abandoned Fawn
(Haiku)
Hurt, abandoned fawn,
Searching the frozen white wood…
Does not find the dawn.
-Sinclair-
cherry blossom buds
are slowly opening up
a new found buddy
***
sipping orange juice
the tangerine sun slips down
the sea horizon
Hello Judges,
Making a small change in my first haiku. Forgot to put a hyphen in the word “new-found”.
cherry blossom buds
are slowly opening up
a new-found buddy
***
sipping orange juice
the tangerine sun slips down
the sea horizon
bare branches waving
twisting to heavens above
– a lightening bolt strikes
nestling amongst reeds
ducklings finding a way through
the shadows grow tall
some loquat flowers…
steeped in boiling water
exuding fragrance
Embrace the dreamer
Coming back through memory
Bridges of belonging.
Beauty in green light
Calm flows like wind in silence
Wonders drift through stars.
In a perfect city
Twilight dances on still hope
Breathing for a chance.
dusk meditation—
where the light meets the shadow
a pine needle falls
open chrysalis
the butterfly emerges
into present tense
through the bars of grief
uncontained by tomorrow
the laughter of children
beneath the rubble
voices of the not yet dead
already memories
the waiting willow
aglow with guilty secrets
cradles the spent sun
Birds dart like arrows
Shot from tree to tree to tree
Bullets of bird fire
Stop Mum wait keep right
Newborn snail travelling north
My daughters keen eye
Venus rises bright
Curving into the dawn sky
Seen from a pillow
avocado tree
wide and low, heavy with fruit
invites small climbers
red rose petals fall
do I mourn lost youth or love
these child-bearing hips
cloudless night eclipse
stars appear and fade away
hiding in plain sight
an autumn evening
wild geese in the melon sky
my only anthem
though now past midnight
voices of the mountain wind
acorns falling down
through the open door
the beginning of autumn
in the sweet gum tree
tiny seeds set low
in soil furrows full of hope
wait for water’s flow
hands of cherries ripe
dripping balls of red delight
picking time is here
full moon slips below
no curtain call to applaud
just the hand of God
Cut-eared yard cat
Claims poolside swap shop
chaise lounge
Grooms itself regal
Night Heron perches
Watching over GhostTown’s streets
The summer fog lifts
Thanks for your haiku, Michaelyn. Please provide your full surname as the competition instructions request.
The birds sharp whispers
Lift you from your nights journey
Bring you back to me
What could this mountain
Clear, green, and cast in dawn’s light
Have in store this day
Pebbles smoothed by time
live, moving on down. Clatter
as songs in the creeks.
Kahren Morris-Denby
mud squelches through toes
houses swirl through rising flood
tears flow forever
cumulus clouds float
across snowy mountain tops
immortality
raindrop on a wing
sunlight glimmers on puddles
sparrow ablution
life in perspectives
the golden hour flashing
in a mayfly’s eyes
still turning toward
the light beyond the darkness
sunflowers in bloom
the end of summer
a leaf moves through hopscotch squares
at the wind’s nudging
starry night silence –
in this cosmic indulgence
just a cricket’s song
after summer rain
my kiddy explores the sky
from every puddle
lotus flourishes –
the remainder of the day
becomes thinkable
the gentile hostess
prepares tea ceremony
weary travelers
a flock of swallows
emerges from drifting cloud
a happy omen
village revelers
celebrate in spring sunshine
talk of a wedding
The sound of a frog
Jumping into an old pond:
The haiku is born.
The lawn mowers and
The leaf blowers fall silent:
The birds sing again.
Bright clouds at night float
Behind the ash tree: a kiss:
And the dreamer wakes.
Father watches me
The old man watches me close
Sees who I will be
I will be him now
His time is done mine begins
He thinks I will fail
But I prove him wrong
He smiles and nods at me
The family is safe
1. Garden Party
sun stretches itself
over our grand carnival
On withering grass
2. Summer Pests
citronella cream
mosquitoes multiplying…
voracious vampires
3. Idols of Summer
lips crumpling in heat
summer wind scorching sundress
who will seek for rain?
When all creatures die
Those of feather, scale, and fur,
We’ll eat each other
About Losing My Dearest Aunt
A chaotic storm
Rumbling in the distance
Echoing our grief
A funeral shroud
Gathering dewy flowers
Panicked breathing—grief
Moonlit grief scrolling
Digital images dance
Flowering remembrance
Outside my window
the night air carries music,
and I sing along.
What we can not see
does not mean it isn’t real
faith has its own breath.
Have you ever felt—
that ocean of emptiness
surrounding your shores?
Lynn Carole Brown
sliver of silver
a rill that snakes through the drift
I pluck the grey hair
shaped by water
stones emerge from the deep
burned by the sun
the melancholy
of family pictures
first days of winter
the smell of green grass
lingering on my dogs feet
before I must part
bare trees show clear moon
my thought-moon growth gone shines white
inside leaves still grow
fading wildflower
resting in the church doorway
unties her worn boots
early morning mist
rising from the undergrowth
steam-birth of a fawn
frost-bitten blossom —
one by one I pack away
the nursery room
old age wanderlust —
a slug stretches its eyestalks
into summer sun
Amsterdam
Anne Frank Museum
Behind bookshelves, no one talks
Everyone listens.
soft suburban ache
no great shake, wait, slow words fall
happy birthday mum
Sliding in rhythm
Bathtub waves strike Tokyo
Godzilla spanks hard
Snow-melt waterfalls
Fill a crystal lake below
Peace transcending storms
Potter’s toil and tears,
Clay clings to clammy fingers,
Fortune’s wheel spins lives!
***
Pebbled river beds –
Trouts, tourists, shingles, selfies,
A cairn for the dead
***
Dusk rustles through pines
Sylvan symphony unfolds
Tempest in my heart
Hello there stranger
I’ve never seen you before
Good, now we are friends
Small leaves fall softly
A fox emerges from his home
Rusty clouds fading
Bright Sunlight dances
The tide comes over the sand
A seagull dosing
chilly breezes blow
Water now turned into ice
I put on my coat
My Garden blooming
Fruit buds appearing on trees
Air warming the day
Thirsty sun shining
Deep blue cool water shimmers
Boats dancing on lakes
Leaves float gracefully
Branches becoming naked
More seasons ahead
Crisp air cools my face
Ice frozen over a lake
The swoosh of my skates
Morning dew drops down
A leaf falls slowly into my hands
The horn beeps, its time
The heat makes me sweat
I throw my body in the water
My skin begins to cool
Orange leaves fall quietly
An owl come out to hunt
As it turns to night
The bare trees stand tall
The fox gently slinks around
While others sleep
The sun shines brightly
Reflecting off the water
As the children play
Smell of salt water
White sand hot under my feet
A shinning pink shell
The sky is so blue
The sun is so warm up high
Summer is here now
Lambs spring happily
Through the luscious and green fields
Now springtime is here
falling plum blossoms
a Chinese woman’s dou li
catches most of them
Light snow drifts slowly
Cold breaths fill the frosty air
Soft breeze tickles me
Vibrant falling leaves
Floating down from the bare trees
Autumn’s gentle touch
Pink cherry blossoms
Glistening in the sunshine
Mystical landscape
Red leaves hold my hand
As I take the path toward
Far colder places
Mists of cloudy breath
Lips stung by the freezing frost
Eyes blink away cold
Blossoms dance with nymphs
Pollen swirls like magic dust
Enchanted summer
Summer’s thirsty tongues
Clear cold raindrops start to fall
Kissing under leaves
Forked leafy branches
A black widow’s rumbling fades
Folded behind back
Day’s sharp blade of light
Darting voices raised in heat
Lovers’ ties are cut
Blood. Blood everywhere.
On the grass. On the tree barks.
And he sits there. Calm.
Unfazed. Unbothered.
Even he is surprised by this. Pretty sight, at least.
He holds his love close. Comforts her. Reassures her.
For now, she needs this.
What life is Spring?
Small breaths newly awaken
From the sleep of death.
~
Bittersweet is Fall!
Vibrant colors dance in swirls!
Nature slowly dies.
~
Quiet is Winter.
Nature’s death is stark silence.
Hushed, it rests in hope.
cold pink-faced macaques
soak in hot spring’s steamy mist
cooing to their young
a brief glow flickers
winter firefly phantom light
red fox prints snow path
millions of starlings
surging, swinging, swooping
autumn’s fluid flight
she is light years away
but I still smell her fragrance
in wild spring flowers
dipping in Ganges
winter mist hugs equally
both sinners and saints
autumn sea at dusk
dad is no longer with me
to show infinity
dying cherry tree;
copper sundial shows time:
dog days-spent in green
hot winds slow the mind
raining needles of white pine,
grapes firm on the vine
a peach is pulled from
the shading branch—so grasps the
mother’s loving hand
Many thanks, Melissa, for your many haiku! Please, in order to receive the judges’ consideration in the competition, choose three out of these twelve as your entries. Only three per poet are allowed, according to the WHAT instructions above. You may leave the others posted here, but please make a second comment copying the three you consider best, and stating that you withdraw others. Thanks.
I guess I should’ve read that info… sorry about that! Good thing though, as I found a couple typos.
I am submitting these 3 as my entries, and withdrawing the rest:
amaryllis blooms
resembling vibrant feathers
phoenix in disguise
two kittens hunting
within the emerald grass
a mama cat’s tail
dawn arrives astride
a golden hued chariot
sun’s awakening
Haze over green hills,
Northern forests smouldering—
FREE two-day shipping!
On April’s mirror,
Whirligigs dance in the sun
Between her teardrops.
below are my three offerings, the first was inspired
by the painting by Hiroshige shown at the top of this
page:
Humans trudge upwards
Gay water foams, rushing down,
Fog eaten by trees.
Swallow perches high
Seeking swarming insects fly
Mouth open: dinner!
Volcanoes heat the
Ocean deeps warming an earth
Humans do not own.
The gracious oak tree
Standing on carpet of leaves
Making an angel
Warmth is with us now
Daffodils now watching us
Lambs in the field
Snow everywhere
Squirrels scutter round the streets
Christmas trees inside
alone in his thoughts –
the water curls around rocks –
a welcome escape
–
where a river bends
little eddies of water
misplaced fantasy
–
wedding butterfly
why would I need a motive
when I have power
Ernesto Santiago
Agua de Mayo
children splash in the puddles…
sunken paper boats
_
Autumn night busking
the singer’s fedora falls —
a whole rest symbol
_
Phosphorescent stars
each on the ceiling outshines
all of my neck pain
First shy rays of light
The old relentless river
Guides my way to work
Early spring cleaning
Old items packed in boxes
Your memory too
A blanket of stars
The whispering sleepless waves
Bow under the moon
Handfuls of blossoms
Floating on the riverbank
Taking precious time
The sun beaming bright
On the bright green, glistening leaves
It feels like summer
I’m a little fox
Camouflaging in the snow
Im brave as can be
Hot summer days
Ocean breeze cold rush
Memories fulfilled
Snow collapsing
Covering up the ground
Stroking my cat’s ears
Cherry petals fly
Spreading pollen around bees
The smell of grass
Waves crash around
Hitting my brother’s sandcastle
Beach balls everywhere
sunbeams, soft, golden,
fracture midnight’s starry skies,
glowing hope of dawn.
***
impossible things:
the heavy weight of mudbanks,
wildflowers blooming.
***
summer is the sound
of waves whoosh, crashing to shore,
you laughing at me
Cicadas wail fire—
child’s laughter breaks through the storm,
hope drenched in warm rain.
***
Frost veils the cold night,
candle’s trembling breath reaches—
loneliness in light.
a frosty morning
in the song of the blackbird
my husband Martin
blossom in the square
bells ring from the Cathedral
the Godwits return
early morning fog
a man appears from nowhere
then disappears
old cemetery
on loudest days the sound of
dead leaves whispering
squirrel in the park
burying and looking for
my scattering thoughts
post-spring mountain creek
letting my quickening thoughts
meandre freely
Lela Northcross Wakely
Stillness over pond
Phlox gives its last perfume-sigh
No one to notice
Silence and singing?
Young bamboo shelters frogs while
Buddha meditates.
Strawberry moon tryst
Love nips skinny dippers- NO
Watch out for those Carp!
May I please withdraw the last haiku about the “Strawberry moon tryst/” I am concerned it is more a Senryu than an actual Haiku. I will submit another one in its place. Thank you.
Snowbound solitude
Evergreen bough holds…surprise!
One blooming sunrise
The Spring breeze whispers,
Such deep stillness in the trees –
The Creator speaks.
The river flows full,
Two Grebes ritually dance –
Creation’s beauty.
In the high azure,
Courting Buzzards are circling-
Wings touching heaven.
The July sun crowns
Tops of regal tulip trees –
Passing clouds douse fire.
Autumn leaves sweep way
Those windy tokens of love.
I watch alone still.
Poppies and tulips
Peek out from their gray foxholes –
Winter sends them back.
snapdragons explode
kimonos strung on a line–
swallowtail sails on
morning foragers
skunk tracks among strawberries–
my fingers stained pink
quail young traverse road
reach shoulder fast as wildfire–
foot eases off brake
one by one falling
the chestnut leaves making room
for the milky way
Between, stands the gate.
Green vines twine round man’s estate.
Hands reach through to bait.
Strangers’ sleeves brush past.
Autumn leaves fall in the breeze.
Someone leaves too fast.
Blizzard blows around.
Footprints show on snowy ground
Found, heart starts to glow. |
Chilly was the morn
I kissed the lips of the sun
afternoon smoldered
Autumn fog teases,
kisses me in dawn’s shadow,
steals my heart away.
An omen of light
snuggles in the breast of night
before dawn wakes her.
Night swallows the light
Stars whisper secrets untold
Each unique and gold
—
The fire departs
But still a lone flame remains
Bringing hope in pain
—
Sleep slowly dances
On a frosty windowsill
Inviting the night
pregnant pouring rain
music on a metal roof
flowers’ wakeup call
arid waterhole
under an African sky
hungry lioness
sweetly singing birds
on an early Spring morning
funeral chorale
first family trip
walk along a narrow path
ducklings with their mom
one by one falling
the chestnut leaves making way
for the shooting stars
one by one falling
the chestnut leaves making room
for more emptiness
A quiet morning
In the garden, young kitten
Catches butterflies
Walks by the river
Old man with an Irish hound
Geese call for winter
Wind rolls red petals
In the shade of a temple wall
Old robots tell tales
park bench in shadow
a boy sings to a sparrow
braiding sun through leaves
first frost on the stoop
a girl with torn shoelaces
waits for the school bus
spring rain on gravestones
a man rereads the same note
until it blurs ink
Why it hurts this bad
I wish we could just re-start
As strangers in school
——
Close your eyes and dream
A world filled with happiness
And good memories
——
A doubtful mother
Tries having faith in her child
Is that much to ask
Wintergreen upon
A crimson spilled abandon
Reclaiming blossoms
Vermillion shards
Overcast the mountainside
Amongst the Moon’s tears
Fields of petals lie
O’er my tired body now
Never two allowed
Tempest arguments
Dad firm, mum with deluge cheeks
Children’s howling screech.
Fingers trace my spine.
“I’m in Arcadia, too,”
Death whispers, hollow-eyed.
photographing ghosts
as they drift by unnoticed
carefree of life once lived
two doors, but one choice:
above, blissful ignorance;
below, truth and strife.
peeling back the year
every step on the mountain
autumn wind and I
accompanying me
one last time down the mountain
farewell autumn winds
not the autumn wind
that wound me up to the lake
breathless campsite night
Leaves flutter around
In the dewy spring morning
For another day
night sky fill with stars…
a silent predator flies
with prey in talons
at a florist shop
she practices ikebana
–an orchid corsage
a complaining crow
at the top of an ash tree
–rainy afternoon
Metaphor for death:
One soul abandoned in a
Vacant furnished room
Jealous verdigris
thoughts enter my brain and play
in my dead effigy
Synopsis of faith:
I believe in the unseen
and things I can’t feel.
My dad made nectar,
fermented for hummingbirds
to buzz when they fly
An iris opens
Frilly white edges surround
the deep purple base
The gossip of priests
is deliciously naughty,
delectable sin
The establishment
Insists that you refrain from
Showing compassion
Harper, thanks for these haiku! Please let us know which THREE of them you would like as your entries in the competition. That’s easy to do; you can reply here.
Amber orbs aglow
Beneath frostbitten fingers
Playing with fire
Summer sunlight shines
Upon sky blue waves of change
Paradise on earth
Crystal shards conceal
My deepest, darkest secrets
For your eyes only
out before sunrise
the stars keep me company
until their bedtime
worn-down path outlined
by lilies-of-the-valley
poet’s grave marker
birches intertwined
creaking, clinging together
against winter winds
#3
who can remember
when the stars first sang for joy?
the sound still carries
The yellow leaves were
dervishes at my window
till the rain started
Footpaths and tire
tracks obliterated by
parachuting flakes
Snowmelt discloses
a winterkilled fawn still in
geometric spots
parade floats idle
in stopped traffic—clusters of
crab apples pinken
.
crystal interlock
of water’s piscine quills: each
little wave, a leap
.
sun on the surface:
silent Roman candles in
rapid explosion
Here is my submission–
Yellow butterflies
Flitting above green meadows
Like dancing sunshine.
you’re not a body
with a soul, you’re a soul in
a sacred garden
haiku 2
homeless hermit crab
takes shelter in empty shell,
gulls squawk overhead
haiku 3
wistful willow tree
unique forgotten fortress
weeps with gratitude
1) Halfway, then again
she chases what flees the mind,
dust rising in spring.
2) Snow melts as she runs.
Each step closer is farther,
the world holds its breath.
3) All race toward stillness.
He counts motion with a blade—
leaves fall, unmeasured.
july thunderstorm
her funeral procession
finishes faster
watering roses
they slowly lower their heads
unrequited love
the smell of caught fish
a hungry cat creeps closer
mom scares off burglar
Three submissions read separately or together:
To be read shelf.
Infinite years divide books.
Will I finish them?
Words comfort my years
Shelter in safe hard cover
Writer and reader
Find grace in pages.
Solace with pens and journals.
Heartache soothed silently.
these spring showers again
with the softness of blossom
edging our footsteps
the musk of a deer
already belonging back
in the forest’s crisp ochre
rowanberry dusk
where the deepest clouds drift by
with every lost dream
Yellow crab spider
on a beach of greenery–
mayflies the seagulls.
Calm in her stony
Hermitage, the mason bee
Mocks the rowdy swarm.
Dreaming of nine days’
Majesty, the dragonfly
Bides three years his time.
Butterfly’s shadow,
Borne away on morning’s wings,
But so beautiful.
from a leafless limb
the empty swing remembers
the long, hot summer
~Patricia Carragon
after the tempest
the silence of fallen trees
roots severed from hope
~Patricia Carragon
storm clouds overhead
hurricane winds travel north
no relief in sight
~Patricia Carragon
as temperatures soar
slumber shuts the feral’s eyes
solace from the sun
~Patricia Carragon
with eyes half open
the cat curls up for a nap
feet and tail at ease
~Patricia Carragon
Please disregard my earlier comment. I’m submitting these three here:
from a leafless limb
the empty swing remembers
the long, hot summer
~Patricia Carragon
as temperatures soar
slumber shuts the feral’s eyes
solace from the sun
~Patricia Carragon
after the tempest
the silence of fallen trees
roots severed from hope
~Patricia Carragon
Please disregard my earlier comment. I’m submitting these three here:
from a leafless limb
the empty swing remembers
the long, hot summer
~Patricia Carragon
as temperatures soar
slumber shuts the feral’s eyes
solace from the sun
~Patricia Carragon
after the tempest
the silence of fallen trees
roots severed from hope
~Patricia Carragon
The new era starts
No hugs, kisses behind masks,
Six feet difference please!
Empty streets, doors shut,
chaos over empty shelves,
Unease filled the air
Big nation big mess,
Long lines, thin change, days await,
I awe how it ends
COVID-19 yes,
Once it starts it never leave,
Leaving scars for sure
Appreciate your contributions, Meliana, but please choose only THREE haiku as your contest entries. It’s simple to do by telling me which one of your four to leave out. Thanks!
Name: Wania Sajjad
Country: Pakistan
Unpicked Flower
I tore myself open for your hands—
but you walked past like I was dirt.
Still,
I bloomed into the silence
you left behind.
Petal Ghost
You grazed me like wind—
no blood,
but every inch of me
feels haunted.
False Spring
You arrived like a false thaw—
all heat-laced breath and lying light.
I cracked open,
thinking you’d stay
through the storm.
But you were winter
in a stolen spring disguise.
You kissed me with frost,
and I shattered.
reluctant leaves fall
from the old tree showering
the old man walking
old cemetery
abandoned by the living
waits eternity
alone, the young deer
ate the holly tree’s berries
soon dying under its leaves
Small, feathered body
still, on the side of the road,
your death will feed life
firefly dance and burn
jive resolutely down paths!
lead me homeward bound
far out open sea
tender faces stranger now—-
gentle crash of wave
bugs bite tender flesh
red blooms and swells a garden—-
blackbird song soothing
Water is shapeless
So how can it be defined
A frog dreams of air
striped pollinator
rave, roam, romp, be(e) rife, don’t sting
don’t waste what is sweet
O radiant sky
are you wounded or merely
temperamental?
blanket of snow, erase this
paved landscape, then erase yourself
melt into nothing
Apologies, updated version of #2
snow blanket, erase
paved landscape, erase yourself
melt into nothing
Just like Icarus,
And so we fall, endlessly;
Freedom tastes like wind.
The wounds of the sky
Open. Today, tomorrow.
Bloodlike life rains down.
So alienated
In this body; distorted.
Trapped briefly in skin.
Crimson maple sighs,
its branches bare to the dusk—
One flame drifting down
how shallow the shoals . . .
alone, upon reflection
we’re both pelican
midnight snow flurries,
a raindeer fawn’s long lashes
gathering stardust
oak tree canopy–
that old tattered fedora
atop her coffin
Hi, these are my three entries for the haiku competition.
1
Summer never wanes
In the glowing Pearl of the
Indian Ocean
2
The snow falls gently
Mimicking the glow of the
Twinkling stars above
3
Warm summer rain of
Dancing love soon lost in the
Slow fall of autumn
Showers of first rain
The aroma of coffee
Papa’s favourite
Alone on the porch
Forlorn wind heralds deadness
My muse awakens
Summer homecoming
Children play in the river
Childhood memories
at 7.00am
the bees in the lavender
already at work
bank holiday beach
barely room for flesh to tan
between the tattoos
The Earth wears a coat
The snow and ice pack her wounds
She rests safe and warm
Very nice imagery.
The rain sings and sings
The thunder replies, screaming
Never satisfied
Kind mornings, soft nights,
They are whole with your smile
Comfortably happy
Gray fog blankets the
Deep valleys and green forests
Stunning opposites
Leaves lull light’s looming;
shadows shower sundered souls.
Winter wakes what waned.
recess doors open
a gust of schoolyard children
swirling autumn leaves
heard without thinking
understood without saying
a walk through the woods
the bud that seeks the
bloom doesn’t need to search the
garden to find it
Michael Chaplin
As I wash my clothes
My Yiddish momma still sings
Songs of Yahweh’s praise
Death in the river
Souls coffined inside of mud
The LORD my Shepherd
In my green garden
Surrounded by its beauty
I hear sounds of war
atop lilac blooms
butterflies rest in the sun
Jupiter’s faeries
pork chop fat sizzles
ripe millet sway in the breeze
its all gravy now
summers juicy yield
bathed in the kitchens warm light
the frog and I feast
Laugh; stitch in my side
Trap springs in hippocampus
Splayed game on snow— you.
breathing in the soft
smell of night-blooming jasmine
moonlight sonata
the water is still
the mind is racing constant
flow is the challenge
is it possible
to love, to eat, to birth him
my husband’s logic
there is a shadow
light’s brightness is a falsehood
dark blots infiltrate
view of white landscape
evergreens are lacking hue
on a new year’s day
fragrant whispers
gently cascade from branches
carpet of blossoms
ruby red hibiscus
sweet pistil tongue emerges
hummingbird kisses
gossamer storm clouds
weave a cape for Apollo
Helios’ revenge
Golden sky shines
We set off a new journey
Swallow flies back home
Hands held through the storm
Unite in diversity
Winning with purpose
Turning to Nature
Baby bunnies, ducks and goats
Earth holds the best Tails
Each posture holds peace
Matching breath with intentions
Paid ticket to this moment
Title: Wash Away
The waves rise and fall
Cleansing souls who entrust it
Yet my worries stay.
Wrapped in pashmina
Half awake yet half asleep
A hungover dawn
Sparkling fiery eyes
Trapped in a dying embrace
Should have let you go.
A sharp stilleto,
Into my soul your words carve
A crimson ravine.
Spring river unwinds—
two hands, interlaced, drift on.
Nothing holds or halts.
Autumn wind pulls loose—
layers of masks on my face
scatter with the leaves.
Spring rain on still pond—
ripples rise and disappear.
A frog waits beneath.
Dear Society of Classical Poets
Please find below my 3 entries for the 2025 Haiku Competition
Entry 1
Old stone retaining wall—
a line of ants carries off
the morning glory.
Entry 2
The scent of cut grass.
A yellow kite is tangled
in the power lines.
Entry 3
The password reset
asks for my first pet’s name.
I close the laptop.