2014 Haiku Contest Winners—RædLeafPoetry India
The following are my selections
and commentary for the 2014 RaedleafPoetry India haiku
contest, judged in late 2014, with commentary written in January 2015. My judging assignment was to choose sets of poems rather
than individual poems, and to offer brief commentary. Thanks to Linda Ashok for the opportunity to judge this contest. Click to enlarge the newspaper clipping, which is from the New Indian Express in Hyderabad, published 27 January 2015. My congratulations to
each of the winners. First Place: Carl Seguiban, Canadasummer stars—she asks which one’s her mother This is a melancholy invocation of death, with the “she” seeming to be a young girl. The poem is immediate and provides clear seasonal and experiential imagery. a kite soars the length of its string —morphine drip The kite string is compared visually to the morphine tube—both of which can symbolize hope. I imagine someone undergoing treatment in a hospital seeing the kite outside the window, and feeling lifted in a similar way. passing clouds— the shapes we leave on a grass patch Mere shadows become symbols for the entire universe. We leave indents not only on the grass where we might have been lying down to watch the clouds, but we leave impressions on life itself by the “shadows” we cast as well. moonlight trickles down her bosom’s wetness summer solstice Does the balance of the solstice suggest a rightness to the mystery of the bosom’s wetness? paper boat drifting with the tide my numbered days The insignificance of a paper boat is equated to one’s own seemingly insignificant life. The poem seems to project futility, but somehow balances this thought with contentment. Second Place: Tracy Davidson, United Kingdomspring melodymy son playing the strings of his kite The metaphor of the melody finds its expression in the kite strings. It’s rare for overt metaphor to work well in haiku, but I feel it works successfully here because the poem can be read in a non-metaphorical way, too, where the kite string is not being played “musically.” among the pines I answer the call of crickets A pleasing and simple interaction with nature. a newborn lamb bleats his mother nuzzles the silent one A scene of pathos that is easily applicable to human situations as well. moonlit street I am no longer alone with my shadow Is this a poem of fear or safety? The ambiguity gives us something to ponder. Third Place: Andrea Cecon, Italyfirst date—our ice-creams slowly melt Inhibitions and masquerades are surely melting also. smooth pebbles the smell of rain slips away Highly sensory (touch and smell). Not only is the smell disappearing, but surely the pebbles are drying off also. sunny beach and not a stick to throw for my dog One can feel the dog’s energy, and the owner’s disappointment at not being able to play. Fourth Place: Julie Warther, United Statesrainon moss-covered stone his gentle words The internal comparison between gentle words (about what?) finds resonance with the moss softening the rain on the stones. tuning its song to the sound of stars . . . spring peeper The small and large find connection in song. Fifth Place: Marion Clarke, United Kingdomearly shift—construction workers stop to watch the sunrise It must be quite the sunrise! Or perhaps it’s just ordinary, but the workers still appreciate it, and so can we on reading this poem. summer job . . . in a French lavender field everyone humming I can also hear the humming of bees, but what matters is the contentment of good work in a pleasing location. Sixth Place: Patrick Druart, FranceNew Year’s dayhelping my drunk shadow to find its key One can imagine the moonlight on the drunk’s door after a night of New Year revelry. drizzle on the beach— in the painter’s beard a bit of blue sky The drizzle of rain finds an echo in the fleck of paint in the painter’s beard. Perhaps the rain is keeping the painter from his work—not as a fine-art painter, but as painter of walls or houses. Seventh Place: Sandra Simpson, New Zealandfirst rain—each beach pebble with its own lightning The drama of lightning is made tiny and particular by its effect on beach pebbles. Freshly seen. my mother’s pallbearers all tall men— rain just when we need it The rain seems to appear when a funeral is at its saddest. We are left to wonder what this has to do with tall men. Honourable MentionsArchana Kapoor Nagpal, Indiafaded portrait— from one window to another a raincloud Melancholy loneliness pervades this poem. Surely the person in the portrait has died, leaving a loved one behind. Salil Chaturvedi, India sweeping leaves outside the hut the mother leaves some for her little daughter The things parents do to engage their children! Judit Hollos, Hungary a sparrow’s footprints in spilled cherry juice— failed stitchwork The stitchwork has failed because of the distracting sparrow. Something else also caused the spilled juice—what caused that failure? |