RædLeafPoetry India
2014 Haiku Contest Winners

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. The following newspaper clipping from the New Indian Express in Hyderabad, published 27 January 2015. My congratulations to each of the winners.

First Place: Carl Seguiban, Canada


                summer 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 Kingdom


                spring melody

                my 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, Italy


                first 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 States


                rain

                      on 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 Kingdom


                early 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, France


                New Year’s day

                helping 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 Zealand


                first 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 Mentions


Archana Kapoor Nagpal, India


                faded 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?