Sunday, January 22, 2017

Haiku Poets of Northern California, 2016 San Francisco International Competition

The 2016 San Francisco International Competition for Haiku, Senryu and Tanka


dried curls
of gray reindeer moss
crunch softly
underneath our boots . . .
no other sound, but breath


First Place (tie)


Comments by Marilyn Shoemaker Hazelton, Tanka Judge:

...Next, we stand at the delicate edge of winter where air is crisper, and "reindeer moss" whispers beneath our feet. The color of this tundra is muted. Perhaps the light is also. In response to small, mysterious sounds framed by quiet, the breaths of those within the poem startle and deepen. And we have an opportunity to appreciate what we usually take for granted...

Eucalypt, 2016

Short-Listed for the Eucalypt Distinctive Scribblings Awards (from Issue 21, December 2016):


fallen leaves
in uncured cement . . .
we imprint
our own mythology
upon each other's lives


Appraised by Janet Lynn Davis:

I'd like to recognize a few other poets for their tanka that worked their way onto my list of favorites:
...Debbie Strange for her unique, thought-provoking fallen leaves...


Creatrix Poetry and Haiku Journal, 2016

Nomination for the Haiku Foundation Touchstone Individual Award 2016:


fly fishing
a rainbow arcs across
evening


Creatrix Number 33, June 2016

Australian Haiku Society, 2016

Summer Solstice Haiku String, December 21, 2016


a broken shell
her words return
in waves


Cattails, September 2016
Jane Reichhold tribute (1937-2016)

World Haiku Association, December 2016

148th Monthly Haiga Contest



The Falling Star - Haiku Anthology, Wild Plum 2016

skipping stones
the expanding ripples
of our universe


first appeared in Wild Plum, Issue 2:1, Spring & Summer 2016

NeverEnding Story, January 2017

Translated into Chinese by Chen-ou Liu


blue sea glass
a man of war decays
in the sun


Honourable Mention
2015 World Haiku Contest


Chen-ou Liu's comments:

The juxtaposition of blue sea glass ("physically and chemically weathered" glass found on beaches along bodies of salt water) and a man of war "decay[ing]" makes the contrasts visually and emotionally poignant, sparking the reader's reflection on the meaning of (human) life (in a time of turmoil or chaos).


Moonbathing, Issue 15, Fall/Winter 2016

all night long
the wind's elegy
for autumn . . .
in a musty trunk,
unworn baby clothes


Ink Sweat and Tears - The Poetry and Prose Webzine - December 2016

The Twelve Days of Christmas Feature

Eighth Day (December 29, 2016):


Living Above Ground


not allowed
to have bird feeders
or flowers
on the balcony
I am withering

cars racing
down the main drag
on humid nights
squealing tires anathema
to my wintering heart

unfinished
a skyscraper cages
the harvest moon
freedom comes sooner
for some than for others

beneath
my third floor window
six deer
with snow on their backs
the warm blood of stones

Hedgerow Poems, Number 102, January 2017

Resident Artist

These images were featured in my abstract exhibition, "The Poetry of Light". They explore the subtle and flamboyant nuances of light, reflection and refraction. Though the subjects of these photographs are ordinary objects, such as fabric, jewellery and glass, they are transformed into extraordinary dreamscapes by employing the techniques of illusion and diffusion. None of the work has been digitally manipulated in any way.

Note: to view more of the exhibition, please visit https://www.crated.com/Debbie_Strange1/




astral waterfall




evanescent gloaming




helix




lambent heavens




opalescent





veil of grace





Haigaonline, December 2016

Yule Gallery







Frogpond, Vol. 39:3, Autumn 2016

abandoned barn
mother's shadow leans
toward earth

Failed Haiku - A Journal of English Senryu, Vol. 2, Issue 13, January 2017






Daily Haiku, Charlotte Digregorio's Writer's Blog, January 2017

fog weaving
between fence posts
a coyote's song


Honourable Mention
Griffin-Farlow Haiku Award 2015
Pinesong, Volume 52, Awards 2016

Brass Bell, January 2017

ginko walk how extraordinary this ordinary life

Bottle Rockets. Vol. 18, Number 2 (or #36), January 2017

hollyhocks
our parents grow smaller
every year