DAILY HAIGA - July 2024

 

failed haiku A Journal of English Senryu Volume 9, Issue 100

 

Daily Haiga: An Edited Journal of Traditional and Contemporary Haiga / June 2024

 Linda Pilarski, Editor 

 

 

Revue d’arts littéraires ENTREVOUS - No.25, Canada, Juin 2024

 L’HIRONDELLE – HAÏBUN
Une vague d’air saharien a fait sortir bien plus tôt les êtres endormis sous
la couverture de neige. Fraîcheur du ciel, déjà le parfum d’un lilas. Et un
vinyle : Jacques Brel, Ne me quitte pas. Une hirondelle a heurté une vitre.
Elle gît, inerte, sur le rebord de la fenêtre, dans une douce lumière.
oiseau mourant
un papillon dans son bec –
aigle en piqué

LE CHAMP – HAÏBUN
Quelques kilomètres de marche. Me voilà à l’orée d’un champ d’herbes
aromatiques constellé de rares pétales colorés. Aucune abeille, que des
rats déchiquetés par les oiseaux. Contrariée, je lève les yeux au ciel. Un
avion s’approche en répandant une bruine laiteuse.
pesticides –
un enfant dessine
un papillon sur une fleur

Kyoto Haiku Project, Writing on the “Peace” 2024

 

cold eggs in the nest -

so many orphans 

around the oak tree 

 

 

a seed of peace 

carried away by the wind -

 no one plows

Daily Haiga, May 2024

 

Haiga im Focus - Juni 2024

 Curated by Claudia Brefeld

Délice des mots, délices du palais

 LES COORDINATRICES:

 Eléonore Nickolay et Françoise Maurice

 

 

cerises mûres
accrochées aux oreilles -
verger de l'hôpital

 

 

LOTHLORIEN POETRY JOURNAL

 Editor: Strider Marcus Jones 

 Haibun Poems:

The poet

A flock of sheep crosses the orchard, mashing golden overripe plums under their hooves. It smells like grandma's old hearth boiling jams. Ahead of me, a convoy of villagers meanders on the path without horizon, waking the ancestral dust from its numbness. Some people complain about the hard times, some say jokes. They know a lot about all things, and next to nothing about the man they follow on the last road, except that he roamed the hills and wrote poems...            

the leaves no longer fall                          

at the poet's house –

excavators

 

 

                                Shadows

The hand that used to rest on my shoulder, no longer opens the door. No one waters the flowers and dreams anymore...Even this fuliginous cloud spreads its shadow and moves on. How desolate our walnut tree swing is! Now and then only a snail swings, or this fog, which can’t be waltzed away by wind. Some twigs snap under imaginary steps, or maybe not.

I watch obsessively the barren land, letting only a shadow rise. Always the same...

deep mist –

the bitter taste of

aerial roots

 

 

  Fragility

The inclement weather has ruined my plans of mountain hiking. The path turned muddy. Wet birds watch me sliding towards the yellow water while trying to get hold of branches. The nenuphars make place for me. Daylight only flows into the stork's eggs. Perhaps, it’s not by chance that I’am here. I could find out how long it takes for indifference to become concern. People pass by, engrossed in their cell phones.

falling stars –

equally vulnerable

                      the sky and man

Failed Haiku - A Journal of English Senryu Issue 99

 

Haiga im Focus - May 2024

 

Fireflies' Light, Issue 29 , April 2024

 

folk ku 民句 a journal in honour of Master Masaoka Shiki(1867–1902), Issue 3

 

locked doors –

only the gate to my folks,

always open

Haiga im Focus / April 2024

 

Haiku Canada Review - février 2024

 

veille de Noël
on décore un sapin
dans l’abri souterrain

Daily Haiga

 

Ginyu No. 101 - International Haiku Magazine

 Selected by Ban'ya Natsuishi

 

pământ pârjolit -

tot mai plină fântâna

cu șerpi de apă

scorched earth –

more and more water snakes

in the fountain

 

2

robot la ușă –

de după casă vine

iz de Ev Mediu

 

robot at the front door –

in backyard of the house,

a Middle Ages air

 

3

urme de sânge

pe drumeagul spre casă –

lup cu lunetă

 

traces of blood

along the way home –

sniper wolf

4

freamăt de frunze
în curtea azilului –
vin îngeri noi

 
leaves rustling
in the yard of the asylum –
new angels are coming

5

planetă razna –

clepsidra virtuală

nu mai stă dreaptă

 

crazy planet –

the virtual hourglass

no longer upright

 

6

masă festivă –

un copil cântă melc, melc

ieși să te hrănesc

 

festive meal -

a child sings to a snail

come out and be fed

 

7

parc încenușat –

copii nenăscuți

bat din picioare

 

park under ashes –

unborn children stamp

their feet

PRIX ANDRÉ-JACOB-ENTREVOUS 2023, CANADA

 

Cafe Haiku / The magazine of the Cafe Haiku group in Mumbai / The Elements of Earth

 

failed haiku – a journal of English Senryu No. 80

 

PRIX ANDRÉ-JACOB-ENTREVOUS 2023

 

André-Jacob-Entrevous annual competition.

Le prix André-Jacob–Entrevous, 2023, a été décerné à Lavana Kray.

34 candidatures, pour un grand total de 115 créations « mots / image ».

 

Mot d’André Jacob

Société littéraire canadienne

Dans les quatre scènes extérieures qu’elle a photographiées en tons de gris, Lavana Kray invite à voir au-delà de chaque mouvement dans la nature. D’un seul coup d’oeil, l’artiste donne un sens à ce qui échappe aux promeneurs insouciants et peu sensibles à la richesse d’évènements somme toute banals : une brindille qui plie sous le poids de la neige, le reflet d’un échassier qui se nourrit en bord de mer, un oiseau qui se repose sur un garde-fou, le bras d’un nageur qui émerge du ressac d’une vague. Autant d’interrogations sur la puissance évocatrice de ce qui vit à un moment précis.

En référence à l’état des lieux et des saisons évoqués subtilement, le regard de la photographe crée un espace propice aux émotions. Sans artifices, sans bavardages ni explications raisonnées, à elles seules ses images incitent à des  méditations sur la vie, invitent à marcher en silence à côté d’elle pour apprendre à observer et à animer notre vie intérieure avec finesse, sérénité et harmonie.Et il y a plus : en liant très intimement ses images et les mots de sa poésie brève, les interprétations enluminées du présent de chacun peuvent faire ressortir – comme dans un miroir – des expériences et des souvenirs marquants sur « la route de la vie » alors que dans la mémoire, « le sifflement du vent » emporte tout « entre terre et eau ».

En un mot, le présent vit intensément à travers le regard profond de l’artiste, à travers une création qui invite au rêve ou au partage de confidences.

Haiga im focus / Februar 2024

 Curator: Claudia Brefeld

Kyoto Haiku Project, Writing on the “Peace” 2024

 

breaking war news - 

child watching a puddle

turning back to clouds 

 

 refugees -

the breath of a girl melts 

a doll shop window

HAIGA IN FOCUS / JANUAR 2024

 

HAIKU EURO TOP, 100 MOST CREATIVE

 

L’estran, une revue francophone pour partager l’esprit du haïku, No.2, 2024

 

chariot renversé -

on dévale la colline 

pour attraper un melon

 

Kyoto Haiku Project / Writing on the “Peace” 「平和」を詠む

september morning – 

first paths through war ashes

lead to the school 

 

sudden bullet rain -

laughing toddler on all fours

in the bomb shelter

Folk Ku: A Journal in Honour of Master Masoka Shiki (1867-1892), King River Press, Issue 2, November 2023

butterfly in sight -
mom is calling it
by her son’s name

ceasefire day -
cherry blossom rain healing
the wounds of the earth

Contemporary haibun 19.3 / Haiga Gallery

 

HAIGA IN FOCUS 66 2023/12

 

Failed Haiku - A Journal of English Senryu, Volume 8, Number 96, December 2023

 

NeverEnding Story First English-Chinese Bilingual Haiku and Tanka Blog

 Translated by Chen-ou Liu

English Original

Children's Day --

on daddy's chair

his combat helmet

Lavana Kray

Chinese Translation (Traditional)

兒童節 --

Translation result

在爸爸的椅子上面

是他的戰鬥頭盔

Chinese Translation (Simplified)

儿童节 --

在爸爸的椅子上面

是他的战斗头盔

INTERNATIONAL HAIKU MAGAZINE, GINYU No.100 / HAIKU GALLERY

 Selected and commented by Ban'ya Natsuishi.

 

 

un fel de ceață

ce nu se disipează -

cuget confuz

a kind of fog 

that never lifts -

fuzzy intellect

 

2

înapoi la cer

așa cum am venit,

cu mintea goală

back to the sky

empty-minded,

as I came 

3

mâna ei întinsă,

peninsulă uscată -

flori virtuale

her outstretched hand,
drying peninsula -

virtual flowers

4

purtată de vânt

o sămânță de vorbă -

nu ară nimeni

carried by the wind
a seed of talk -
no one plows anymore

5

voal de cenușă

pe crizanteme albe -

bătrân cu foarfecă

veil of ash 

over white chrysanthemums -

old man with scissors

6

inteligență artificială -

se taie stejărișul

pentru o parcare

artificial intelligence -
cutting down oak trees 

for a parking lot

7

mor pădurile -

cruci din plastic

prin cimitire

forest dying out -

plastic crosses
in graveyards

haikuNetra ISSUE 1.3

 

warming up

by your side -

hot chestnuts

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Autumn Moon Haiku Journal 7:1 Autumn/Winter 2023-2024

 

 

no sign of remission--
a woman dancing under snowfall
in the hospital yard

nici un semn de regres--
femeie dansând prin ninsoare
pe alei de spital

THE PLUM TREE TAVERN - HAIBUN

 

Heatwave

City suffocated by heatwaves and face masks. Early in the morning, already on the road to the mountain, we get stuck in a traffic jam that pushed drivers out of their cars, yelling by the roadside. A few cyclists overtake us, some slow-moving sheep pass us by, while a cloud grows crane wings. I close my eyes and turn ambient music with rain sounds on, leaving my thoughts to wander barefoot in a glade of wild mint, birds, butterflies and ozone.

village on fire –
two storks chop up
the sky

Haiga in focus, November 2023

 

Drifting Sands Haibun, Issue 23 September 2023 Edited by Marion Clarke

 Dwindling Away

The more people she surrounded herself with, the more enticing solitude became, and so she left. After years, I’m going to look for her.
Today, my path clings to the river and turns inland to become a sea of sand, with burdock flowers and scarlet dragonflies on its crests. 

Atop an old lighthouse, two storks chop up the sky. While looking for a house, I come across a simple shelter. In a mollusk shell, a trace of ash.

 

inner cold–
to make a fire or a ladder
of the dry tree

LOTHLORIEN POETRY JOURNAL VOLUME 26

 

Five Photo Poems – (words only)                                

Honeycomb – Flash Fiction/Haibun

 

 

air raid -

hot bread breeze

from across the border

 

 

mother’s ground -

the wind wears

a crown of chrysanthemums

 

hay bed -

La vie en rose

on the radio

 

shed snake skin

on the path -

face lifting day

 

WWW blocked -

I walk along the path

of other creatures

 

Honeycomb – Flash Fiction

 

I knock on our house door, but it's not my mother who opens. Seeing my doubt in front of the door, the wind smacks it against the wall. Something that looks like a being, a steamy silhouette wearing a long flowery printed dress swirls around, engulfs me, while its imprints fly all over the room. What a fresh, plum blossom scent! Suddenly, the wind calms down, the clouds wash out, and the ghost is gone, but all these white petals left on the floor are a sign that I'm not the only one coming home now and then...

 

honeycomb –

a butterfly alights

on the sweet knife