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Hello! It’s yūgen time! If this is the first time you’ve listened to the podcast it might be an idea to go back and have a listen to a workshop that Stanford M Forrester did in episode 11 of this 4th series, that will give you a great introduction to this episode.
This week I’ll be reading you a few poems that have been published in other journals and magazines, and lots and lots of poems that have been written just for you using yūgen.
As usual I have company this week. I’m joined by two familiar voices, Kristen Lindquist and m shane pruett and one voice that is new to the podcast, although if you’re a regular you will know his poetry, BA France. They very kindly read through all the submissions and have chosen three poems that they would like to nominate for the judges choice.
If you’d like to read their commentaries they will be in the journal which I hope to publish in September. Do make sure you’re on the mailing list so you will get advance notice of the publication date. You can sign up here on the website.
Now before I go on this is a good time to remind you that this month we are writing haiku using place names. If you haven’t already done so please send your place name haiku by email by the 20th of August 2021. If you’re needing inspiration you’ll find a couple of workshops by Richard Tice in episode 13 and 15 of the podcast.
And so let’s hear some poems that were previously published. Poem first, poet second.
highway markers—
the journey measured
by cherry blooms
m shane pruett
2nd Place
The First YŪGEN International Haiku Contest
Miroslava, Iași, Romania
red bus
on the Euston road
a glimpse of her
Bisshie, Blithe Spirit, 31.2
ghost apple
this emptiness
inside
Debbie Strange
Shamrock Haiku Journal 42, 2019
Shortlisted, 2019 Touchstone Awards
Original Haiku written by the Haiku Pea community.
I’d like to welcome Kristen Lindquist back to the podcast. I hope you heard Kristen’s reading in S4E9, if you haven’t then I recommend you do, it’s a piece of work that I really enjoyed recording and it’s had very good feedback so far.
Kristen Lindquist’s nomination for the Judges’ Choice
tower ramparts
a raven lets go
of its voice
Robert Kingston
seamless the starry sky i add my breath
Kala Ramesh
floating
in the sea
I am a star
Susan Young
fresh persimmons
in each seed
a new universe
Marilyn Ward
the unfinished blanket—
Grandma’s empty hands
still knitting
Richard Tice
a rustle
on the lakeshore
rising fog
Daniela Misso
petrichor
steaming from the pavement
summer rain
James Young
birth – death
that little dash
between
Brett Brady
narrow trail
deep into the woods
wild orchids
Bruce H Feingold
deepening fog
the boy in my selfie
fades away
Vandana Parashar
the crystal vase
holds yellow chrysanthemums
… till long after
Neena Singh
thin breeze
the monk’s bowl brims
with nothing
Ravi Kiran
the song sparrow
has become two
spring deepens
Kristen Lindquist
a butterfly
… halfway in
drifts out
Christina Chin
bubbles under the ice–
an old song waiting
to be sung
Pippa Phillips
lost and found —
the raindrop
on the lotus leaf
Amrutha Prabhu
vacant cobwebs
on frosty hedgerows
hunger waits
Kim Russell
cases down
the stranger in line
squeezes my hand
EL Blizzard
cup of oolong I listen to its steam
Roberta Beach Jacobson
flower-filled leaf boats
float down the Ganges
sunset puja
Christa Pandey
Where would the podcast be without its coffee donations…? Much worse off. I’m saving for a new microphone, because you may have noticed that you can hear the plosives with the one I’m currently using. With the help of my donors last month, :
Giddy Nielsen Sweep
Dale Bennett
Ian Speed
Laughing waters
Linda L Ludwig
Carol Judkins
Esther Lim
Natalia Kuznetsova
I am 13% of the way to being able to afford it. Thank you so much.
More thank yous, this time to James Young, Robert Horrobin and Vandana Parashar for editing the submissions for yūgen last month. You are so kind to give up your time to help me and in some cases to pass on a little bit of help and advice to poets who submit. We can’t do that for everyone, there just isn’t time, but if can we do.
Don’t forget James, Robert and this month Ronald K Craig are awaiting your place name submissions, deadline 20th August.
foggy morning
the lost lake returns
with the sun
Srinivas S
family tree
only one branch
in the clouds
Dorothy Burrows
foreclosure
turkey vultures circle
the farm field
Marilyn Ashbaugh
her silence stills me
into contemplation
wind through grasses
John Hawkhead
palm branches raising psalms on the zephyrs
JL Huffman
on my wrist
the broken prayer charm
still spinning
Katherine E Winnick
footprints etched
on the sea of tranquility . . .
rearing stallion
Debbie Strange
all the day’s tales
folded in the night wear
a lone star
Lakshmi Iyer
sandcastle
a red handle
halfway in the sand
Laughing waters
old treehouse . . .
children’s echoes fall
into shadows
Kathleen Tice
sifting through boxes
before the estate sale
I find only leaves
Robert Beveridge
fireflies
what happens between
each flash
Doris Lynch
at the Goddess’ feet
from the heart of the hibiscus
a ladybug
Baisali Chatterjee Dutt
May Crowning
at the mission church
saguaro blooms
Deborah P Kolodji
autumn solitude
I watch her flowers
drift with the tide
Bona M Santos
old square
weathered buildings stooped
by the weight of years
Bruce Bynum
loon call
I imagine the shape
of the banshee’s comb . . .
Marion Clarke
obelisk
echoing past
in stairwell
Richard Bailly
old China mug
still the taste
of new tea
S Radhamani
city park
the crow and the statue
sharing time
Minal Sarosh
m shane pruett’s nomination for the Judges’ Choice
cut roses
in a glass
the shape of the water
Angiola Inglese
Ganga Aarti
a million Suns
sink into darkness
Teji Sethi
dark alley
footsteps, sometimes distant
sometimes near
Joe Sebastian
cool breeze
throwing my mind
over the railing
Alex Fyffe
becoming one
with creation
twins roll downhill
Douglas J Lanzo
winter’s end
she skims the surface
of consciousness
Tracy Davidson
where I was when I got the news
the yellowed paper’s headline
Craig Kittner
Uluru rock art…
thousands of years old voices
telling stories
Rob McKinnon
gathering twilight
into turned back ears
the rutting buck
Richard L Matta
morning
the wetness
under a stone
Robert Witmer
fluttering
towards the red sunset
palm leaves
Richa Sharma
restless heart
a flock of blackbirds
over the lake
Anna Maria Domburg-Sancristoforo
dark clouds
over the elm tree
bald eagle call
Pallavi Sriram
the get-well text
unanswered . . .
wind in the chimes
PH Fischer
bagpipes
drifting across the park
a light rain
Sarah Paris
wave after wave
are they leaving
or returning
Elancharan Gunasekaran
an empty swing –
she takes hold of
a stranger’s hand
Paul Callus
ancient tree
in the roots of sunshine
wild violets
Erin Castaldi
autumn wind
the old man cradles the child
in himself
Eugeniusz Zacharski
dawn break –
the stillness in
the sound of a conch
Cherry A
all that’s left
in the potpourri
scent of summer roses
Melanie Vance
still
the war gong
sounds
Kelley J White
the ceramic pot
she’d thrown at him —
Kintsugi
Linda L Ludwig
canyon shadow
a pebble comes to rest
martin gottlieb cohen
short and sweet
a dying star’s final glow—
footprints in the sand
Wendy Gent
dark alleyway
the dim glow
of a cigarette
Jay Friedenberg
along the path
of a kite’s curving bill
—apple snail
m shane pruett
bamboo flute
a bird
spreads its wings
Lori Becherer
break up –
a hibiscus falls
next to me
Devoshruti Mandal
in his restless eyes the clouds
Mariangela Canzi
sunshower
the asphalt offers
its incense
Hannah Hulbert
middle age blues
my son sounds
like my father
Mona Bedi
day moon
almost a vapor
the liminality of death
Ronald K Craig
broken mirror
gathered in my hand
the pieces of me
Samo Kreutz
brief silence
before leaves flutter
to forest floor
Eve Castle
river moon
fading more
the winter twilight
Hifsa Ashraf
ocean sand
in the bungalow corners
gathering secrets
Steve Ullom
strength of his arm
around my shoulders
the Milky Way
Mimi Ahern
pitch dark
the sound of a sleeping-bag
zipper
David Oates
moth on the wall
hurrying monk in a
straw raincoat
Sherry Grant
dad’s weekend
a butterfly comes to rest
on the child’s shoulder
John S Green
cracked sidewalk
my fate in the lines
of my palms
Jackie Chou
driftwood…
letting life take me
where it will
Angela Terry
the hairdresser
cuts me
a new identity
EL Forrest
still wet rocks
the tide
turns
Pam Joy
through broken stained glass
sun rays light the altar lamp …
quiet presence
Natalia Kuznetsova
estate sale
this solitary pearl
in a velvet box
Carol Judkins
BA France’s nomination for the Judges’ Choice
father’s day –
feeling the hug
I don’t feel
Chris Dean
BA France was a previous winner of the Judge’s choice with this poem:
everything
nourishes what is
already strong
B.A. France, Judges’ Choice, Poetry Pea Journal of haiku and senryu, Found Poetry, Winter 2020
Congratulations to all the poets who have been singled out for a nomination. Now we are going to debate which of these poems will be the judges choice and which the honourable mentions. It’s always really difficult to make this choice, but none of the judging panels have come to blows yet. Wish us luck…
What great judges, thanks Kristen, BA and Shane. If you want to know the final results, and to read the commentaries of our judges, they will be in the Poetry Pea Journal, out in September. Remember, sign up for the mailing list on the website and you will get advance notification of its publication. But you can go to the show notes and read all the poems that were featured on the podcast today.
Next time on the podcast I’m planning to be joined by Mark Gilbert who is coming to chat with me about long haiku. I know we’ve got some examples that make my heart sing, just keep your fingers crossed that the internet fairies are with us and we get everything recorded without problem.
One last reminder that you only have a few days to get your place name haiku to the editing team, deadline 20th August, 2021. AND a plea for help… I’m looking for someone in the community who is available to connect with an Australian / New Zealand time zone to complete another panel of judges. If you think that might be you, please get in touch.
Thanks for coming along and listening today and a big virtual round of applause to all our poets. You are fabulous.
Til next time, keep writing…
I hope I’ve got everything right this time, but if not, please email me, Ciao…
