HAIKU DIALOGUE – Social Issues – Poverty and Hunger
It’s no secret that the entire world has been divided since the beginning of time, whether that be by race, class, religious beliefs, or even cliques in high school. There’s only one way that we can learn to love unconditionally and that’s through empathy and understanding. Over the month of November, I’d like to take some time to get to know one another by sharing our diverse life experiences on the theme of social issues. Everyone has specific social issues that affect them.
The importance of social awareness in haiku is not to change opinions, but to show the opinion from our own perspectives. What personal experiences have we had to make us passionate about that particular issue?
For the month of November, each poet may send one or two haiku/senryu on the week’s theme via our Contact Form.
There will be a selection process in which I will briefly comment on a few of the selected pieces.
The haiku appear in the order in which we receive them.
My next theme is Climate Change.
In my humble opinion, climate change is one of the most important social issues and it doesn’t get nearly enough attention. If we don’t work together to solve environmental crisis, nothing else we fight for will matter because we won’t have a world to live in. This week, we’ll focus on climate change. How has the environment changed over the course of your life? What ideas do you have to instill positive change? What do you think the world would be like if we don’t change? Although I have provided some suggestions of directions for this theme, I leave this open to interpretation.
The deadline is midnight EST, Saturday November 30, 2019.
Social Issues: Poverty and Hunger
As I have spent the last few days preparing for Thanksgiving with my family, this week’s cull has made me sick to my stomach and a little more money-conscious than normal. I think this topic was something that was truly needed. Although I did choose to comment on a few, each poem speaks for itself.
charity gala —
the optimal temperature
to serve champagneEva Limbach
Charity events are not uncommon and a great way to raise awareness and donate to those who need the help, but how fortunate are those who can be more concerned with the temperature of a luxury, such as champagne versus real-life crisis like poverty and hunger. Of course, there’s nothing wrong with living a little and enjoying life, but the irony in this poem is a feature we have, in a way, become completely immune to.
after the cowboys
buffaloed the Indians
Pine RidgeAutumn Noelle Hall
What a clever piece this is on multiple levels! Pine Ridge is a Native American reservation that happens to be located in the poorest county in the United States. This poem not only shares heartbreaking facts to spread awareness, but is also a reminder of what was taken from Native Americans to keep them in poverty and suffering even hundreds of years after their land was taken from them. Not only is this a poignant poem to share in general, but especially around US Thanksgiving. Of course, there’s also some word play (and I do NOT use “word play” lightly here) on cowboys and Indians, but I think the wording is necessary as we are reminded of the innocence of children and how a mundane game to them has become a topic that adults just avoid talking about. However, these are the things we NEED to be talking about. My sincerest thanks to Autumn for taking on such a difficult topic.
around the world in 80 days
not me
slow slow snailErick Harmon (age 11)
Los Angeles, California, USA
I know this poem doesn’t outright speak of poverty and hunger, but the layers imply otherwise. The book Around the World in Eighty Days is centered around a wealthy man who places half of his fortune on betting that he can travel around the world in eighty days. To me, knowing the book, the more obvious meaning of this poem is that the poet would be too poor to travel like the man in the book, however I think it could be interpreted much deeper than that. Line one could represent a sense of community and how we’re supposed to help each other out, but in lines two and three, there’s the realization that we can’t for one reason or another, even if we want to. This poem, while simply put, is just brilliant and so open to interpretation.
(PO)v(E)r(T)y
Eileen Zhao (age 17)
Los Angeles, California, USA
I’m a sucker for one word poems and double meanings– this one has both! I must say that this is one of the most clever pieces I have read. Ever since I wanted to be an artist of some sort, which has been the better part of twenty-seven years, I have called myself a starving artist, but I think the joke is much more than that at this point. While I was lucky enough to attend college, I have lived out of a suitcase since my freshman year, drifting from dorm to dorm, in and out of my parents, ex boyfriend’s, and other various friends’ and family’s houses. Nearly ten years later and I still cannot afford a place of my own. Many people might say that it’s a life artists choose for themselves, but as someone who cannot work “regular” jobs due to panic attacks, I would have to disagree. Poetry might land you in poverty, but perhaps some of us might rather be poor and happy doing what we love than being more financially stable, but hating our lives daily. I think that most everyone who reads this poem can relate and would agree that it’s nothing less than brilliant.
Here are my other selections for the week:
one-room schoolhouse the hunger the thirst for knowledge
Mark Gilbert
charity
how hard it is
to askDebbie Strange
poor man’s sandwich
a billboard for ham
and bread on his mindAljoša Vuković
homeless camp
Thanksgiving
just another wordStephen Peters
grad school dues
macaroni and cheese
again tonightPris Campbell
she scans the car
hoping for change
offers him her lunchSusan Rogers
alms bowl
snowflakes fall
anywhereSerhiy Shpychenko
Kyiv, UA
whether Buddha or Jesus,
the laughter of crows
in a failing cropAndrew Riutta
in front of the grocery store
a homeless man
asking for changeOlivier Schopfer
Switzerland
A penny
in my empty pockets
Autumn windUn centesimo
nelle mie tasche vuote
Vento d’autunnoDennys Cambarau
group home
fellow tenants beg for
my Chinese takeoutJackie Chou
whirling dervishes
his look as I drop the coin
in his bowlAnitha Varma
i have the best dad
the girl tells the man
who adopted herLjiljana Dobra
Sibenik Croatia
hungry beggar
temple’s donation box
filled to the brimVandana Parashar
the poor queue up
for their pulses ration,
bean counters busyNatalia Kuznetsova
harvest moon –
in the beggar’s hat
just a coinDaniela Misso
lifting an empty cup
to his lips…
someone’s childPat Davis
halloween’s over
a bag person empties
the waste binMarta Chocilowska
cold moon–
children in a refugee camp
share a glass of milkTeiichi Suzuki
landfill leftovers –
the beggar
gives way to crowsavanzi di discarica –
il mendicante
lascia il posto ai corvivincenzo adamo
family huddled
around dumpster –
dinner timeSD Desai
deserted, lonely
she doesn’t know
how to begAju Mukhopadhyay
hand-me-down
for the hole in the shoe
a cardboard insoleCarol Jones
refugee food camp
a child picks breadcrumbs
from the ant holesHifsa Ashraf
Pakistan
reality bites
the hostel residents share
bed bugsjohn hawkhead
spring water
thin soup stretched into
another dayMichele L. Harvey
potholes
our pockets
fill with potatoessimonj
UK
among our exports
mountains of
gratified desiresnancy liddle
windfall
the piece of loaf in garbage
missed by strayVishnu Kapoor
alms
the heart-wrenching gratitude
of a leperIngrid Baluchi
Ohrid, Macedonia
early morning
how many bottles does it take
for one lunch**In Croatia people collect plastic bottles for which they get a compensation of 0,067 €, or 0,075 $ each.
Dubravka Šćukanec
Zagteb, Croatia
gloomy morning
the boy and his dog share
an old piece of breadSlobodan Pupovac
Zagreb, Croatia
thanksgiving volunteers
feeding the homeless
once a yearLaurie Greer
Washington DC
At the bakery
Licking the windows doesn’t
Cost us anythingMargie Gustafson
a regular
the old beggar–
gran gives lunchChristina Chin
just downstream
from the chemical plants
their drinking waterMark Meyer
public garbage pickup –
the dumpster emptied out
by a trampLuisa Santoro
homeless camp
“Jesus Loves You”
in the underpassGarry Eaton
hunger moon
I blow
a long breathGuliz Mutlu
school canteen –
the empty place
of a poor childmensa scolastica –
il posto vuoto
di un bimbo poveroMaria Teresa Piras
Italy
homeless
a man shares his lunch
with pigeonsRich Schilling
Webster Groves, MO
homeless couple
feeding stray dog
feels like homeFranjo Ordanic
sunday splurge
we sprinkle sugar
on wonder breadKath Abela Wilson
Pasadena, California
donating for
my conscience
bus stop billboardAdrian Bouter
the tremble voice
of a destitute child
bitter windAgus Maulana Sunjaya
howling stomach
before and after
wishing starAnthony Rabang
hunger strike –
the midnight noise from
the school pantryAdjei Agyei-Baah
Ghana / New Zealand
a box for monthlies
next to the washing powder
in the food bank boxKeith Beniston
a shivering beggar
emerges
from his boxSteve Tabb
his lunch –
near the school gate
the stray dog awaitsMadhuri Pillai
lined paper
letter to Santa
“A blanket, please.”Margaret Walker
Christmas package
from the cousins
hand-me-down shoesPeggy Hale Bilbro
Huntsville Alabama
Christmas night:
no one sees the empty bowlnotte di Natale:
nessuno vede la ciotola vuotaGiuliana Ravaglia
dumpster diving
the strongest teen
keeps watchJanice Munro
Canada
small hands
to a piece of bread –
broken dreamspiccole mani
verso un pezzo di pane –
sogni spezzatiAngiola Inglese
will the sun rise?
…still little bare feet
in the rubbleElisa Allo
half a pill
until month’s end
week oneRon Scully
full harvest moon
refugee children sharing
a stale loaf of breadcezar ciobîcă
empty dogfood cans
piling up behind
an old man waits in his tentpaul geiger
sebastopol ca
all my tomorrows
an empty plateCharlotte Hrenchuk
skid row soup kitchen
serves five thousand
Thanksgiving dinnerCharles Harmon
the bullied boy
every day the same
stained teeshirtRoberta Beary
County Mayo Ireland
Lori Zajkowski is the Post Manager for Haiku Dialogue. A novice haiku poet, she lives in New York City.
Guest editor Lori A Minor is a feminist, mental health advocate, and body positive activist currently living in Norfolk, Virginia. She is the editor of #FemkuMag. Most recently, Lori gave a presentation on social awareness in haiku at Haiku North America 2019.
Katherine Munro lives in Whitehorse, Yukon Territory, and publishes under the name kjmunro. She is Membership Secretary for Haiku Canada, and her debut poetry collection is contractions (Red Moon Press, 2019).
This Post Has 25 Comments
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I am really appreciating this series of haiku. So many writers are rising to the challenge with superb poems. Kudos to Lori for selecting and collating them. Thanks also for including mine.
Thank you so much, Lori, for choosing to comment on my senryu. I especially appreciate what you had to say about the childish games we play and the way we avoid taking adult responsibility for their outcome. Other ideas behind my poem include the fact that 97% of those on Pine Ridge Reservation live BELOW the Federal Poverty line, and of course the government-sanctioned wholesale and deliberate slaughter of the American Bison in an effort to starve the Plains tribes they sustained. The sole remaining herd of pure-blood Bison in North America reside in Yellowstone National Park; all the rest we encounter are the result of crossbreeding with cattle.
A few more poems that really broke my heart:
*
charity
how hard it is
to ask
*
Debbie Strange
*
—What a sad statement, that our society shames those who ask for help, when it takes such strength and courage to do so. A powerful and elegant capture of this pathetic predicament.
*
harvest moon –
in the beggar’s hat
just a coin
*
Daniela Misso
*
—I can’t help seeing the way the biggest, most beautiful orange moon of the season is reduced to a mere copper coin here. That is how much poverty can damage even our perspective.
*
refugee food camp
a child picks breadcrumbs
from the ant holes
*
Hifsa Ashraf
Pakistan
*
—This image is absolutely devastating. I am imagining the ants boiling up to defend their crumbs from those little fingers. Just astounding the lengths to which hunger can drive us.
*
spring water
thin soup stretched into
another day
*
Michele L. Harvey
*
—“spring water,” which would normally denote cool and refreshing here just conjures inability to escape the cold outdoors. Not only is the soup stretched thin, but the days themselves. I find myself wanting to wander down to the spring with fresh vegetables and herbs to enrich this humble meal.
*
thanksgiving volunteers
feeding the homeless
once a year
*
Laurie Greer
Washington DC
*
—This poem makes me wince at the way we pat ourselves on the back for doing our annual good deeds, as though that temporary charity could make up for the other 364 days of suffering. I lived in D.C. for a couple years and I handed more than one of my packed lunches out my car window to homeless men on my way to work; it wasn’t enough.
*
homeless camp
“Jesus Loves You”
in the underpass
*
Garry Eaton
*
Living near Colorado Springs as I do, this poem hits close to home. We are surrounded on all sides by self-proclaimed Christians who race to pass legislation outlawing the homeless. First they cleared the camps from along Fountain Creek, so as not to upset the tourists. Then they made it illegal to sit on the sidewalk downtown, so as not to upset the locals. All while driving cars covered with Focus on the Family fish stickers and owning mountain vacation homes that stand empty 95% of the time. The combination of Garry’s last two lines really captures the true “spirit” of this “out of sight, out of mind” town: Jesus loves you—in the underpass.
Thanks for all your comments and careful readings. I walk by a group of three or four homeless men on my way to work every day. One of them has been living on the streets around here as long as I can remember–20+ years. The sheer ability to survive is breathtaking–as is the way we let it go on and on.
Hi, Laurie,
*
You know, the last three sentences you wrote about your experience with the homeless would be an excellent lead-in to a haibun or tanka prose. All you need is a haiku, senryu (or tanka):
*
“I walk by a group of three or four homeless men on my way to work every day. One of them has been living on the streets around here as long as I can remember–20+ years. The sheer ability to survive is breathtaking–as is the way we let it go on and on.”
*
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________________
_____________
(________________)
(________________)
*
😀 Autumn
Thank you so much for this, Autumn, and for all your lovely commentaries. Thanks also to Lori, for curating this poignant collection. Wishing everyone a prosperous new year!
A thought-provoking collection. Like several others, I can relate to Kath-Abela’s sugar on wonder bread as a treat in childhood. The poem that struck me most was:
whether Buddha or Jesus
the laughter of crows
in a failing crop
Thank you Lori for another thought-provoking collection. I have been enjoying your inclusion of ‘alternative’ micro poems. I found my mind wandering to this featured one a few times, considering the connections between poetry/haiku and poverty:
.
(PO)v(E)r(T)y
Eileen Zhao (age 17)
Los Angeles, California, USA
.
This haiku by Keith Beniston struck me as it weaves in the hidden suffering of women who cannot afford menstrual supplies:
a box for monthlies
next to the washing powder
in the food bank box
Keith Beniston
Each poem has its own power to tear at our heartstrings. These four really got to me:
charity
how hard it is
to ask
Debbie Strange
thanksgiving volunteers
feeding the homeless
once a year
Laurie Greer
deserted, lonely
she doesn’t know
how to beg
Dubravka Scukanec
early morning
how many bottles does it take
for one lunch
Aju Mukhopadhyay
Sorry if I spelled the foreign names incorrectly!
i THANK THE EDITOR FOR PUBLISHING MY POEM
Hearty Thanks to Pat Davis also for publishing my poem but not the one marked. My poem is almost
deserted, lonely
she doesn’t know
how to beg
+
So sorry for the mistake, Aju!
Thanks so much, Pat. Written from experience, written from the heart. Wishing you a prosperous new year!
A thought provoking collection.
Thanks for such a stimulating dialogue Lori. I agree with you, Eva Limbach’s champagne haiku is ‘right on the money’ as the very appropriate saying goes.
.
Cheers, John
Thank you Lori for prompting us to take on this topic. I’ll mention these three which particularly affected me –
.
thanksgiving volunteers
feeding the homeless
once a year
Laurie Greer
.
a shivering beggar
emerges
from his box
Steve Tabb
.
halloween’s over
a bag person empties
the waste bin
Marta Chocilowska
– I found the description ‘bag person’ caught the way these people are dehumanised by society particularly well.
Thank you very much, Mark for your comment! You have read my intentions perfectly.
Best wishes,
Marta
Lori, thank you for including one of mine, and especially for your incisive comments on your selected poems, always so heart-felt and thoughtful.
.
Thanksgiving, Harvest Festivals, Christmas, etc….these celebrations are laudable, rooted in ancient society’s need for cohesiveness, and, of course countering the depths of wintry darkness with cheer and gratitude. (If we can enjoy these times without creating a mass of waste in food, paper and plastics — so much the better. I give no excuse for being a partial ‘kill-joy’…Needs must, as they say.)
.
We do indeed tend/choose not to remember the reality for millions of others during the rest of the year. Nothing wrong with capitalizing on good times with adverts to remind us, as in Adrian Bouter’s:
.
donating for
my conscience
bus stop billboard
.
and Laurie Greer’s:
.
thanksgiving volunteers
feeding the homeless
once a year
.
The following says it straight, thank you Debbie:
.
charity
how hard it is
to ask
.
Debbie Strange
.
And so did this one, on a different wavelength because of its religious cynicism, and truly saddening because of its implied but understated reality:
.
whether Buddha or Jesus,
the laughter of crows
in a failing crop
Andrew Riutta
Thanks kindly, Ingrid. I appreciate your taking the time to mention my work. This is a deeply personal poem, and it touches me that it resonated with you. Wishing you a prosperous new year!
I participated but mine wasn’t selected this week, on the subject of having to choose food or pharmacy. It is something I see often. Even with insurance the cost of co- pays can be high.
*
sunday splurge
we sprinkle sugar
on wonder bread
.
Kath Abela Wilson
.
This one reminded me of my childhood. For my siblings and I it was Saturday mornings. I didn’t know anyone else did this. And the assonance of each word!
*
the bullied boy
every day the same
stained teeshirt
.
Roberta Beary
.
In re-reads the overlap of the second line stood out to me. Every day his situation is the same. Besides lack of a change of clothing there is obvious lack of parental attention, which is even harder to see the end of. Heartbreaking!
*
The last line – “ once a year” – in Laurie Greer’s haiku expressed how little understanding some have of the daily needs of so many.
thanksgiving volunteers
feeding the homeless
once a year
Thank you for including my entry!
Yes, exactly, Margaret–people who work with the homeless say they get more help than they need on Thanksgiving–it’s all the other days that they really need it. This kind of highly visible gesture has always reminded me of the way a lot of people go to church only on the major holy days and forget about it all otherwise.
thanks so much for noticing the poem
a rich assortment of poverty poems hand-picked by lori a++++
This collection brings home the destitution and poverty from around the world. Well done to all.
.
landfill leftovers—
the beggar
gives way to the crows
.
Vincenzo Adamo
.
The amount of food waste goes to show many buy far too much for our needs, there is plenty for all, it just needs correct distribution.
the beggar along with the mention of crows, I find ambiguous, and can be left for the reader to decide another reading of haves and have-nots.
.
Thank you for adding my verse to the mix, Lori.
Love seeing many great haiku and many friends!
So glad you’re enjoying this, Linda!
Thank you, a thousand times over, Lori, for showcasing the less “pretty” side of short-form poetry. Wishing you a prosperous and creative new year! blessings, Debbie