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HAIKU DIALOGUE – Haiku Prism – Yellow

Haiku Prism – A World in Color

During this dark time we could all use something to brighten up our weeks. I believe that each one of us carries an inner light that can be a source of solace for others. So let’s take that light and channel it through the magic and wonder of haiku to express our world in all its glorious colors. Let’s let haiku be our prism.

Each week I will be providing a new color for you to meditate on and write about. You do not need to name it in your haiku, simply let it be an aspect. You can take this in any direction you like from various flora & fauna, fruits & vegetables, clothing items, celestial bodies, household objects, etc…to various associated moods. Even think in related colors such as pink for red or gold for yellow. I am also happy to accept sub-genres including scifaiku and mythku.

next week’s theme: Blue

Please send up to two unpublished haiku by clicking here: Contact Form, and put Haiku Dialogue in the Subject box. The deadline is midnight Eastern Standard Time, Saturday, April 11, 2020.

Selected haiku will be listed in the order they are received with a few chosen for commentary each week.

Please note that by submitting, you agree that your work may appear in the column – neither acknowledgment nor acceptance emails will be sent. All communication about the poems that are posted in the column can be added as blog comments.

Below is my commentary for Yellow:

What a week! I received the most submissions that I have ever had during my time as a guest editor for Haiku Dialogue. It made for quite a full inbox along with an amazing week of poetry! Keep them coming! I look forward to the continued privilege of reading your colorful haiku as we take this journey together. Thank you also for the many well wishes I received, may all of you stay safe and healthy too.

My selections for this week:

lemon meringue
the frilled edges
of mother’s apron

Bryan Rickert

There is a wonderful gentleness to this nostalgic senryu. It evokes all of the senses for me as I imagine a kitchen scene full of smells and tastes, the touch of those delightful meringue peaks, the sound of a mother who may be humming along as she bakes or converses with her son, and of course the bright sunny yellow of lemon curd. A lovely moment to remember.

upbeat thoughts
cooking the eggs
sunny side up

carol jones

How we could use some upbeat thoughts right now! Finding the joy and brightness in the little things isn’t always easy as many of the big things in our lives have been taken away. However, in this little gem carol does just that and draws us in with her.

sunlight, daffodils…
a sightless girl describes
the color yellow

Michele L. Harvey

I have often wondered how someone without sight would describe color. In this unique take on this week’s prompt we have a picture of that attempt and with it a reminder of the importance of color in our own lives.

more closures —
at least the daffodils
are open today

Mark Meyer

Even as the nature centers and trails are being shut down around me I am still able to walk our neighborhood. Yesterday, I found myself out counting all the houses with (or soon to have) daffodils alongside my daughter. She is just now learning the names of flowers, and at least the joy of that discovery can’t be diminished when all her friends and playgrounds have been closed off to her.

garden stroll
the bees prefer
her yellow blouse

Peggy Hale Bilbro, Alabama

I imagine this scene as one of annoyance for the woman as she is attempting to have a pleasant stroll. Most of us have probably experienced something similar, of a bee joining in our activities when we aren’t so keen on having them there. Crucial as they are I don’t necessarily want them giving me their undivided attention!

meadow buttercups
I grow into
my curves

Deborah P Kolodji, Temple City, California

The rounded edges of a buttercup and their plentiful nature makes a perfect pairing with a woman’s curves. Even though some women find their natural shape to be a source of frustration, I’d like to think that Deborah sees herself for the beauty that she is as every woman is a glory to behold.

stay-at-home
we paint all our walls
sunshine yellow

Kath Abela Wilson, Pasadena, California

Many of us are taking up home projects and new hobbies as we find ourselves stuck indoors. I, too, have had the desire to transform my space into something a bit cheerier and this past week was even considering the color yellow for the living room. Kath Abela and I must be on the same wavelength!

almost asleep..
a quiet voice
“You Are My Sunshine”

Margaret Walker

I very much enjoy the take on this week’s prompt here. The sweetness of this scene brings joy and a lightness to my heart. I not only see the color yellow, but hear it and feel it too.

There were many more I wish I had the space to comment on as this week was quite a treat to discover. I hope you enjoy the rest of the selections as much as I did. Happy reading!

work in progress
beyond the guard rail
yellow gorse

Angiola Inglese

 

golden curl
in my locket
they said it was
god’s will

Roberta Beary, County Mayo Ireland

 

dimpled moon
her night
light

Helen Buckingham

 

dappled sunlight
a goldfinch and I follow
the same trail

Agus Maulana Sunjaya, Tangerang, Indonesia

 

quarantined
the brass Buddha’s eyes
brighter

Jackie Chou, Pico Rivera CA USA

 

the surprise appearance
of Gran’s gambling streak —
duck derby

Marion Clarke

 

isolation –
thinking about petunias
of last year

Maria Teresa Piras

 

telegram
exchanging her yellow ribbon
for black

Christopher Seep

 

his yellow ensemble
always
the narcissus

Nancy Liddle

 

the taste of honey
I prefer…
acacia flowers

Rosa Maria Di Salvatore

 

home quarantine
in my front garden
sunflowers

Louise Hopewell

 

Bucket of water
They flutter again
Daffodils

Vilma Knežević

 

searching
it’s better half…
yellow leaf falls

Lakshmi Iyer

 

bouquet
of yellow chrysanthemums…
the long wedding path

Tsanka Shishkova

 

cascading shadows
in the middle of the stable
swaying lantern

Ivan Gaćina, Zadar, Croatia

 

domestic still-life
the bananas cradle
a fat pear

Kristen Lindquist

 

Van Gogh wheatfield
sighing into
my twenty second scrub

Christina Pecoraro

 

rapeseed fields
my loneliness lights up yellow

campi di colza
s’illumina di giallo la mia solitudine

Angela Giordano, Italy

 

yellow moon-
dissecting our marriage
over dinner

Nisha Raviprasad

 

shutdown
and yet daffodils
flutter in the breeze

Olivier Schopfer, Switzerland

 

lust for life
a patch of marigolds
after the rain

Adrian Bouter

 

adolescence …
those yellow curtains
in my room

adolescenza…
quelle tendine gialle
nella mia stanza

Daniela Misso

 

weary with arguing
we share
bitter lemons

Ann Rawson

 

sunny morning
a faded yellow rose
on her grave

Slobodan Pupovac, Zagreb, Croatia

 

dry grasses . . .
the emptiness
in his eyes

Manoj Sharma, Kathmandu

 

colour the reason for letting go autumn leaves

Rashmi VeSa

 

pale moon
I work from home
till midnight

Hifsa Ashraf

 

sunflowers –
everywhere a scent
of revolution

Luisa Santoro, Italy

 

yellow roses…
we find ourselves in a moment
.older

Rose gialle
Ci si ritrova in un momento
più vecchi

Kyoko Bengala

 

show-and-tell . . .
a lock of golden hair
saved in an envelope

Valentina Ranaldi-Adams, Fairlawn, Ohio, USA

 

lemon pie-
the brightness of my nephew’s eyes

Julia Guzmán

 

picking my favorite
color early
daffodils

Laurie Greer

 

spring festival…
the yellow pollen
on her nose ring

R.Suresh Babu, India

 

suddenly sunlit
the spring colors
from her open wardrobe

Clifford Rames, Freehold, NJ

 

deserted road
a lone traveler’s pause
at an yellow light

Srinivasa Rao Sambangi

 

autumn noon…
my mood too
mellow yellow

Madhuri Pillai

 

lemon pickle
the sour taste of your
lie lingers

Vandana Parashar

 

mimosa pom-poms
the busyness
of pollen dusted bees

Ingrid Baluchi, Macedonia

 

rising sun . . .
the only colour
a corn seller knows

Kinshuk Gupta

 

soft yellow skins
of sandhill plums
her skirt becomes a basket

Randy Brooks

 

leaden sky
the yellow song
of spring peepers

Marilyn Ashbaugh

 

daffodils
the heat of spring
rising

shane Pruett

 

spring straw
the waxing moon
in a blue blue sky

Janice Munro

 

lost summer
a kiss tasting
of yellow melon

Anna Maria Domburg-Sancristoforo

 

yellow stars
hand-stitched
into her memory

Roberta Beach Jacobson, USA

 

virginal no longer
mother’s wedding dress
nine decades later

Edna Beers

 

solar plexus
wisdom in the depth
of every flower

Xenia Tran

 

even though snow daffodils

Charles Harmon, Lost Angeles

 

longing for a visit
a mass of jonquils
by the hospital wall

Astrid Egger

 

my aunt’s celebration of life. . .
sheltered in place
sending e-flowers

Don Miller

 

so many years on
and still puzzled
Yellow Submarine

Natalia Kuznetsova

 

walking on sunshine water striders

Rich Schilling, Webster Groves, MO

 

maize crayon
never the color
of corn

Nancy Brady, Huron, Ohio

 

gone
where the sun went
daffodils

Ann K. Schwader, Westminster, CO

 

around the corner
a riot –
forsythia

Charlotte Hrenchuk

 

long blond curls
until first grade
my golden age

Greer Woodward

 

yellow to gold
ribbons won making beauty
from my mistakes

wendy c. bialek, az, usa

 

flitting
among the pine branches
a spot of yellow

Susan Rogers, Los Angeles, CA

Guest Editor Tia Haynes resides in Lakewood, Ohio, near her beloved Lake Erie. She was featured in New Resonance 11: Emerging Voices in English-Language Haiku and has appeared in journals and anthologies worldwide. Much of her inspiration comes from the landscape and people of the American Midwest as well as life with her two small children. Her chapbook, leftover ribbon, (Velvet Dusk Publishing) is available on Amazon. Follow her on Twitter: @adalia_haiku

Lori Zajkowski is the Post Manager for Haiku Dialogue. A novice haiku poet, she lives in New York City.

Managing Editor 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 53 Comments

  1. Coming late to this discussion, so I don’t want to duplicate what’s been said, but I do want to thank Tia for all the work, the comments, and the selection process; these columns have been full of beautiful writing.
    Being left out of a column is always painful–as any sort of exclusion is–but after the initial disappointment, I’ve (almost) always been able to focus on the fine points of the work that did make the cut and to resolve to do better next time.
    We should also bear in mind that, unlike submissions to journals, poems for this weekly blog are written under severe time constraints and on topics that may or may not be of moment to the poet. These factors can be liberating, but they can also be constraining; more than once I’ve just frozen up and been unable to say anything. That’s part of the learning process, too. Some topics may just not “speak” to us, or it may take more than a few days to figure out how to approach something.
    The main thing is to try, and to keep writing. That exclusion (rather than “rejection”) hurts only shows how important it is to us to get the poem right. And in the end, it’s about the poem.
    Thanks to everyone for sharing thoughts, feelings, and haiku. And stay well!

  2. cascading shadows
    in the middle of the stable
    swaying lantern
    .
    Ivan Gaćina, Zadar, Croatia
    .
    .
    domestic still-life
    the bananas cradle
    a fat pear
    .
    Kristen Lindquist

    Wonderful picture haiku. They’ve lodged in my mind along with “sunny side up” – and many others.
    What a glimpse into other people’s lives and imaginations!

    1. Thank you, Tia, for publishing my poem and for the great one
      work behind this column. I really would not want to be in the shoes of those on the other side, that is, at the desk to read, evaluate. I also understand who is hopefully waiting, the sense of exclusion, of disappointment.

      The works that I liked:

      yellow to gold
      ribbons won making beauty
      from my mistakes
      .
      wendy c. Bialek,

      yellow stars
      stitched
      by hand in his memory

      Roberta Beach Jacobson, United States

      adolescence…
      those yellow curtains
      in my room

      bouquet
      of yellow chrysanthemums …
      the long journey of marriage

      Tsanka Shishkova

      stay home
      we paint all our walls of
      yellow sun

      Kath Abela Wilson, Pasadena, California

      Happy Easter to everyone

  3. Thank you, Tia for another great column, congratulation to featured poets. Awesome column indeed.

  4. Thank you, Tia for presenting us with your selection of poems, grouping them by theme, your commentary. Thank you also to Deb Kolodji, for her encouraging words to keep us writing.

  5. Good morning All,

    In the months of meditating your poems, as my pursuit for the sum of the words, I sought to gain understanding, to re-live the sense of the whole, perhaps as you intended. This was vain of me. My view has, in its season, turned to the quality of simplicity. How your color, assigned for our response, changes yellow but makes it in such variegation, recognizable.

    Kudos to our editors and gratitude to all who wrote the color: yellow.

    Shout-out to:
    .
    .
    cascading shadows
    in the middle of the stable
    swaying lantern
    .
    Ivan Gaćina, Zadar, Croatia
    .
    .
    domestic still-life
    the bananas cradle
    a fat pear
    .
    Kristen Lindquist
    .
    .
    searching
    it’s better half…
    yellow leaf falls
    .
    Lakshmi Iyer
    .
    .
    walking on sunshine water striders
    .
    Rich Schilling, Webster Groves, MO
    .
    .
    Lemuel

  6. Some thoughts as I read the wonderful offerings this week. (Thanks Tia!)
    .
    upbeat thoughts
    cooking the eggs
    sunny side up
    .
    carol jones
    .
    I love the juxtaposition of upbeat thoughts with sunny side up eggs.
    .
    golden curl
    in my locket
    they said it was
    god’s will
    .
    Roberta Beary, County Mayo Ireland
    .
    This is heart-wrenching, especially in this age of loss for so many.
    .
    even though snow daffodils
    .
    Charles Harmon, Lost Angeles
    .
    There were a lot of great daffodil ones this week, but I’m drawn to this one because of the unexpected local snow in our mountains here.
    .
    my aunt’s celebration of life. . .
    sheltered in place
    sending e-flowers
    .
    Don Miller
    .
    Having known of people who have had to miss funerals of loved ones due to the sheltering in place we are all practicing, this really hits home.
    .
    around the corner
    a riot –
    forsythia
    .
    Charlotte Hrenchuk
    .
    This haiku and Louise’s sunflowers…
    .
    home quarantine
    in my front garden
    sunflowers
    .
    Louise Hopewell
    .
    are a wonderful reflection of the reality of our time. The flowers can spread and riot in profusion without practicing social distancing. I love both of these.
    .
    Debbie

  7. Una bellissima selezione, Tia con così tante sfumature di giallo – grazie per aver incluso anche il mio contributo.

  8. Thank you, Carol. My brother used to buy bitter lemons when he was a young teenager.
    Fortunately, we didn’t argue much. He was eight years older than me so had other concerns.
    And thank you, Tia, for including my haiku.

  9. Wendy, thanks for your commentary on my haiku. You found SO much more in it than I ever I notended. While I do find frustration with getting just the right combination of colors when I do collages and other art forms, I really appreciate that your remarks an what we are all going through is truly frustrating.
    .
    To be honest, I always loved the color maize in the box of 64 Crayola crayons. It was my favorite crayon to use, but I remember learning that maize was another name for corn. Yet, the color of corn did not mesh with my reality of the crayon color. It’s only in hindsight that I understand that native corn was more maize colored.
    .
    I may have been one of the few people to love maize as a crayon; it was replaced by a new color in the box because of its lack of popularity. Alas…
    As an aside, I think that naming colors would be an awesome job to have.
    .
    Thanks to Tia for choosing one of mine. I can’t imagine going through so many and culling down them done. Every time I participate in a Kukai, I am overwhelmed with the choices. There are so many excellent haiku this week, and there are so many shades of yellow here. From pale to dark, from yellow to gold (Wendy’s), to the color of spring in daffodils and forsythia, and so much more, well done all. I need to read them thoroughly…I space them out to catch nuances.
    .
    Debbie, I understand your frustration about acceptance. I often find my haiku/senryu accepted in Failed Haiku after being rejected elsewhere, and I have stopped submitting to certain journals because I realize I don’t have what they want or meet their criteria. I am rejected more often than not, and I wonder about others that are accepted, but I perservere and sometimes the ones that were rejected find homes elsewhere. Finally, I just keep writing. So, too, will you, and we will be reading you haiku in this column and everywhere else.

    1. Nancy, besides your words to Wendy and Tia, I appreciate what you’ve said to Debbie. I hope they’ve given her the solace they’ve given me, and the encouragement. Using your own experience makes them believable and sturdy. Thanks so much!

      1. Thanks Christina. That’s kind of you to say. I have struggled with the form, and I share that frustration. I may never understand it.
        .
        Wishing all a safe and healthy weekend. May yellow flowers and the sun brighten your weekend.

  10. I was delighted to see my poem as one of those selected for commentary. Thank you Tia!
    .
    Just to add my two cents to the conversation about being selected or not: I agree that I prefer to submit my work to an editor, knowing that each editor brings their own vision of expectations to a theme; I often submit a poem that I think is brilliant but in retrospect is not so wonderful, and appreciate it not prancing around in front of everyone; even when I submit a truly brilliant poem 😉 there may be more brilliant ones or ones that adhere closer to the theme that the editor prefers. I think the message is to not take it personally but to use it as part of the learning process. And finally, I truly appreciate the hours of work Tia invests in this process.
    .
    Here are the poems that particularly resonated with me this week:
    .
    meadow buttercups
    I grow into
    my curves
    ———Deborah P Kolodji, Temple City, California
    .
    This speaks to me as I’ve passed through several different periods of adjusting to more or less curves. I always am amazed that the body in the mirror isn’t the perfect one in my mind!
    .
    almost asleep..
    a quiet voice
    “You Are My Sunshine”
    ——Margaret Walker
    .
    What a lovely memory! This is the song I sang over and over to lull my children and my grandchildren to sleep. It is such a simple song that holds so much love.
    .
    golden curl
    in my locket
    they said it was
    god’s will
    —-Roberta Beary, County Mayo Ireland
    .
    Such pain in so few words! This must have been a difficult one to write. Thank you for sharing it with us.
    .
    telegram
    exchanging her yellow ribbon
    for black
    —-Christopher Seep
    .
    Another difficult one to read as wars rage on around the world. If only there were none.
    .
    around the corner
    a riot –
    forsythia
    ——Charlotte Hrenchuk
    .
    I love the way forsythia just seems to burst into the spring air. The image of a riot of yellow is wonderful!
    .
    walking on sunshine water striders
    ——Rich Schilling, Webster Groves, MO
    .
    This small poem catches perfectly the reflection of sky and light on water.
    .
    maize crayon
    never the color
    of corn
    —-Nancy Brady, Huron, Ohio
    .
    As an artist I feel the frustration here! But also the frustration of any creator attempting to express the reality of our world in an artificial form,whether in writing or in color or dance or music. But we poets must keep on trying!
    .
    I loved the selection this week and could comment on every one of them, but will stop now. Thanks Tia for a great selection.

    1. Thanks, Peggy, for your kind remarks about my haiku. Your remarks are spot on. Finding the right combination of colors can be frustrating. I also have loved that crayon color (see previous comment), but it is now retired.
      .

      So many wonderful haiku this week. Christopher Seep’s was heartbreaking. yellow ribbon changed to black.

    2. Peggy –

      Thank you for your comments on my “almost asleep”. My mother sang this to us as babies and children.

      More importantly, I wanted to thank you for your comments about being selected or not. It is a learning process. I get so much from reading those that are selected and the comments by the editor and participants. The participant comments often show so many different views and I thank everyone who takes the time and energy to comment.
      I don’t always have the time – but do try to comment when I can.

  11. So many incredible ways to look at yellow. I need more time. At least 2/3 of these really resonate and I want to go back and savor each again. Well done everyone and please keep up the great work. It very much helps me to gain new perspective on common objects and experience. Stay healthy and keep sharing! It’s good for the soul.

  12. Loved this, Natalia

    so many years on
    and still puzzled
    Yellow Submarine

    Natalia Kuznetsova

    Listening to the music in my head still triggers a smile but the lyrics still mystify. Just found this on youtube:

    “Paul McCartney… explained….’It’s a fun song, a children’s song.’ The usage of simple words, he thought, would make it easy for kids to understand and sing it.”

    We’re lucky we still have time to learn to think like kids. Enjoy!

    Paul McCartney mostly wrote this song. He explained in 1966, “‘Yellow Submarine’ is very simple but very different.It’s a fun song, a children’s song.” The usage of simple words, he thought, would make it easy for kids to understand and sing it.

  13. Dear Haiku Friends,

    I can relate to the frustration of getting poems rejected. I admit I have taken it personally and written many passive-aggressive posts about it on social media. I have talked about how bad my poetry is and giving up on writing. I have also talked about how unfair certain editors are. But at the end of the day, when I look back at the poems that were rejected, I can be more objective and understand the editors’ decisions. Not all of my poems have been rejected. Some of them work; some don’t. That’s just part of the creative process. Knowing why something doesn’t work helps me become a better writer. For me it is more exciting to see the “good” ones in print than it is disappointing to get turned down.

    With that said, I agree with Debrah that there should be a selection process for HD. It makes it more challenging, and thus, more interesting.

  14. rising sun . . .
    the only colour
    a corn seller knows

    Kinshuk Gupta

    Kinshuk, this speaks volumes to me…..besides being the terrific poem it is on face value….and coneying the colour yellow so well…..having the corn coloured mirrored with the sun colour…..i see so many ways the message speaks of the corruption and distortion of values….politics is playing….now with lives during this pandemic.
    the SELECTIVE VISION of some.

  15. Another great selection – all the different takes on “yellow”. I loved every poem that was commented on, and also the following ones that grabbed my attention:

    lemon pie
    the brightness of my nephew’s eyes
    By J. Guzman Lemon pie was one of my favorites, too. It always made my eyes smile.

    spring festival…
    the yellow pollen
    on her nose ring
    By R. Suresh Such a strong visual image – I can visualize her nose so close to the flowers and not realizing what had happened until someone pointed it out!

    Great work, everyone. Thanks to Tia, Lori, and kj for doing all the work to publish this Column.

  16. mimosa pom-poms
    the busyness
    of pollen dusted bees

    Ingrid Baluchi, Macedonia
    .
    love this….ingrid….perfect poetry for my ears and eyes!

    *
    maize crayon
    never the color
    of corn

    Nancy Brady, Huron, Ohio

    i hear an artist’s frustration…when even the colour tools are not adequate to express the true feelings…..things not able to measure up…..maybe trying to smile….but not really able to have the heart to…just now. so well done…nancy.

    1. some more on nancy’s maize poem:

      the longing to be with the real thing…and not just writing about it, or painting it, or seeing it through a window or an iphone screen or skype.

    2. Thank you, Wendy…I had this vision of furry bottoms.
      .
      I gather mimosa is not everyone’s favourite, but the scent had me hooked as a youngster in Australia.
      .
      But how about your poem?
      .
      yellow to gold
      ribbons won making beauty
      from my mistakes
      .
      wendy c. bialek, az, usa.
      .
      It reminded me that as a new pupil joining late in the term, I was automatically given the least popular sports colour – yellow, which, by the time I’d made a bit of a mark, was considered ‘gold’, only because my long legs got me over the ultimate high-jump.

      1. ingrid,
        .
        those yellow pom poms, which i’ve only seen in pictures… are like being surrounded by cheer leaders. what is the scent like?
        .
        we have several mimosa trees here on the property…they are the fragile blossoms of a different colour….that attract our hummingbirds.
        .
        thank you for finding a memory from my poem and sharing it here…you picked up on the progression, and striving….for sure!
        .
        this poem comes from several experiences i have had with success and recognition for my photography and other creative arts.
        i have won many ribbons on photos that were “mistakes”….but because i found them to be unusually beautiful…even though they may not have come out the way i planned them to….i still submitted into contest. and thus, my philosophy in the arts…..is……”art is recognition of art”.
        it is more than simply making lemonade….from….lemons…..it is more like a profound zen…..aha…..state…..that makes me change my definition to…..that art is in everything, if i just allow myself to see it.
        .
        so how does this apply to writing and reading of haiku?

        1. Cheer leaders, exactly!
          Strongest memories often come from scent. I remember the mimosa tree (acacia dealbata) in our garden as a dry powdery, very sweet scent, always full of bees, and we kids used to dare each other to stick our noses in it . The bees didn’t seem to mind, shifting off to another pom-pom nearby. I see Yves Rocher, and other cosmetic companies, developed perfumes such as “Pur Desir de Mimosa”.

  17. Many shades of yellow here to brighten up these days; thank you poets for these, and thanks, Tia, for including mine.
    .
    I was moved by the following with its sense of melancholy and tenderness, veering away at a tangent from all the positivism we normally expect of Spring. Roberta’s poems so often bring me up short in this way, and this one no less:
    .
    golden curl
    in my locket
    they said it was
    god’s will
    .
    Roberta Beary, County Mayo Ireland
    .
    I wonder what the color blue will conjure up?

  18. A lovely read. Another week mine wasn’t selected, which I admit was a bit of a surprise. I understand that there was a large number contributed, but it is getting harder to maintain motivation here these past weeks. I have at least tried to provide positive commentary on those weeks I’m not selected. Trying not to be a whiner, as I appreciate what the THF and the guest editors provide.
    *
    I would like to suggest poet’s choice for the remainder of the color series. I would love to read what those not selected each week are writing, during these difficult times.

    1. Hi Debbie,
      I’m so glad to hear that you enjoyed the ‘Poet’s Choice’ feature! We won’t be changing to that for ‘Haiku Prism’ (it is the guest editor’s decision for these things), but you can be sure it will make an appearance in 2020 at some point…
      keep writing! kj

      1. Thank you Kathy, for jumping in right away. And for the commentary by Wendy, Kanjini, Deborah, Ingrid, Robert, Jackie, and Nancy, so far. I have been part of the community here for only a year, starting with Craig as guest editor, thank you Craig for commenting on my first poem, and it has meant more than I can explain publicly. New to writing haiku but not short form poetry, I have put in the effort and have been pleased with many of my poems posted here, and have appreciated any feedback. Perhaps I’m just in a slump here these past weeks. It has been a stressful time out in the world.
        *
        Several comments compared the experience here to submitting to journals. I don’t quite experience it that way. Even with the guest editorships I see it more interactive and “fun”, while still learning. I’ve been accepted and rejected by many of the journals, and even got a HM in a contest, but our weekly meetings here are something to look forward to. I’ve often wished there was a way to reach out to a poet when I’ve especially enjoyed their journal entry. So many good ones go without comment, except being published of course which is affirming.
        *
        I wasn’t proposing Poet’s Choice each week. It is hard to read those 150 entries, and it seems there was less comments from the group, but I enjoyed it anyway, once in awhile.
        *
        One last comment since we often say a poem wasn’t “good enough” for acceptance. I agree, many are very lacking in haiku basics. But many others are just not what the editor was looking for, or they don’t feel a connection to the poet, and have even won awards elsewhere. We are poets in the end. And like all forms of art, what we find moving is not everyone’s ” cup of tea.”
        *
        Thank you everyone for the lively discussion!

    2. debbie,
      i know how it feels….i’ve been there.
      during this time….when feeingl so deprived of experiences that are cherish….and add anxiety, as well, because something is happening that there is nothing to have control over…..the need to search to control something….so as not to feel totally powerless. looking to times past…when things felt good….and things felt safe, secure, and predictable….and wanting to reproduce them.
      .
      PLEASE take all these feelings debbie….and use them to create the best poetry.
      .
      and in the meanwhile, i would like to read your submissions…so please post them hear and i promise, i will comment on them.

      1. sorry….that got messed up when i was editing….it should read:
        .when feeling so deprived of experiences that are cherished….

    3. I hear you, Debbie. There are beautiful verses here, some I resonate with more . The beauty of haiku. As Wendy suggests, you might like to share yours? Here’s one of mine which was submitted for ‘yellow’.

      *
      kōwhai in full bloom
      to the delight of humans
      and bees
      *
      kōwhai is a small-leaved native tree in NZ, noted for their hanging clusters of large yellow flowers in early spring. they fill me with so much joy when they bloom

      Be well 🙂

    4. As poets, I think each of us here have had haiku not selected that we absolutely loved when we wrote it. I am often surprised when an editor takes my least favorite in a batch sent, or sometimes I read a journal and wonder why a particular haiku was selected when I know all of mine were not. What helps me is that once my haiku are “born” I just leave it to the universe to decide if they’ll take root somewhere and try not to take it personally when they are not. I know that’s hard, but I think it helps us all grow as poets.

      Personally, I didn’t like “Poets Choice” because I actually would prefer to not have my haiku selected than to know that everything I send somewhere will be accepted. I like to see what the editor selects. I find that more useful that just putting everything I write out there. I enjoy having the editorial selection because sometimes a particular haiku may be too personal for me that I don’t edit it enough to make it work better for another reader. Sometimes I’ve written a poem that keeps getting rejected and then someone mentions something about it that I hadn’t noticed, and it turns the lightbulb on in my head and I rewrite it. Anyway, that’s just my take.

      I am sure your haiku will be accepted in the future. Just keep writing and please don’t be discouraged. And, yes, as Wendy says, feel free to post it here in the comments so we can see it.

      1. Your take is spot on, Deborah, and I’m sure most of us have had the same experiences. (How I appreciate this sort of honesty!)
        .
        I wonder how you feel about kukai, then? Putting your best effort out anonymously for everyone to see is an interesting experience. One gets to see, from resulting votes, what others appreciate, or otherwise. I rarely receive more than a couple of favorable points for any kukai competition submission, but take this as a challenge and attempt to try harder next time.

        1. Kukai is a great way to get a sense of resonance, how your haiku resonates with others. I’ve noticed that sometimes its not the “best poem” (however you define that) which wins a kukai but the one that people can relate to, that pulls the heart strings, etc. So, I find it fun to see which poems touch people and which ones either don’t, or don’t as much (since each person can only vote on a few and sometimes it’s hard to choose).

          Sometimes there are two that are similar (especially if it’s a kukai written at a specific place together, like a Seabeck conference, for example) and one just works better.

          I also enjoy anonymous haiku workshops and we tend to have them at our monthly haiku group meetings. In those cases, the poems stand alone and we all try to look at them that way. Sometimes it is hard to not defend something that everyone just isn’t getting, but part of the exercise is to not say anything, let it remain anonymous, and then try to figure out why no one in the workshop got it.

          I think both of these things – kukai and anonymous haiku workshops – can make us better writers.

          And, as Debbie mentions – just because a haiku isn’t “accepted” someplace, often it’s due more to the topic than the quality of the haiku. Once upon a time, I was the editor of a cinquain journal (Amaze: The Cinquain Journal) and sometimes I’d get in several poems by different people on the same topic. Perhaps one month I’d have a run on “cat cinquains” or another month, two or three about “forgetting.” When that would happen, unless the poems somehow complimented each other, I’d pick the one I liked best and send the others back, even if I liked the poem.

          1. Thank you, Deborah, for pointing out some interesting aspects of kukai writing from your editorial perspective. I love the challenge of this genre however the results turn out.

      2. Just a point on posting poems outside of the editors choice.
        What is the point of having an editor if all we are going to do is override them.
        I have done it in the past, of late though I think I am starting to understand some of the reasons why some of my poems are not selected. Some weeks there are an overload of the same or similar poem. This must be hard for the editor to choose one. So I assume they choose the one meeting the criteria best.
        This week I wrote one but don’t recall if I posted it. No drama. It was a bit down beat anyway. And we have enough of that in our lives at the moment.
        .
        Debbie, I too have commented here on weeks when my own have not made it through or I have missed the cut off time. Sometimes people don’t even have the courtesy to engage.

        1. Robert, I think you’re probably right on. I submitted a simple two-liner about my nephew picking dandelions, but Julia Guzman’s “lemon pie” poem was more evocative and should take precedence over mine. I don’t know if that’s why mine wasn’t included, but it is maybe why it is my favorite of Tia’s selections this week. It’s better to consider why your haiku wasn’t selected or to forget about it entirely than to feel bad or rejected. Such a short form makes it nearly impossible to write “the right one” for your audience anyway. It’s also more rewarding when it feels like an accomplishment to have made the cut.
          ***
          lemon pie- / the brightness of my nephew’s eyes
          -Julia Guzmán

      3. thanks for this, Deborah, & all who have expressed their thoughts here… posting poems in the comments is always welcomed – as are guest editors! I encourage you all to consider stepping up for this challenging & rewarding work… send me a note on the Contact Form! kj

        1. Thank you for your comments, Robert and kjmunro. I did not mean any disrespect to the editors by posting my poem. Only to share that sometimes, something so personal may not resonate or meet the criteria for the selection. I only meant to be supportive of Deborah’s comments.

  19. Congratulations everyone and thanks, as always, Tia and Lori…..

    Some beautiful ku today – a real tonic – at first glance my favourites are:
    .
    dry grasses…
    the emptiness
    in his eyes
    .
    –Manoj Sharma
    .
    spring festival…
    the yellow pollen
    on her nose ring
    .
    –R. Suresh Babu
    .
    lemon pickle
    the sour taste of your
    lie lingers
    .
    –Vandana Parashar
    .
    soft yellow skins
    of sandhill plums
    her skirt becomes a basket
    .
    –Randy Brooks

  20. Tia, thank you for commenting on my “almost asleep”. I look forward to reading all of the poems in this collection!

  21. Another wonderful selection of verses, well done to all poets.
    .
    weary with arguing
    we share
    bitter lemons
    —Ann Rawson
    There is the possibility for an argument hopefully to, just to clear the air, during this difficult time.
    I like the thought of offering a little sweetness to make amends. I sincerely hope there will be enough of these sweets to go around, I might go and buy a bag, just in case 🙂
    Like the humour with this one.
    .
    Thankyou Tia, for the wonderful comment on my verse, I’m delighted, it has brightened my day.

    1. Thank you, Tia, for publishing my poem and for the great one
          work behind this column. I really would not want to be in the shoes of those on the other side, that is, at the desk to read, evaluate. I also understand who is hopefully waiting, the sense of exclusion, of disappointment.

      The works that I liked:
      yellow to gold
      ribbons won making beauty
      from my mistakes
      .
      wendy c. Bialek,

      yellow stars
      stitched
      by hand in his memory

      Roberta Beach Jacobson, United States

      adolescence…
      those yellow curtains
      in my room

      bouquet
      of yellow chrysanthemums …
      the long journey of marriage

      Tsanka Shishkova

      stay home
      we paint all our walls of
      yellow sun

      Kath Abela Wilson, Pasadena, California

      Happy Easter to everyone

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