Haiku Dialogue – Social Issues – Basic Human Rights
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.
This week we’ll explore the “-isms” within social justice. These include, but are not limited to: racism, sexism, ableism, classism. We all have either seen or experienced social injustice and this is a theme in which we can really delve into what makes us who we are as individuals.
Although I have provided suggestions, I leave this as open to interpretation as I can.
The deadline is midnight EST, Saturday November 16, 2019.
Social Issues: Basic Human Rights
I am both pleased and disheartened with the submissions sent for this week’s prompt. These poems are a critical reminder of where we stand within our individual societies, as well as the world as a whole. We have a lot to fix and bringing awareness to these issues is the best way to start our journey of creating solutions. The following poems I have selected were what I felt best fit this theme. I encourage everyone to keep submitting, as these are Revolutionary Haiku, or haiku for change.
sixties breadwinner…
the boss’s hand
on my breastPris Campbell
We are at a pivotal point in history and society in which more victims of sexual harassment and assault are speaking out against their abusers. This piece in particular caught my attention for a few reasons. One, it fits this prompt exceptionally well. Not only should generalized safety be a basic human right, but especially in the workplace. The other reason this ku kept me reading and re-reading is the double meaning as this could be either a working woman in her 60s or a woman working during the women’s rights movements in the 60s. Either way, this piece is brilliant and moving.
bullied boy
his dress dangling
on the beamRoberta Beary
County Mayo, Ireland
We’ve come quite a ways in the fight for LGBT and gender identity rights, but there are still people persecuted daily for being who they are. What really tugged at my heart in this piece is the word “boy”. What happens to us as children affects us our entire lives. As someone who was bullied, and has been condemned for my sexuality, this just really hit home. What I admire about this piece is that the beam could be a literal beam where the bullies have thrown his clothes, or a metaphorical beam representing where he hangs his dress to suppress who he is as a need to please his family and/or society, both of which are heartbreaking scenarios.
superman pajamas
his kryptonite nightmare
lead in the waterLaurie Greer
Washington DC
This poem literally took my breath away. Here we are reminded of the innocence of children who know not the dangers of the world. The seriousness of this piece comes only in the third line while giving readers a lighter and more relatable beginning. Water is essential for survival and should be our most accessible right. Yet, not even our water is safe. Not only is the juxtaposition of lead in the water to superman’s kryptonite pure genius, but Laurie also gives us the perfect “ah-ha!” moment by linking line one to line two and shifting away in line three. Technically and contextually, this poem is power in the purest sense of the word.
Here are the rest of my selections for this week:
gay pride
the churchyard
out in pinkHelen Buckingham
the man who does not work
cannot form a family –
landfill breadVincenzo Adamo
homeless camp
other things on their mind
besides ThanksgivingStephen Peters
child bride –
the acrid smell
of shameMaria Teresa Sisti
confectionery box –
a little refugee fills it
with mud dumplingsAljoša Vuković
Croatia
VOTE! VOTE!VOTE! VOTE!VOTE!VOTE! VOTE!VOTE! VOTE!
Mark Gilbert
UK
heavy heat
how he keeps on insisting
after she said noOlivier Schopfer
Switzerland
lesson in winter
the teacher explains
love in the worldDennys Cambarau
I learn
I can say no
somnolence’s endChristina Sng
from coolie
to class one grade- same school
village’s prideRadhamani sarma
coppers for food —
wrapped in a dirty blanket
a one legged manRobert Kingston
UK
imagine the bombs
family, books, music smashed
around Syrianancy liddle
empty seashells
the refugee can talk
in many dialectsGuliz Mutlu
outlaw
environment campaigns–
the mass arrestsChristina Chin
a rakhi on my wrist –
my friend who barely
speaks EnglishNeelam Dadhwal
India
war pollution –
the pastures around,
desertsinquinamento bellico –
i pascoli, intorno,
deserti …Maria Teresa Piras
many ways to soften the term half-caste
Ingrid Baluchi
Macedonia
cane shines in the sun
sound of his lame dragging feet
too late for the busNuky Kristijono
Indonesia
cancelled engagement
was I wrong in asking to keep
my maiden nameVandana Parashar
Lesbos
encased in barbed wire
a baby dollEva Limbach
long ago
and forced relocation –
candle flamesZdenka Mlinar
the guitar remains silent
at the homeless person’s grave
an old dog’s howlingkitara molči –
na brezdomčevem grobu
zavija star pesIvanka Kostantino
Slovenia
street protests
bread and freedom
on bannersGoran Radičević
discussing fervently
my international students
the UN Declaration of Human RightsJudith Hishikawa
NY
self-expression
one black sheep
in a white herdSerhiy Shpychenko
Kyiv, UA
bowed heads
the wind whispers
into shieldsB Shropshire
work day
the chimney of a nearby factory
without smokeSlobodan Pupovac
Croatia
in the clinic
the freedom of having
no choicePat Davis
NH USA
human sales traffic stop
Marilyn Ashbaugh
they stole more than
just my hearing
explosions of warRoberta Beach Jacobson
USA
a burden
abandoned
old parentsVishnu Kapoor
memories of war
he keeps to himself
Veterans DayDebbie Scheving
women and abortion:
the right to manage
your bodydonne e aborto:
il diritto di gestire
il proprio corpoAngela Giordano
Italy
her whisper
at the reception desk
no insurancePeggy Hale Bilbro
Alabama
temple feast
whether rich or poor
the same queue for allRicha Sharma
old beggar
with a plastic cup of hot drink
winter smellNeni Rusliana
Indonesia
eating last
with salt
without her
share of curryR.Suresh Babu
India
lives lost to hatred
blown away by oblivion
red leaves fallingJackie Chou
CA USA
needed worker
for the reception –
not pregnant womenLjiljana Dobra
Sibenik Croatia
torn jeans
below the voting booth curtain
hanging by a threadSari Grandstaff
Saugerties, NY
empty hands
the weight of spare change
in my pocketRich Schilling
Webster Groves, MO
still here
after three flushes
the spidersimonj
UK
my wife in ICU
door boy says
visitors not allowedSrinivasa Rao Sambangi
child shows off
a bullet proof backpack
no jokeKath Abela Wilson
Pasadena, California
one kitchen
religious holidays
Christmas and EidNani Mariani
withered silver grass
the trace of life
voiceless criesTomoko Nakata
traffic signal –
a beggar shuffles moonlight
in his bowlarvinder kaur
Chandigarh, India
park bench…
the man with no address
sings to his dogMadhuri Pillai
hand-me-downs
see what hides her pregnant bulge
in a car mirrorwendy c. bialek
az, usa
soup kitchen
her life of living
hand to mouthMichele L. Harvey
subway station –
morning headlines
homeless man’s blanketTomislav Sjekloća
Cetinje, Montenegro
Islamophobia —
a new moon steeple lost
into the orange cloudsHifsa Ashraf
Pakistan
a small boy
the ocean has delivered
face downRon Scully
now exposed the brittle roots of dreamers
Steve Tabb
human writes
the refugee stories
of childrenChristina Pecoraro
house call
in my black bag no cure
for hungerRuth Powell
gay parade
pride and prejudice
hand in handFranjo Ordanic
stoved
in clay bricks
children’s painHelga Stania
Switzerland
at the tavern
we think twice
about holding handsJanice Munro
Canada
bread and wine –
the rest of the groceriesAdrian Bouter
cough syrup
one tablespoon short
for the third childAnthony Rabang
silver dollar
the face of Liberty
effacedMark Meyer
broken flowers:
dirge silent of child bridesfiori spezzati:
nenia silente di spose bambineGiuliana Ravaglia
out-of-work
the sound of bees
carrying pollencezar ciobîcă
my girlfriend
reveals her bruises –
coming outTia Haynes
the a(n)esthetic of Ableism
Michael N Morell
basic right
health care
for allKathleen Mazurowski
under open skies
unharvested corn fields
demarcation lineNatalia Kuznetsova
tyrants with guns
among the innocent
heroines and heroesCarmen Sterba
old coat…
without dinner in bed
on a benchFrancesco Palladino
a bum’s hand
offering help
refusing to himselfbrezdomčeva roka
ponuja pomoč
sebi zavračaSaša Slavković
Slovenia
wilted garden
bluesman sings
of climate changeRehn Kovacic
distant moon
love me for
who I amAnna Maria Domburg-Sancristoforo
border detention–
one Monarch flies high above
a child’s reaching handSusan Rogers
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 31 Comments
Comments are closed.
cancelled engagement
was I wrong in asking to keep
my maiden name
.
Vandana Parashar
your poem speaks of the (sometimes) conflicting feelings…. which arise as an awareness of people who wish to do things differently, and how to deal with the pressure to conform to the expectations of others. to be needy of the approval from others verses to be true to oneself.
park bench…
the man with no address
sings to his dog
.
Madhuri Pillai
i appreciate the respect and compassion shown in this poem.
“the man with no address” can be anyone….maybe his house was burnt down from a wildfire…..maybe he lost everything he had paying medical bills for a wife who passed away….after all! …it is refreshing to me to see… that no negative judgement is made about him….and that he gives love and comfort to his dog shows a heart-warming example….that although he may not have the soft material comforts for himself….he has a big heart to share with his companion…and provides a loving, harmonious home…where ever he is. very zen!
A significant read this week. Am looking forward to the next. Commenting on a couple not previously mentioned:
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confectionery box –
a little refugee fills it
with mud dumplings
.
Aljosa Vukovic
Croatia
.
The hope the child maintained in play moved me. Plus I associated the box with being boxed in.
*
cancelled engagement
was I wrong in asking to keep
my maiden name
.
Vandana Parashar
.
I loved this in the form of a question. So many life decisions represented here.
*
park bench…
the man with no address
sings to his dog
.
Madhuri Pillai
.
Both sad and uplifting, which I appreciate in a poem.
Dear Lori Zajkowisky, Lori A. Minor, and Catherine Munoe,
Greetings. Thanks for selecting mine. I am honored. MY favorite for this week is the following, of so many.
under open skies
unharvested corn fields
demarcation line
Natalia Kuznetsova
Thank you Lori for hosting these poems.
My favourite, such a poignant image and choice of words !
a small boy
the ocean has delivered
face down
Ron Scully
it is clear, not only from these comments, but from the poems themselves, that ‘social issues’ have a place in haiku – thanks to Lori & to all you brave poets for your powerful words!
lori you have done a great service to humanity for choosing to run this series. thank you for posting my poem here.
the poems are all terrific. will comment later.
Prison visit
the guard admires
my amber brooch
I meant to avoid reading the newspaper first thing this morning by visiting this site! I momentarily forgot the topic of the week. So much disrespect, so much violence, always inflicted on the most vulberable. The world is buckling under the pain.
Congratulations Lori on a strong start. Many powerful pieces here. I particularly responded to Debbie Scheving’s memories of war / he keeps to himself / Veterans Day. The way line 2 can serve double duty (as the veteran keeping silent about his experiences and as the veteran isolating himself) is so effective and eye catching. War wounds are often invisible.
Thank you Craig, for seeing the overlap of lines, and the sentiment. I had a family member in mind when I wrote this. He was drafted and served honorably but chose to share very little about the experience with family.
I’m still reading and absorbing all of the thoughtful poems this week.
Again I have taken the prompt much more literally than most, but this week I particularly admire for their power or poignancy –
*
street protests
bread and freedom
on banners
-Goran Radičević
*
a small boy
the ocean has delivered
face down
-Ron Scully
*
at the tavern
we think twice
about holding hands
-Janice Munro
*
distant moon
love me for
who I am
-Anna Maria Domburg-Sancristoforo
Thank you for including my haiku in your choice.
Mark, I enjoyed your concrete checked ballot.
Thank you so much Mark, for your mention.
Thanks to Laurie Greer for remarking on my poem – I was hoping that the many forms of “freedom” would come through. Thanks to all who submitted and to Kathy and Lori,
Maybe it will let me post now!
Thanks, Lori–for all your work on this–an exciting and important prompt, and insightful and sensitive comments; I appreciate your remarks on mine.
I liked and was moved by too many to comment on. but some thoughts:
gay pride
the churchyard
out in pink
Helen Buckingham
*
Love the new spin on the old trope of flowering trees in the cemetery
*
homeless camp
other things on their mind
besides Thanksgiving
Stephen Peters
I agree with Ingrid’s remarks on this one. Also like the way thanks and Thanksgiving aren’t counted out, just put into a larger context. And when we give thanks for what we have, how often do we think of the fine lines that separate us from those who go without?
*
child bride –
the acrid smell
of shame
Maria Teresa Sisti
*
A subtle comment here: who, exactly is feeling the shame, and who should be?
*
heavy heat
how he keeps on insisting
after she said no
Olivier Schopfer
Switzerland
*
This one is loaded—in several senses of the term
*
work day
the chimney of a nearby factory
without smoke
Slobodan Pupovac
Croatia
*
Like the strong visuals here and all the lack says about dying dreams, homoe fires, etc.
*
in the clinic
the freedom of having
no choice
Pat Davis
NH USA
*
This one nicely gets at a range of meanings of “freedom”
*
her whisper
at the reception desk
no insurance
Peggy Hale Bilbro
Alabama
*
More shame here—not having health insurance does make one feel like a second-class citizen, and it often seems to incite suspicion among health-care givers. Or maybe it’s just their confusion over not knowing which form to fill out for an atypical situation.
*
empty hands
the weight of spare change
in my pocket
Rich Schilling
Webster Groves, MO
*
This is nicely done—that “weight” suggests guilt and substance and probably more.
*
a small boy
the ocean has delivered
face down
Ron Scully
*
Powerful image. And “delivered”—not into a new life here.
*
now exposed the brittle roots of dreamers
Steve Tabb
*
Nice reflection of the DACA situation, and of those following the American dream more generally.
*
human writes
the refugee stories
of children
Christina Pecoraro
*
Yes—we need to listen: each figure in the headlines is a person with a past, present, and future, not just part of a data set or issue.
*
house call
in my black bag no cure
for hunger
Ruth Powell
*
Another one that conveys complicated feelings and problems elegantly and powerfully
*
cough syrup
one tablespoon short
for the third child
Anthony Rabang
*
And here, too; I’d also add poignantly
*
my girlfriend
reveals her bruises –
coming out
Tia Haynes
*
Startling and rich—the coming out of something to be proud of as well as raising awareness of the thoughtless assumptions and bias in response
*
Thanks to all for contributing!
Thank you for commenting on my poem, Laurie. This week’s theme brought out some powerful writing. I’m honored to be included with them.
Thank you very much, Laurie, for mentioning my poem!
Thanks so much, Laurie, really appreciate your comment…..and thanks also to Lori for doing an excellent job, some really good work here, congratulations everyone!
Thanks for enjoying my haiku!
I’ve sent a comment four times–it hasn’t appeared.
Anyone else having trouble?
I also sent and it was not published, most likely there was a selection
Thank you Lori for hosting this series. The poems this week are moving and awakening. One that reaches into my personal experience:
I learn
I can say no
somnolence’s end
.
Christina Sng
some wonderfully heartfelt, gut wrenching poems here. congrats to these brave poets! keep on keeping on…
.
tyrants with guns
among the innocent
heroines and heroes
.
Carmen Sterba
.
.
We seem to idolise and empower the tyrants who use guns directly or indirectly and decry and despise and attempt to disempower those who do straight talking, such as Greta Thuberg (environment) and the college young adults who eloquently denounce excessive gun use on their own or other college students by fellow countrymen (usually male).
.
Every time there is a mass school shooting we learn about the murdered, how young or older, they gave so much on a daily basis, and on the killing day, and can no longer enrich our society.
.
A powerful piece about guns from Carmen Sterba.
.
.
Reading Garry’s post, I’m reminded way back in 2007, undertaking a lot of research for a manuscript that teachers were being sold various ‘bullet-proof’ accessories including clipboards that would slow down a successful incursion, and ‘bullet-proof’ blankets to envelop children to give them a chance to survive a school or college invasion.
.
It’s shocking enough to have to require accessories to survive an onslaught of live ammunition, but for schools or individual to be made to buy them for themselves and children is astonishing to me. It’s capitalism going too far, in taking monetary advantage from these evil acts.
.
This haikai verse was inspired by a quote, I believe, from novelist Edna O’Brien. And at 88 years she continues to talk about guns, and weaponising:
.
Author Edna O’Brien: ‘Women and girls are weapons of war now ’
https://www.channel4.com/news/author-edna-obrien-women-and-girls-are-weapons-of-war-now
.
Edna O’Brien Bears Witness To Horror In ‘Girl’:
https://www.npr.org/2019/10/16/770434488/edna-obrien-bears-witness-to-horror-in-girl
.
.
This haikai verse is inspired by a much earlier quote, which sadly I cannot locate, where she talks about mothers, and their child either dying by a gun, or carrying a gun and committing a crime in aggression or in defence, but nevertheless resulting in death:
,
.
she carries the warm gun’s child
.
Alan Summers
is/let ed. Scott Metz (January 2017)
.
.
and
.
.
inside the apple core
a pocket full of sorry
kills the gun
.
Alan Summers
Publication credit: hedgerow #111 ed. Caroline Skanne (2017)
.
Article: “Loading a Gun: Imagery in Haiku” by David Grayson
(Frogpond vol. 41:3 fall 2018)
http://www.hsa-haiku.org/frogpond/2018-issue41-3/Grayson-LoadingGun-Fp41-3.pdf
.
.
We have gone past the stage where capitalism was the enabler, and we need to get back to ordinary business that benefits not parasites or weaponising the innocent populations around the world.
.
In the U.K. it’s knives and hot air by politicians, and running interference or not funding any decent person in public service by doing something to stem the growing violence often exacerbated by crippling cuts by a single political party in power/government.
And I see that Kath Abella has:
.
.
child shows off
a bullet proof backpack
no joke
.
Kath Abela Wilson
Pasadena, California
.
.
I’m reminded of when someone took a potshot at me at night walking home from a poet’s house, in a semi-dodgy part of Bristol once. It sounded like a gunshot, and the thing zing-popped by my ear and the concussive effect stung and I got a headache.
.
The emergency police call didn’t get anyone out that though, even though a second blast was heard by the operator.
.
I worked out that my bright green backpack was actually highly luminous, night club luminous, and that’s what they were aiming for, driving past in a car. I liked that bag! But it’s not bullet-proof, and neither is my head. 🙂
.
It’s strange that in the 21st Century there is enough violence, of one kind or another, going around to equal a small to medium war.
back to school
bullet proofs vests for sale
all sizes
Such an important issue and sad reality that we face knowing our babies are not safe. Thank you for sharing this heartbreaking poem.
Thank you to Lori for this opportunity to ‘air our views’ on basic human rights — a subject of ever increasing importance in our world today.
.
This week produced some great reads, among them, but by no means all:
.
homeless camp
other things on their mind
besides Thanksgiving
.
Stephen Peters
.
Transitory migrants who are stuck in limbo for whatever reason may well have a roof over their heads, and even a little food, but what goes on in Libyan camps, which are no more than prisons, and especially how women are treated, is utterly shameful.
I could not agree with you more, Ingrid. Stephen’s piece really captured what hunger and poverty is actually like. He did a stunning job of not just retelling a story, but actually making us feel something for the homeless. I think that many times we tend to acknowledge that these things do happen and want to help, but fail to fully empathize unless we’ve been there ourselves. Haiku is a brilliant platform for helping others to step into our shoes. I firmly believe it’s the next best thing to experiencing it ourselves and that is how we will gain an understanding and compassion toward others. This is how we can change the world; by recognizing the problem, spreading awareness, and fighting for a solution.
Thank you for commenting and for sending to me this week. I loved your piece. Such a brilliant monoku that I get lost in with every read.