Last Chance to Vote in the August 2020 THF Monthly Kukai
This month’s theme:
do(ing) the right thing
Voting closes for The Haiku Foundation Monthly Kukai tonight at midnight (east coast time). So make those final decisions and let us know who you think did the best work this month.
Voting for The Haiku Foundation Monthly Kukai
Shortly after the conclusion of the submission period, an anonymous ballot comprising all submitted poems on that month’s theme will be posted to Troutswirl (The Haiku Foundation blog) on the THF site. Any reader of this ballot is eligible to vote for their favorite poems at this time. A voter may vote for up to five (5) poems per theme. A top vote will receive 5 points, a second-place vote 4 points, a third-place vote 3 points, a fourth-place vote 2 points, and a fifth-place vote 1 point.
Please use the Kukai voting form below to enter your selections, and then press Submit to cast your votes. No other votes will be recognized or honored. All votes must be signed (that is, no “anonymous” votes will be accepted, and the Submit button will not be available until both Name and Email fields are filled in), and no poet may vote for his or her own work. No commentary upon the poems will be accepted or published. Votes will be accepted from the appearance of the ballot on the 18th of that month through midnight of the 24th of that month. Readers may vote only once per ballot. Administrators of the kukai are ineligible to vote.
The Ballot
| 1 | a fifty bill that could buy dinner – “hey mate, you dropped this” | |
| 2 | a mask – is it so much to ask? | |
| 3 | a new dawn – yesterday’s people that I forgave | |
| 4 | a new morning the same girlfriend the same sofa | |
| 5 | a right path reading self help books all night spilled pills on her floor | |
| 6 | A tiny kindness Moves from one soul to others Nicer than COVID | |
| 7 | activated standing up and speaking out | |
| 8 | an overturned cup – every cell knows what’s needed | |
| 9 | ants looking for supply . . . social stomach | |
| 10 | beggar bird – breaking bread with him in the parking lot | |
| 11 | between who is right and what is left conscience | |
| 12 | black orchids never get as much water as white tulips | |
| 13 | blowing a dandelion the third world peace | |
| 14 | calling out all lies to my name I write a crossed cheque to self affirmation | |
| 15 | calling summer night with frogs and birds orchestra fucking mosquito | |
| 16 | coffee break a crumb for the sparrow | |
| 17 | colorful flowers are dying hey, gardener, wake up! | |
| 18 | convincing myself everything is fine tree without cherries | |
| 19 | Courage to dispatch My misconceptions so they Stop slithering back. | |
| 20 | covid lockdown the click of the wall clock wasting away | |
| 21 | Covid stockpiling – we buy more canned corn for the food pantry | |
| 22 | crippled beggar – sprinting to catch a city bus | |
| 23 | crossing edmund pettus bridge yoked horses | |
| 24 | curtain full of hope new bride | |
| 25 | damage control I pledge to be kind to myself | |
| 26 | deep autumn grandpa avoids stepping on dry leaves | |
| 27 | distant hooting – he leaves the aviary door ajar | |
| 28 | divorced dad my daughter dresses herself for preschool | |
| 29 | do unto others . . . | |
| 30 | doing justice to the disinherited – the devouring fire | |
| 31 | doing the right thing – and yet in that fist of dust burying my heart, too | |
| 32 | doing the right thing is not a covid challenge self swapped for other | |
| 33 | domestic violence she calls the police for pizza | |
| 34 | ecology of everyone the essential in us all | |
| 35 | election day searching for the fine print on the ballot paper | |
| 36 | election day thumbing ballots amid all fears | |
| 37 | ethics schmethics the wild | |
| 38 | first rain of autumn cardboard house by the river lonely beats the chill | |
| 39 | forgetting all the mirages . . . sixtieth birthday | |
| 40 | freed bird letting her tell her story | |
| 41 | from a little hand the ladybug falls on aphids | |
| 42 | further surgery his mother’s sadness that he stepped in | |
| 43 | half of the night lake ripples rush to land palm tree breaks | |
| 44 | heat in the open I’m hiding | |
| 45 | his begging face swollen with tears she drops a twenty | |
| 46 | hunger pangs – the homeless man feeds the strays | |
| 47 | i do not know your name | |
| 48 | I don’t know what’s right – the woman herself appeared on the summer road | |
| 49 | in fourteen lines a tempest sonneteer wears his mask | |
| 50 | in search of right owner – bundle of currency | |
| 51 | in the shade of the trees my mind runs free | |
| 52 | in the virgin snow someone wrote with pee – love | |
| 53 | last ripening fig squirrels’ peace offering after the raid | |
| 54 | last tree standing – the woodcutter chooses heart over head | |
| 55 | legal lawlessness slowly stains the pure white gloves inhuman Earth | |
| 56 | let it be . . . swallow nests empty again | |
| 57 | letting go for love empty nest | |
| 58 | liquor store – I pass by on the other side | |
| 59 | malpractice record and admit testify truthfully | |
| 60 | marital status . . . she writes live-in relationship | |
| 61 | mowing the lawn leaving a flower a butterfly | |
| 62 | muggy night under a sweaty mask ♫ we shall overcome ♪♪♪ | |
| 63 | not drinking – at day’s end integrity | |
| 64 | piggy bank – I paste a tag ‘for sanitary worker’ | |
| 65 | Poet’s death notice: She always did the right thing Gift: burnt the bad ones | |
| 66 | Pooping in the litter box the cat races around and goes for a joy run | |
| 67 | quail eggs in the abandoned nest – I withdraw my hand | |
| 68 | quarantine we settle into silence | |
| 69 | recipes from around the world COVID-19 food bank | |
| 70 | recycling . . . where did it come from where will it go | |
| 71 | refugee camp a boy sets free a butterfly caught in barbed wire | |
| 72 | refugee drowning my mother slips in and out of her accent | |
| 73 | ripe peach – the flavor of summer along the elbow | |
| 74 | rush hour / moving a tortoise / out of the road | |
| 75 | scarves and mittens . . . this year she makes masks for the homeless | |
| 76 | see(ing) the dumpster and offer(ing) better free food | |
| 77 | Selma bridge the gates of heaven open for John Lewis | |
| 78 | she catches her brother’s smile a marrow match | |
| 79 | she counts the cash before the wallet’s return . . . Good Friday | |
| 80 | she mailed her vote wearing a mask | |
| 81 | shift of wind – the first fig gathered for you | |
| 82 | shortage of masks she makes two out of her bra | |
| 83 | sick cat the long scar on the vet’s arm | |
| 84 | simple gesture the smile in the eyes of a stranger | |
| 85 | sommer prayer – also this night the roses they remain roses | |
| 86 | stepping aside to let the old dear pass only my reflection | |
| 87 | Striped caterpillars cross the gravel driveway – stop if you hope for wings | |
| 88 | sudden knock at the door dogs barking, baby crying food delivery. | |
| 89 | summer trim it’s best to prune the rough edges | |
| 90 | sunspots full feeling as I watch the urchin eat | |
| 91 | sweeping up shattered glass out of work | |
| 92 | teacher throws away incorrect haiku; with care he uncrumples it | |
| 93 | the breadth of oceans is unbridgeable distance – we stopped talking | |
| 94 | the eagle and cat blood on their claw and tongue true to who they are | |
| 95 | the rattle of kibble into a bowl – my cat’s meow | |
| 96 | the right thing here the wrong thing there – depending on the weather | |
| 97 | the way ahead a spider probes with one leg | |
| 98 | this weight of doing nothing . . . too much | |
| 99 | thunder shower . . . the sound of cat’s love-making | |
| 100 | to live hurting no one | |
| 101 | too close two eyes in the popcorn bucket | |
| 102 | trail of ants . . . my walk becomes a silly dance | |
| 103 | turning the car back home my forgotten mask | |
| 104 | voice in the gloaming . . . lodestar | |
| 105 | volunteer rota mignonette seedlings dot the rose bed | |
| 106 | waiting for tomorrow’s morning glories bamboo brushes | |
| 107 | we backtrack to offer a euro merci/mercy | |
| 108 | wearing mask i hope Covid-19 will avoid me | |
| 109 | what about love? bringing understanding not violence | |
| 110 | what it is – divided plants now bloom in each other’s garden | |
| 111 | who’s to say which way she should go goalkeeping child | |
| 112 | Wind storm – Dragonfly looks for space In my room. | |
| 113 | witches bend crooked chimneys smoking right |
Kukai Results
On the first day of the following month, results of the tally of the kukai will be announced. The top vote-getters as voted by readers will be posted, along with the number of points each poem tallied, and each poem’s authorship will be revealed at this time. Winners will be invited to select from a list of prizes provided by The Haiku Foundation. The theme for the new month will be announced at the same time, and the process repeated. Poems remain the copyrighted property of their authors, but The Haiku Foundation reserves the right to publish, display and archive all submitted poems for this and other purposes at its discretion.
Congratulations to all our participants!
