Last Chance to Vote in the August 2021 THF Monthly Kukai
This month’s theme:
consternation
Voting closes for The Haiku Foundation Monthly Kukai tonight (the 24th) at midnight (east coast time). So make those final decisions and let us know whom 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.
Note: Anonymity is an essential part of any kukai. If you know who wrote the poem then that entry is no longer anonymous. Please respect the Kukai and do not vote for that entry
The Ballot
1 | a bite of apple I meet the other half of worm | |
2 | A frog became a prince . . . but whatever happened to the Golden Ball? | |
3 | a rogue comet causing consternation in constellations | |
4 | a ruckus mothers scolding a hawk | |
5 | a spider hangs by a thread I drop into your life | |
6 | A violent wind The deluge of terror falls Only within me. | |
7 | after fifty years . . . I don’t hear anymore his snoring | |
8 | all morning the rise and fall of chainsaws louder, nearer | |
9 | All Saints’ Day — on the Virgin Mary face a lipstick kiss | |
10 | another cuppa . . . I find dismay doesn’t mean what I thought it did | |
11 | barking in her sleep the old dog chases rabbits | |
12 | before serving the soufflé deflates a chef’s worst nightmare | |
13 | befuddled by the morass left behind futureless lives | |
14 | birthday cake in the oven wildfires again | |
15 | biting heat — the rattle snake in my head | |
16 | burnt grasses — the ordinariness of death in these times | |
17 | busy bee her micromanaging disrupts the workflow | |
18 | celebrity divorce — a wide-spread consternation | |
19 | cleaning his silent harmonica silences | |
20 | clear sea the little boy teases a jellyfish | |
21 | coal eyes, carrot nose, coal mouth and some child’s high hopes on the ground | |
22 | cold dawn counting the dew drops that remain | |
23 | consternation: the cicadas start a new song | |
24 | Covid test — his hand on my cheek another fear | |
25 | dawn pinks the ears of an old appaloosa named Consternation | |
26 | delivery room — cold palms against the warmth of a stillborn | |
27 | dementia recalibrating reality | |
28 | dewdrops in a spider´s web flood of the century | |
29 | dry seed rattle the doctor tells me I should be fine | |
30 | extended lockdown . . . only a flock of sparrows in the playground | |
31 | fender bender my vocabulary turns blue | |
32 | first ignite of gas cylinder leakage in morn till evening is set | |
33 | fish rushing to feed at the cremation site outpoured urn | |
34 | flashing yellow lights brighten her texts coffin birth | |
35 | following a new deer trail . . . to my tulip stems | |
36 | Gardening alone underbrush dry leaves startled gentle fawn | |
37 | global warming — future generations in our leaders’ hands | |
38 | global warming — the smallest pinelike cone grows so slowly | |
39 | gnashing of teeth . . . I freeze and pray to the dog god | |
40 | half moon where is the rest of you | |
41 | her quibbles the salt cap falls off | |
42 | her totaled car brings mom to a key decision | |
43 | high in a spruce chittering squirrel defends his stash | |
44 | high pollen count — a bee pollinates my hi vis | |
45 | human life threatened poets look aside life is poetry? | |
46 | hush, child, hush the priest is speaking to God who is God | |
47 | “I’m leaving you” lightning from a cloudless sky | |
48 | Indian summer — an earwig enters and exits my ear | |
49 | insomnia — all the stars cannot be counted | |
50 | late night call diagnosis confirmed no plans | |
51 | light at the end of the tunnel . . . oncoming train | |
52 | live lobsters boiled free upon request | |
53 | locked out — rifling frantically through her bag | |
54 | loss . . . away from chubby hands a rattle | |
55 | masked riders all eyes turn to the cough | |
56 | muddy stretch at trail’s end a lost shoe | |
57 | mutual bewilderment the first time he forgets who I am | |
58 | my day mask for safety will my sleep mask worn at night shield me from my dreams? | |
59 | neighbor’s face . . . my dog salute each time his new car | |
60 | neon light corridor — the black of each word in a diagnosis | |
61 | new flooding caused by moon wobbles panic attacks wax | |
62 | new home my puppy whimpers into the morning | |
63 | no limits can hold your surprise | |
64 | Nothing to swat at Silence replaces buzzing Where are the insects | |
65 | on the roof the cat is sleeping earthquake | |
66 | on the table the ivory centerpiece . . . elephant in the room | |
67 | pandemic funeral . . . a flock of crows quenching the light | |
68 | perfect green the neighbour’s golf ball under my brooding hen | |
69 | periods scrutinizing the missed months — headaches | |
70 | pierced old shell — from somewhere the intrusion of a new passion | |
71 | political speech alarms, op-ed claims falsehood, pol admits ruse; wow! | |
72 | post covid I gasp at the stranger in my mirror | |
73 | quiet night . . . the stone in his grip brewing | |
74 | rancid cheese and sour milk | |
75 | return after years in air-conditioned car scent of hay | |
76 | roaming the beach butts cans caps nurdles tissues wrappers | |
77 | rush hour — a squirrel zig-zags like a pro | |
78 | sand castles on a rusty sleigh a plush giraffe | |
79 | science fair an eight year old’s take on the universe | |
80 | screams of an owl echoing smoky sunset | |
81 | Shocked wave Heart is on fire Anxiety | |
82 | signs of growing up a mother’s consternation of her girl child | |
83 | Small screen. Endless words coming out of it. | |
84 | stress at work going full circle in the turnstile door | |
85 | sudden midnight knock frightened, I answer the door woodpecker’s visit | |
86 | summer squall the yard cat coughs out a feather | |
87 | teen daughter past curfew time high tension wire | |
88 | the absence of light twisting softly a doorknob filtering of light | |
89 | the decision can I live alone | |
90 | third wave how little we know of living | |
91 | thistle prickles my neighbor points with his middle finger | |
92 | thunder suddenly fur on my feet | |
93 | Toilet door Triangle and circle Someone forgot about geometry | |
94 | two boys who skipped school shiver under the train bridge drenched by a cloudburst | |
95 | under a wave . . . my friends waving back from shore | |
96 | Undismayed the toad in the baked riverbed dreams of the monsoon rain | |
97 | unheard — wishes upon a star | |
98 | where do we begin I’m not quite sure, are you . . . yes, love is contagious, too |
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!
