Last Chance to Vote in the December 2020 THF Monthly Kukai
This month’s theme:
recovery
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.
The Ballot
1 | 3 long deep breaths cool wind | |
2 | a year long wait for Covid 19 vaccine — road to recovery | |
3 | after my mother’s funeral a newborn cry | |
4 | after the rain windshield clean air smells of laundry | |
5 | ah, dusty love letters all that’s left of my lover’s touch | |
6 | almost there she stumbles on the 12th step | |
7 | amicable divorce — returning the stars received as a gift | |
8 | as the years pass by fall’s red leaves remind me less of the taste of wine | |
9 | at the last instant a squirrel lands feet first spring fever | |
10 | baby steps I stop feeling guilty for being happy | |
11 | back from hospital — her dried plants more thirsty | |
12 | birdsongs . . . the gentle stretch of my days in lockdown | |
13 | black ice quicker than you can imagine | |
14 | both boots on firm ground Marine Sergeant | |
15 | broken hearts . . . yet the orange blossom returns to bloom | |
16 | bruised peaches I unpick my battles | |
17 | catching a slur i throw back a smile winter games | |
18 | chemo brain remembering that tune but not the words | |
19 | Christmas lunch in the prison camp potato peels | |
20 | cool breeze through a beaded curtain — droplet waterfall | |
21 | Covid lockdown Old friend at my door An unseen smile | |
22 | dandelion fluff . . . the wishes that can never bring mama back | |
23 | darkened skies raking the leaves to clear a path | |
24 | divided country all hopes in the heart of a red rose | |
25 | drawn-on eyebrows beneath her hat’s brim . . . first day back | |
26 | dry seed rattle the doctor says I should be just fine | |
27 | Empty bottles Full bottle No bottles | |
28 | fading track lines the recovering addict’s first run | |
29 | fistful of sand I reclaim my sandcastle | |
30 | fit again — a jasmine is a jasmine | |
31 | fresh green shoots on blackened trunks . . . tender signs of life | |
32 | Granddad recovers from the dreaded pandemic . . . a new lease on life | |
33 | grey moon turning green covid survivor | |
34 | half moon she shows me a pad that replaces her breast | |
35 | he can do-si-do with his partner once more arriving spring | |
36 | healing — the waxing moon and I | |
37 | hopeful moon this year’s coral spawning | |
38 | I am still. | |
39 | jasmine blooms the first scent she wakes up to — — — — — — after comatose | |
40 | killing time . . . a call that does not want to come | |
41 | laugh with friends uplifting | |
42 | leaving the hospital the mask discreetly down by the rose bush | |
43 | midnight snowfall — my hospital window | |
44 | missing from the chocolate manger baby Jesus | |
45 | motionless — they renew water to the sunflowers | |
46 | neither taste nor smell . . . the road to recovery feeling quite senseless | |
47 | new leaves the life resumes in the woods | |
48 | no more questions learning to take each day as it comes | |
49 | No sounds except classical piano & calls of birds | |
50 | oak roots — grandpa returns to his home hamlet | |
51 | one day at a time birdsong | |
52 | one-eared rescue kitty purring us to sleep | |
53 | out of the woods . . . from the hospital window forest bathing | |
54 | pandemic sending sympathy cards by email | |
55 | Past frames fade away All nature’s healers aubade Forgiveness has wings | |
56 | post-op she smiles more each day | |
57 | precious coral the color slowly returns to her cheeks | |
58 | prognosis — I stretch her lifeline with my marker | |
59 | rain covers the tears I’m leaving the hospital repaired | |
60 | raking leaves a deep breath after pneumonia | |
61 | recovery — over a corn stubble plain clouds carry light | |
62 | Recovery Victory . . . Both a “V” shaped curve | |
63 | return of swallows can the journeying heart remain unscathed? | |
64 | scratched tom cat sleeping all day long — ready for the next night | |
65 | sheltered minds recuperate — meteor showers | |
66 | silent retreat — picking up the pieces behind closed doors | |
67 | slow traffic . . . a beaming chef works his magic | |
68 | Snoring dog At my side Fills the memory of you | |
69 | spring shower . . . on a fallen bough a few sprouts | |
70 | starry night questions connecting the dots | |
71 | stemmed — cherry blossom at the hospice | |
72 | sun warms the standing some sit | |
73 | temple bell love an echo too | |
74 | the heart’s resolve to mend . . . guardian moon | |
75 | the last thread holding me together strong as spiders’ silk | |
76 | the premature baby recovers pandemic | |
77 | the storm is over pink lotus reblooms with sunrise | |
78 | the sun through our tears: a rainbow | |
79 | the way to myself still there the Milky Way | |
80 | trauma of cancer no birth again — first lip move after complete cure | |
81 | virus year the psychiatric nurse on stress leave | |
82 | waking up in a hospital bed where am I? | |
83 | watercolour painting the rainbow within me | |
84 | waxing moon . . . grandfather’s eyes start seeing again | |
85 | When I made peace with myself . . . And realized my worth . . . I felt I recovered | |
86 | wife left not a loss he said she took the pug | |
87 | wind stampeding bansara rice stalks on bended knees aftermath paternoster | |
88 | winning catch his gleam while dusting the bruises | |
89 | winter rays the rotten pumpkin on the top stair spent | |
90 | working on myself step by step to serenity | |
91 | Xmas carol mom wakes up from coma | |
92 | X-ray warmth goes from fingertips right into the heart | |
93 | you arrive in the shape of a moth |
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!
