Last Chance to Vote in the November 2021 THF Monthly Kukai
This month’s theme:
leaves
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 | 1000 why 1000 because falling leaves | |
2 | A cold wind rustles the falling, twirling light — leaves rock the nest. | |
3 | a coming out of leaves this fall debutante ball | |
4 | a dancing ginkgo leaf holds back fall | |
5 | a dry leaf skitters by trailing Autumn | |
6 | a maple leaf falls attached seed pods underneath — bountiful harvest | |
7 | a maple leaf stands against old hurricane in leave blower sound | |
8 | a mint leaves bathing in a cup of tea the mug is leaved | |
9 | a pile of leaves caught up in a sudden gust gone with the wind | |
10 | a stingless bee in a landfill raked leaves | |
11 | abandoned house mourning as if a leafless tree | |
12 | aspen autumn . . . on a bed of yellow a lone red | |
13 | autumn breeze an old frog watching yellow leaves fall | |
14 | autumn dreams fewer and fewer leaves on the trees | |
15 | autumn . . . leaf after leaf disappear all her memories | |
16 | autumn leaf by leaf throws grass invisible | |
17 | autumn leaves billowing in the wind my first pirouette | |
18 | autumn leaves drifting further away from home | |
19 | autumn leaves going out in a blaze of glory | |
20 | autumn leaves — in my mother’s graveyard i choose a colour | |
21 | autumn leaves knowing when its time to let go | |
22 | autumn leaves . . . no remnant too tattered for the quilt | |
23 | autumn leaves painting the wind — Miles Davis | |
24 | autumn party . . . dress code of red and gold | |
25 | autumn rainstorm puddles filled with foliage footprints side by side | |
26 | autumn wind blows lying carpets of leaves transparent trees | |
27 | autumn yellow I sense a new quaver in amma’s prayers | |
28 | autumn’s faded hues crunching beneath my feet — sounds of nostalgia | |
29 | bare tree who will miss me when I am gone | |
30 | beggar maid . . . blanketing her the tree naked | |
31 | beneath live oaks remembering your life: its brevity | |
32 | between pages of autumn leaves one more obituary | |
33 | black creek swallows leaves nothing | |
34 | breaking dawn . . . he leaves home shoeless | |
35 | bright red leaves falling my pen dipped deep in sadness as their color fades | |
36 | brisk morning watching the fall montage she misses her train stop | |
37 | brisk walk detoured into childhood autumn leaves | |
38 | brisk wind raking leaves from my neighbor’s tree | |
39 | broken yellow shells nestled within woven leaves great horned owl watching | |
40 | broom in a corner leaves between unpicked apples her house is empty | |
41 | burning leaves how her nose crinkles | |
42 | canopy of oak leaves the sky through the spaces in my sky | |
43 | Chasing falling leaves Why are you avoiding me? Just out of my reach | |
44 | choosing leaves for my tiara . . . chemo | |
45 | counted into this year of loss frost nipped leaves | |
46 | crimson leaf floats winds swallow autumn’s bounty bare limbs pierce ink sky | |
47 | crimson leaves prints on pavement | |
48 | crunching through leaves — a childhood home around the corner | |
49 | daughter’s grad . . . it will soon be autumn for me | |
50 | dead leaves . . . on the branch of the tree the snake’s tail | |
51 | deep autumn — leaves still hold shades of summer | |
52 | deep jungle — the gift of leaf twirling on my lap | |
53 | deforestation the tightness in fists in each fallen leaf | |
54 | delta variant the ups and downs of windswept leaves | |
55 | dry leaves at my feet how many years dreams people all gone and going | |
56 | dry leaves rustling through the garden separate beds | |
57 | empty schoolyard . . . the whisper of leaves and long-gone friends | |
58 | entanglement of light north winds driving autumn leaves | |
59 | even though bright sun is shining early autumn almost all leaves fell | |
60 | fall back — still-attached leaves gain an hour | |
61 | fall . . . leaves fall upon leaves | |
62 | fallen leaves all the names I carry with me | |
63 | falling leaves he collects conkers for the son he never had | |
64 | falling leaves nobody knows which one next | |
65 | falling yellow leaves holes in the sky | |
66 | fast tread on falling those yellow crushed to corner wind’s countless rhythm | |
67 | feeling unique — a bevy of fallen leaves on the mottled path | |
68 | fifty years of marriage . . . flying above the lake autumn leaves | |
69 | filling the gaps in a class flying leaves | |
70 | first exam — beneath my feet slippery leaves | |
71 | first golden leaves silence is moving to a distant star | |
72 | first rain, trembling green — new love blossoms | |
73 | fog the fallen leaves on the knees of monument | |
74 | forest walk . . . stopping the rustle a falling leaf | |
75 | freshets of wind . . . a red maple slam dunks into a white plastic bag | |
76 | frosted leaves a couple dances in the therapy pool | |
77 | frozen dry branch — holding the weight of mistletoe leaves and a crow | |
78 | full moon on bare branches something rustles | |
79 | gentle breeze live dance of falling leaf | |
80 | golden leaf twists on the branch not ready to fall | |
81 | gone October . . . the last of the leaves yet to leave | |
82 | green yellow red maple leaves go to the other side | |
83 | He Leaves, Is Leaving Demands Action, Now Or Then Know I’m Missing You | |
84 | heat lightning the silver bottoms of poplar leaves | |
85 | her plum tree holding on to the last leave my unborn child | |
86 | herbarium leaves — life imprisonment instead of death | |
87 | hiking trail a rainbow of leaves | |
88 | homecoming . . . all over my old jeep confetti of leaves | |
89 | how the leaves leave no trace when blown from the tree | |
90 | i see my own life in the leaf you’re holding that leaves us with the wind | |
91 | impenetrable oak tree blankets forest floor the first shoot of spring | |
92 | in a woven cape with a golden fringe the weeping cherry | |
93 | Indian summer all the shades of cognac | |
94 | jacaranda blooms float to tire tracks, purple on mud. you have left. | |
95 | last autumn — the sparkle of the wedding ring lost in the leaves | |
96 | last letters in the postman’s quiver few rusty leaves | |
97 | last year’s nest — all the dead leaves full of life | |
98 | late November an oak leaf clinging without attachment | |
99 | leaf by leaf light leaves the linden tree | |
100 | Leaf by leaf of bamboo forest are dying out the pandas | |
101 | leafing through piles of recipes — wrapped sushi | |
102 | leafless trees — the same mom’s question if it’s spring | |
103 | leaves fall to the rhythm of nature and with tears | |
104 | leaves — foliage of closed chapters . . . new story | |
105 | leaves in the wind — in an old tattoo two hearts still entwined | |
106 | leaves just turning, she reads to her grandbaby for the first time | |
107 | leaves leaving limbs leafless reveal last summer’s nests | |
108 | leaves of red and gold embrace the fence row — the silence of robins | |
109 | leaves squashed by my boot a promise unfulfilled | |
110 | lifted leaves piles autumn wind stronger than my hernia | |
111 | lime leaves half green/ half yellow | |
112 | lingering grief I open up to the fallen leaves | |
113 | loneliness . . . just the crunch of fallen leaves | |
114 | losing her memories one by one autumn leaves | |
115 | losing you . . . the last leaf holding on to light | |
116 | maple leaf impressed in cement free fall | |
117 | maple leaf pressed in a book forever red | |
118 | maple leaves late autumn suncatchers | |
119 | mid-morning jog one-on-one with a falling leaf | |
120 | midwinter moonlight drips from the fig | |
121 | mid-winter walk among dried leaves and snowdrops surely, a wild plum | |
122 | moon’s bright sifting through tree’s leafy fingers | |
123 | morning stroll the feel in his fingers of an autumn leaf | |
124 | Moroccan wind palm leaves bow at call to prayer | |
125 | muffled quiet after the leaf blower tinnitus | |
126 | my raked pile blowing away memories of her | |
127 | my soul steps aside and the splendor of the leaves takes its place within | |
128 | nacoochee ablaze magnificent fall attire leaves of red, her hand | |
129 | new moon — tea leaves in my cup mean nothing | |
130 | oaks hang on last to let go leaves | |
131 | October breeze in my barren balcony a leaf’s final rest | |
132 | on the red carpet a row of skeletons as Autumn leaves | |
133 | one yellow leaf on the rear window of the car next to the green one | |
134 | our downward spirals the last aspen leaves and I mulching the garden | |
135 | pandemic winter the playground fills with dry leaves | |
136 | paper leaves fall inside senior center | |
137 | Perfect red leaf falls from pages of an old book . . . and from my memories | |
138 | piano notes — a leaf and the moon in the puddle | |
139 | pine leaves in every morning natural’s weight of the eyelids | |
140 | quilting . . . autumn leaves upon the grass | |
141 | remembrance day mother gathers her voice as father leaves | |
142 | riverbank the wind deposits a thousand copper leaves | |
143 | russet leaves . . . the rustle of moonlight in my yard | |
144 | rustling leaves the moon flits in and out | |
145 | season finale — the maple leaves take a bow | |
146 | seeing red after a long day fall maples | |
147 | shadows of falling leaves . . . we talk of old songs | |
148 | shortened daylight leaves cascade from tree to ground from orange to brown | |
149 | shrill notes sound in a flute’s spring song — a dried leaf clings | |
150 | sidelined on the porch autumn leaves | |
151 | still pond a yellow leaf falls on itself | |
152 | submerged in dried leaves beneath them earthy and warm childhood memories | |
153 | sun-sliced tree fallen leaves jog along a pathway | |
154 | sweeping leaves the red carpet ready for her homecoming | |
155 | symphony sound of a mountain stream and rustling leaves | |
156 | taalpatra . . . does the ink change a leaf’s tale? | |
157 | tea leaves transforming a woman Into butterfly | |
158 | the autumn wind becomes someone then leaves | |
159 | the colour red — you always favoured prolonged goodbyes | |
160 | the last leaf . . . free falling with the first snow | |
161 | the road to my father’s grave leaves under leaves | |
162 | the spring wind turns the last frozen leaf end of a chapter | |
163 | through the branches autumn sunrise leaves glisten | |
164 | too beautiful to rake autumn leaves | |
165 | Tree books full of colored days the wind blows leaf by leaf | |
166 | twigs sleep with budding leaves alarm set for May | |
167 | Vegetative leaves Convert into flowers — Ritually. | |
168 | war headlines . . . the tea leaves release a bitter flavor | |
169 | we put extra leaves in the dinning table holiday guests | |
170 | While gazing at bric-a-brac, Meteor. | |
171 | whirling leaves — the red rowan’s fruits covered in snow | |
172 | wind scent through the autumn leaves a child’s laughter | |
173 | winter branches my fingers reach for yours love always leaves | |
174 | winter brittle leaves in her old diary | |
175 | winter foliage — among so many bloody leaves only one green | |
176 | winter time the storm wakes up the leaves | |
177 | with or without me autumn leaves | |
178 | With the leaves falling on you — a new farewell | |
179 | withered leaves . . . all that remains of our dreams | |
180 | withered leaves once you used to say I’m beautiful |
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!
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vote hesitancy—
no haiku of interest
in the first fifty
November kukai entrants
submit lacklustre efforts
—Gloria Rhea Grante | 24 November 2021 1730PST