Last Chance to Vote in the September 2020 THF Monthly Kukai
This month’s theme:
uncertainty
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 black hole in this pandemic | |
| 2 | a fawn sniffs morning air squeaky porch chair | |
| 3 | a great falling wave your armchair at dusk, landless bird | |
| 4 | a lily by the road shall I pick it or shall I go | |
| 5 | a red leaf clings to spring promise . . . viral winds | |
| 6 | adrift counting faces in the clouds | |
| 7 | after she leaves I wonder what I meant by that | |
| 8 | after years the thrill of her hands — friendship or love? | |
| 9 | alien parts drift on a black and white screen — the first ultrasound | |
| 10 | all the cranes over the border war headlines | |
| 11 | at least half the reduced plank ding dong | |
| 12 | At the end of the trail, the beginning of the fog Alone man | |
| 13 | authentic Chinese restaurant a fortune cookie I can’t read | |
| 14 | Autumn birds gather, Is it time to go south yet? Shall kids go to school? | |
| 15 | autumn leave winds in every direction | |
| 16 | autumn sunset a crossroad takes shape | |
| 17 | autumn wind she flips the calendar . . . cancer ward | |
| 18 | autumnal equinox relationship at the tipping point | |
| 19 | bands of Autumn light shadowing through pines uncertainty at dusk | |
| 20 | bare olive tree . . . the sense of uncertainty of a sunset | |
| 21 | bluejay whisper I’m not sure if he wants this baby | |
| 22 | bombs fall on my green youth no direction home | |
| 23 | bumper crop . . . composting the fruit of my labour | |
| 24 | certain leaders leading the rest of us to an uncertain future | |
| 25 | changing my mind for the umpteenth time — whistling wind | |
| 26 | coastal walk — the same sand under new feet | |
| 27 | Covid 19 the uncertainty of a boundless sea | |
| 28 | curtains in the last chance saloon a gambler draws | |
| 29 | daisies in the wind does he love me or not | |
| 30 | daisy petals paying this bill or that one | |
| 31 | damselfly hovers just above the blossom indecision | |
| 32 | Dandelions fur balls — My Vulnerability exposed to Million ways. | |
| 33 | decision day the wiped mirror clouds again | |
| 34 | deep winter end certain without my being aware | |
| 35 | desirous looks my husband no longer aware | |
| 36 | Doors shut, open, shut World conundrum continues Will virus relent? | |
| 37 | downsizing — the quails in a cage stare at the queue | |
| 38 | Easter morning . . . they might be redbirds singing Savior, Savior | |
| 39 | ebb tide the randomness of beach pebbles | |
| 40 | Eldorado’s dream — in the darkness of the abyss the peaceful shelter | |
| 41 | election year what happens either way | |
| 42 | empty days . . . stars filling up my soul | |
| 43 | end of life directives the core of a star | |
| 44 | erasing any doubt it’s spring blackbird song | |
| 45 | Estrangement winter Do trees stripped of leaves still live Shame of nakedness | |
| 46 | farmer’s last bet . . . the drilling continues another hundred feet | |
| 47 | fever pitch what will my daughter inherit | |
| 48 | field of daisies he loves me he loves me not | |
| 49 | first cicada do you still hesitate or . . . just start protesting | |
| 50 | fresh pencils shoes squeak six feet apart | |
| 51 | Gnawing hunger During times of pandemic. He trades his mask. | |
| 52 | halfway across the squirrel pauses election day | |
| 53 | hanging noose plea for mercy — decision awaited | |
| 54 | hanging on all our heads the dead line for pandemic exit. | |
| 55 | Heisenberg put on his pants one leg at a time was it always right? | |
| 56 | her arthritic hand caresses the family album . . . this uncertainty | |
| 57 | his terminal cough waking me every morning for 35 years . . . | |
| 58 | hot night listening for the creak of wicket | |
| 59 | how long before our water cooler chats . . . work from home | |
| 60 | hurricane warning — girl hugs her teddy with uncertain eyes | |
| 61 | I am waiting you in the cherry alley refugee | |
| 62 | if a sparrow flies into the poem, who am i to stop it | |
| 63 | kaleidoscope . . . her eyes flip around the patterns | |
| 64 | lapachos in bloom — the result of the swab does not arrive . . . | |
| 65 | large slug crosses path I wince at its ugliness who am I to say? | |
| 66 | limb o’ the tree rooks rock with the wind | |
| 67 | listening | |
| 68 | lockdown — striving to prove to God that I exist | |
| 69 | longest night I dither over your DNR form | |
| 70 | loves me loves me not I skip one petal | |
| 71 | marshmallow now or l a t e r — decision trees | |
| 72 | midwinter evening the confusion locked in Mama’s eyes | |
| 73 | mirage in the desert camels carrying water | |
| 74 | morning dark like night pyrocumulonimbus clouds turn the sky deep orange | |
| 75 | moving forward — I lift one foot and keep it hanging | |
| 76 | my wife says no cars coming I still peek | |
| 77 | never lost my best friend imagination | |
| 78 | new virus the time it spends figuring us out | |
| 79 | nine lives counting on her to say when | |
| 80 | not knowing if lockdown will keep us together | |
| 81 | not placed in just passing through . . . flowers change | |
| 82 | nothing certain . . . the pupils drawing peace pigeons | |
| 83 | old love letters all the men I did not know | |
| 84 | on the edge of twilight sleep the surgeon’s words | |
| 85 | on the hills shadows wander up sundown | |
| 86 | oncology . . . ‘it’s not good’ he murmurs his eyes saying more | |
| 87 | one word may be too much autumn wind | |
| 88 | pacing back and forth — thinking of the future and those hard days ahead | |
| 89 | picnic in the park — even the pigeons keep their distance | |
| 90 | playing God with nature . . . weather news | |
| 91 | raised awareness a butterfly’s hit and miss | |
| 92 | red, amber, green: all three blinking at the crossroads | |
| 93 | reggae bar rhythms freeing me of dread | |
| 94 | results day . . . clouds shape-shift on the horizon | |
| 95 | ruled shadows cutting leaves paved valley announcing autumns in displaced summer | |
| 96 | scattered look whitewashed floor of uncertainty | |
| 97 | severe drought wears farmers out . . . For Sale signs gather dust | |
| 98 | so many questions about our life here on Earth wise choices, blue sky | |
| 99 | suddenly quiet even the highest leaf so still | |
| 100 | summer’s last firefly but i keep watch — crow still cawing | |
| 101 | swallows again . . . from afar . . . other migrants | |
| 102 | tarantula web . . . the uncertainty of nearby lives | |
| 103 | the hospital bed Is this it? The sureness of things passing as things always have. The sound of a door opening — a dog’s bark | |
| 104 | the maybe or maybe not of life — dandelion fluff | |
| 105 | the moon hangs barely onto the shadow of the scarecrow | |
| 106 | The morning’s news: Headlines collapse into black heaps Like fainting goats | |
| 107 | the name of a nameless flower — air of rain | |
| 108 | The sky is gray Before the door of autumn Umbrella folded | |
| 109 | the wait butterflies or knots? | |
| 110 | through lockdown did I grow old or did I grow lazy | |
| 111 | through this floating world my wondering life passes — will the moon go too? | |
| 112 | time of uncertainty — the past more and more brighter | |
| 113 | tonight she is less specific . . . someone else too | |
| 114 | uncertain path — abandoned in rain wedding veil | |
| 115 | uncertain times in her fairy garden a gnome goes fishing | |
| 116 | Uncertainty . . . being still still being | |
| 117 | UNCERTAINTY In the land of mortals, Lord’s answers are left unheard and sands are ceaselessly shifting. | |
| 118 | uncertainty is when my Black life might matter time will not tell us | |
| 119 | visit to a ZOO — I hear opening the cage | |
| 120 | waiting room . . . the shape of a prayer between her lips | |
| 121 | weather forecast the deep of her thought still uncertain | |
| 122 | wedding day — is love really enough | |
| 123 | wedding vows where was she between I and do? | |
| 124 | what next the planet groans | |
| 125 | what’s left of the path still autumn | |
| 126 | when will they be blue again, the skies | |
| 127 | white night if not snowman maybe a beggar | |
| 128 | whooza good boy? the purrs of grandpa’s plush doggie | |
| 129 | wildfire — the monsters in the closet have fled | |
| 130 | winter’s grail the dormant rose appears dead | |
| 131 | withered rose — the uncertainty of sky on my shadow | |
| 132 | you make me mine deeper for courage — deep bows uncertainty |
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!
