Last Chance to Vote in the September 2021 THF Monthly Kukai
This month’s theme:
volunteer
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 lone cloud shares our togetherness . . . mountain trail | |
2 | a sea of tents zephyr ripples water after the typhoon | |
3 | A swim in the sea SMACK of Man O’War feeding Wet suit protects | |
4 | a thump of clods fall against the the coffin volunteer gravedigger | |
5 | adult literacy class he reads to his son “take at bedtime” | |
6 | after the accident more volunteers wait to donate blood | |
7 | after the earthquake a tsunami of volunteers | |
8 | again this year in the same corner wild rose | |
9 | animal sanctuary — slowly healing the old cat and i | |
10 | ashes as last bucket pass my neighbor’s hands | |
11 | blood out of life battling for free hand yours ever ready | |
12 | book sale volunteer for our Catholic grade school — the stories we omit | |
13 | broken heart serving broken home . . . soup kitchen | |
14 | cerulean skies rescuers climb to the nest three birds lost their way | |
15 | covid volunteer . . . crying on his own shoulder | |
16 | daisies she approves with her eyes | |
17 | death charge the engaged captain volunteers | |
18 | dementia care we hang the pictures from her calendar | |
19 | dinner date — the waiter babysits my daughter | |
20 | Don’t try to stop me I’m going on this mission Never to return | |
21 | Earth Day . . . school children planting trees on the downhill | |
22 | falling together feels lighter | |
23 | flood warning . . . a beaver colony building a dam | |
24 | flowers without bees . . . where are granny’s tales? | |
25 | for grandpa she donates her braid to a child with cancer | |
26 | garnishing each plate with eye contact and a smile — homeless shelter | |
27 | generation ship volunteers’ one-way flight seeking a new world | |
28 | Groceries on the porch. Each and every morning. Invisible angel. | |
29 | heart aflame firefighter | |
30 | her name no longer on the list hospice calls | |
31 | her passion for finding furever homes . . . stray animals | |
32 | how shall we begin? my library shares the clue . . . love poetry first . | |
33 | impatient queue I still smile as I offer Prasada | |
34 | In between stories A new friend does not yet know My mate took his life | |
35 | in plain blood of dead young people blue rain | |
36 | is a worker bee a volunteer? I don’t think so | |
37 | is lost while exploring the forest scouts become savior gods | |
38 | Labor Day — I freely offer doing nothing | |
39 | little lips part as you crack a frown chrysalis — laughter’s wings flutter | |
40 | lone wolf volunteer the glint of a blade in an outstretched hand | |
41 | meal delivery — her praise soars with the blackbirds | |
42 | medical dilemma — modern pain killer as good as placebo | |
43 | memorial plaque — fallen volunteers already in the new state | |
44 | missed lunch the dirty dishes keep coming | |
45 | my pen volunteers to write the truth | |
46 | needle exchange desperate reflections my lost child | |
47 | neighbours too enjoy the gourd harvest . . . a volunteer seed | |
48 | Nibble on my skin Maybe aliens exist Nibble on my skin | |
49 | not invited . . . flower sent fragrance to my room | |
50 | old age home . . . warming up hearts a visitor’s carol | |
51 | On the front line for days over Fukushima thick poisonous smoke | |
52 | popping up in the vegetable garden red maple seedlings | |
53 | post 9/11 every night volunteers cry themselves to sleep | |
54 | preparing meals mother’s work never ends silent volunteer | |
55 | Putting a smile on those children with dull eyes | |
56 | Red Cross shop — keeper asks me to volunteer, not just donate | |
57 | refuge her smile speaks all languages | |
58 | rising storm the sudden surge of volunteers | |
59 | sanitary flights — a butterfly passes the barbed wire | |
60 | spring thunder — the girl twin comes out first | |
61 | springful she knows all the the clinical trial but still . . . | |
62 | still forget-me-nots the ward’s grandchild bends over the volunteer’s grave | |
63 | summer festival a volunteer cricket closing the season | |
64 | Sunday walk — dogs from the shelter run after the butterflies | |
65 | sunrise — I am teaching a blind child to count the petals | |
66 | the buzz in senior home teaching WhatsApp video call | |
67 | the buzz of the street — I’m lending my eyes to the blind woman | |
68 | the prayer shawl knitted by anonymous hands | |
69 | the rose bush blooms in winter compost carrot volunteers | |
70 | The warmth on your face Keeps me going forever For a better world | |
71 | This gift I have is So precious and limited I give you my time | |
72 | to the tree trunk the sunlight volunteers its last drops | |
73 | Toiling nine to five Yet I’m still Unemployed | |
74 | tomatoes more growing this year than planted | |
75 | uncultivated bellflower fitting right in | |
76 | under the glare of the sun we sweat, swelter, harvest the fruits of July | |
77 | vaccination centre — I learn to smile with my eyes | |
78 | volunteer acts of reciprocal kindness forward pay | |
79 | volunteer . . . the only position for which i’m now suited | |
80 | volunteer tomato trying to blend in with the roses | |
81 | volunteering — empty eyes hands grasping air | |
82 | volunteering hands open to welcome and donate | |
83 | volunteers a neighbor’s wildflowers leap the fence | |
84 | volunteers’ hearts — full of love an animal shelter | |
85 | wanting to vanish the magician asks for a willing volunteer | |
86 | wintry winds . . . the warmth of helping at the dog shelter | |
87 | woof woof me help he licks plates clean and I load the dishwasher | |
88 | Working willingly No expectations for self Love in action | |
89 | young volunteers at the last bonfire first loves |
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!
