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Christopher Bays

Christopher Bays

Born: in Otterbach, Germany
Resides: Beavercreek, Ohio, USA

Christopher Bays lives on the outskirts of an Audubon-sanctioned reserve in Ohio. He works as a Professor at Clark State College, teaching English composition, literature, and creative writing. Prior to teaching, he was a business owner and world traveler. His poetry is influenced by these travels and his experiences growing up as a military dependent in Germany, Turkey, and elsewhere. In 2017 and 2020 his poetry won 1st place for Best Unpublished Haibun through the Haiku Society of America. His poems have also won other national and international awards and have been published here and abroad. Various anthologies include his work, such as The Red Moon Press of English-Language Haiku (2017-2019) and Red Moon Press’s Contemporary Haibun 16 (2021).

Awards and Other Honors:

An (Cottage) Prize, The Genjuan International Haibun Contest, Japan, 2018; Second Place, Robert Spiess Memorial Haiku Awards 2018; Honourable Mention, The Vancouver Cherry Blossom Haiku Invitational 2018; Honourable Mention, The Irish Society International Haiku Competition 2017; Special Mention, British Haiku Society Awards 2016; Honorable Mention, The Key West Heritage House, 14th Annual Robert Frost Poetry Contest 2008.

Books Published:

edge of suburbia - haibun, haiku & monoku, Red Moon Press, August 2021.

Selected Work
 
flapping police tape . . .
snow fills
a kiddie pool
 
a tissue 
stained with blood
cherry blossoms
 
 
 
billowing skirts
by a soldier's grave
autumn deepens
 
memories of a memory misplaced lilacs
 
 
 
twilight
the caged silverback
peels a pumpkin
 
the moon
seems larger tonight . . .
an unplucked peach
 
 

Credits:

"flapping police tape" - 2018 Robert Spiess Memorial Haiku Award, Second Place; "a tissue" - Modern Haiku vol. 40:1 winter-spring 2009; “billowing skirts” – The Heron’s Nest Vol. X, No. 1: March, 2008; “memories” – Bones-journal for contemporary haiku No 12 March, 2017; “twilight”- Acorn: a journal of contemporary haiku - Issue #20, Spring, 2008; “the moon” – Frogpond Vol. 31 No. 3, Fall 2008.

Additional Reading:

Despite Rising Seas - Haibun

children play in a field. I feel safe, for a moment,
behind my sun-dappled window, listening to their laughter.
Despite nuclear proliferation, my daughter is asleep
on the sofa, clenching a book of natural wonders.
Her breath ebbs and flows. Which unsullied forest
will open in her dreams today?

far-flung smog
the foal gallops
toward the mare

Credit: “Despite Rising Seas” received 1st place from the Haiku Society of America Haibun Awards 2017 and was republished in HSA Website for Haibun Awards 2017.

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