THF Monthly Kukai — May 2025

 
 
Welcome to the THF Monthly Kukai.

This month’s theme:
white
 
 
 
Note: Anonymity is an essential part of any kukai. Please respect this to offer the reader (and voter) the opportunity to choose only the poem.

The THF Kukai Overview

A kukai is a (usually quite casual) poetry contest. The administrator of the kukai (that’s us) assigns a theme for a given writing period and posts to Troutswirl (The Haiku Foundation blog) on the THF site, which is then redirected outward through our various media outlets. Poets write work to this theme during the allotted time and submit it to the administrator. The work submitted is gathered into an anonymous roster and posted to Troutswirl (The Haiku Foundation blog) for public viewing. At that time all participating poets and other interested readers may vote for their favorites. Votes are tallied and the results made public. The top winners will be acknowledged each month, and offered their choice of prizes from a list compiled by the Foundation. Please remember that everyone who votes is a winner — the process of choosing your personal favorites is not just fun, but also one of the best ways to improve your own haiku practice!

Results of Last Month’s THF Kukai

theme: eggplant

In April there were 147 submissions from thirty-one countries across six continents.
Ninety-two voters casting ballots determined the following results.

First Prize
 
eggplants ripening
in the kitchen garden . . .
eviction notice
     — Milan Rajkumar (52 points - 5; 4; 2; 2; 1)
 
There is warmth and comfort in the first two lines of this haiku. I envision a well-tended garden that provides food for the family. It takes time and effort and care before vegetables are ready to harvest — eggplants typically don’t ripen until end of summer — so the quiet twist in the last line is devastatingly effective. Anyone who has struggled to make ends meet, to provide for a family, will understand how dispiriting it is to have to begin again. I admire the poet’s restraint in that last line.
 
Second Prize
 
Kharkiv dawn —
bordered by battlefields
a field of eggplant
     — Goran Gatalica (50 points - 5; 4; 3; 0; 0)
 
Kharkiv, Ukraine’s second largest city, is less than 20 miles from Russia and has been a battleground for some time. This haiku reminds us that, even in the midst of war, dawn comes and vegetables are planted and harvested. The word choice is particularly effective: “bordered” brings to mind the proximity of Russia without saying It, and “field” echoes “battlefields” even as it introduces the idea of cultivating the land. A thoughtful look beyond the horrors of war to the continuity of life.
 
Third Prize
 
bedtime story
how the eggplant
lost its yolk
     — Mike Fainzilber (47 points - 2; 5; 4; 2; 1)
 
What a delight this is! Bedtime stories and first books are when we are introduced to wordplay as children. I can still remember the thrill when I realized that words can be silly and fun. When I read this poem, I can imagine the faces and giggles when the young listeners get the pun. Well done.
 
 
Honorable Mentions
 
lost in translation
Grandma's recipe
for aubergines
     — Tracy Davidson
 
I love the premise of this. Treasured recipes handed down to us are never quite the same as when they were prepared by our grandmothers or aunts or other loved ones. Also, I think when we’re introduced to a food by a name other than one we know it by, we sense it differently. Is an aubergine just an eggplant by another name? I think not.
 
eggplant at dinner
the thick layer of makeup
around mother's eyes
     — Mirela Brailean
 
Seemingly unrelated words can trigger difficult memories. Here, the dark purple sheen of eggplant calls to mind a woman’s ineffective attempt to cover bruises. Because the poet chose to end with “mother’s eyes,” the reader focuses, not on the image of bruises, but on the pain in her eyes.
 
farmers’ market
bruised hands the color
of her eggplants
     — Richard Straw
 
As we age, we bruise more easily, and here I see the hands of a woman with some years on her — harvesting her vegetables, lifting crates, putting the produce out for display at the market. An alternate reading is that the staining comes from handling so many eggplants. In either case, these are the hands of a worker, who absorbs life’s daily knocks and continues.
 
late sun on the soil
one last dark teardrop clings
autumn wind
     — George Galcsik
 
This haiku is an enigma to me. The images speak of loss or leaving — late sun, last teardrop, and an autumnal wind. But I am not sure what is going on. Has a tear fallen on an eggplant? And if so, what is the cause of the tears?

Beverly Acuff Momoi is THF Monthly Kukai Commentator. She is an award-winning poet and author of how the wind sighs and Lifting the Towhee’s Song. From 2019 to 2021 Beverly served as a panelist for the Touchstone Distinguished Book Awards.

Writing for The Haiku Foundation Monthly Kukai

On the first day of each month The Haiku Foundation will announce the kukai theme for that month. This theme should be the topic of your poem, and may be stated (by using the theme word or words) or implied. Form may be traditional (three-line, 5-7-5) or free (various numbers of lines and/or syllables). Season words (kigo) may or may not be used at the poet’s discretion. A poet may submit one poem per theme. All poems must be the original, unpublished work of the author. In order to maintain the spirit and fairness of the kukai, a poem that has appeared anywhere with its author’s name cannot be allowed for submission.

Please use the Kukai submission form below to enter your poem, and then press Submit to send your entry. No other submissions will be recognized or honored. Once a poem is submitted it cannot be revised. All poems must be signed (that is, no “anonymous” poems will be accepted, and the Submit button will not be available until both Name, Email, and Place of Residence fields are filled in). Poets will not receive acknowledgment of their submissions. Poems will be accepted from the announcement of the theme through midnight of the 15th of that month. All poets are eligible to participate. Administrators of the kukai are ineligible to submit poems. Your submission form to us should look something like this:

line one
followed by line two
and then line three

or

this poem is all in one line

or

            jjjjjjjjjjj
kkkkkkkkkk
                    lll
   mmmmm

[all lines right-justified]

If your poem has special formatting requirements you should note them as in the third example above.

Good luck, and have fun!