THF Monthly Kukai Voting Ballot — August 2025
This month’s theme:
light
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 baby’s laughter Her cloudy mood lightens First smile in a week | |
2 | a blade of light scanning the night sea waves — call me Ishmael | |
3 | a dull day pierced by light — sharpening pencils | |
4 | a suitor’s kiss endlessly bowed by dew | |
5 | a waiting room from dawn to dusk the waiting . . . | |
6 | a whole lake of moon — that is all | |
7 | a wood fence glows in red gold light magic hour | |
8 | after a long night a sunny clear day Now | |
9 | alfalfa harvest . . . square bales outline a glowing prairie | |
10 | all the sky on my hands . . . light rain | |
11 | all this darkness still the moon’s silent light | |
12 | amber light slips over the edge of the world I fill my cup | |
13 | April light sprawls on the front varanda till September | |
14 | as western clouds grow lighter the rain falls harder | |
15 | autumn twilight his trembling hands buttoning the shirt | |
16 | awash in morning apples, birds the sky and I | |
17 | bat calls . . . a circus light sweeps across the night sky | |
18 | before dawn the night burns quietly — light learning pain | |
19 | before first light the sound of light rain | |
20 | behind each light conundrum | |
21 | between showers the ladybird’s wings catch the sun | |
22 | black out curtains on the windows light pours in under the door | |
23 | blind date one firefly lights another | |
24 | blinded by the light two hedgehogs crossing the road passing a flat toad | |
25 | blinding me awake your light on the bedroom wall my daily sign | |
26 | blue her lip through an iced glass | |
27 | blue pink purple light watercolor sky fading as twilight arrives | |
28 | Born to run, I am At sunrise, dash out the door Breathe and rays, merging | |
29 | breaking dawn some shadows still linger on the closed door | |
30 | bright moonlight wearing the shirt of death still an ascetic | |
31 | bright stormy light beams transforms my inner aura a stone stands alone | |
32 | cedar waxwings soar towards the setting sun light melts | |
33 | childless what the silver lining would do? | |
34 | christmas lights mirror her grave candles | |
35 | clearing clouds sunlight puddles in the potholes | |
36 | closed doors countless dreams the beggar’s light | |
37 | cold at dawn — the moonlight frozen into icicles | |
38 | crosswalk . . . the long light of summer | |
39 | dandelion clock seeds blow away in light breeze fulfilling wishes | |
40 | dappled snap a staccato of shutter clicks | |
41 | dark window — through the needle mom passes a thread of light | |
42 | darkened room a pale moonbeam enters through the keyhole | |
43 | daughter blowing kisses to fireflies | |
44 | dawn the flapping of wings again | |
45 | Dawn cracks A small victory Black out blind | |
46 | daylight salve season affect disorder on pause | |
47 | daylight savings an extra hour before he sundowns | |
48 | destiny star’s light lured me in one poetic beat | |
49 | driveway puddle reflects an oily plagiarized moon | |
50 | Driving at dusk — mountains turning blue, the road disappears | |
51 | early morning light birds chattering starting day conversation | |
52 | early morning light my work begins piecing of words together | |
53 | embers glow amber an elegy for our evening | |
54 | even neon fish even neon fish bombed sky monochrome | |
55 | fading light a scarecrow grows useless | |
56 | fading light . . . down the street children’s hide-and-seek | |
57 | Father’s Day — relighting candle the nth time | |
58 | feather light stretching her wings mum’s first quilt | |
59 | finding the way back home first light | |
60 | fireflies highlighting her chemo wig | |
61 | first light a bee flies in the shape of cherry blossoms | |
62 | first light on blanket’s fold I weep | |
63 | first light on my veranda scent of daphne | |
64 | first light the child blinded by war can see again | |
65 | first light the newborn’s weight in my arms | |
66 | first light the startle reflex of a newborn | |
67 | first light — a refugee child peeks through the tent | |
68 | first light — in stone buddha’s palm a red maple leaf | |
69 | first light . . . traveling light dandelion | |
70 | first light on pink yarn the girlhood in me | |
71 | first light reflected on silver silo domes coffee brewing downstairs | |
72 | first love the constellations in your eyes | |
73 | flashlight underneath the blanket romance chapter | |
74 | fog bound stones crows uncreak dirges to the dying light | |
75 | foreboding light buzzards cover the old feed mill | |
76 | fresh paint — my house becomes the sturgeon moon | |
77 | from light to dark the long summer day ends the day of your death | |
78 | glowing jellyfish wakened by boat hull — night storm | |
79 | green arrow in the turning lane four red cars in a row | |
80 | grey light mother’s girlish smile twinkles | |
81 | guiding me back to you — moonlit lake | |
82 | guiding me in times of turmoil the old lighthouse | |
83 | haloed moon a blade of brightness in the monk’s eyes | |
84 | harvest moon creeping across the field (b)light | |
85 | heat lightning lights up the night sky — distant rumbles | |
86 | her goldfish in the spotlight . . . show & tell | |
87 | high noon the cleft between the buttocks without a shadow | |
88 | how humility glows in the dark . . . moonflower | |
89 | I was dying to be born again first light | |
90 | in the deep night the light is blind like me | |
91 | in the light of her light moon bathing | |
92 | in the light of dawn is this the same person as last night? | |
93 | Inside the heart, remembrance emerges, eternal longing, light. | |
94 | its delicacy through iris petals sunlight | |
95 | just before dawn the light in a robin’s song | |
96 | Katydids, crickets sing us to sleep — our sonic Perseid shower | |
97 | Kodak lawsuit to own a shade of yellow setting sun | |
98 | lamp glow on the chair she left | |
99 | late for movie two iPhones gliding between the rows | |
100 | Late March afternoon — I’ve already forgotten to turn on the light. | |
101 | late night vigil a widow’s grief flickers in candle light | |
102 | light cut through the darkness open the shutters! | |
103 | light on a beam or in a beer can lifts | |
104 | light contrast the irregular spots in her mammogram | |
105 | Light dispels darkness; But darkness cannot dispel light. Peaceful victory! | |
106 | Light years away, Great grandma’s genes Cast a shadow in my eyes. | |
107 | lighthouses argue with the seagulls about who guides best | |
108 | lightless mine hangs the caged yellow sentry, senses impending demise | |
109 | lightning strike how my wet feet feel the heat | |
110 | lux aeternam there are so many to mourn and not enough tears | |
111 | man can split the atom but a moth can read the stars | |
112 | measuring how much light is left food rations | |
113 | mending fishing nets mating call of the osprey dawns first ray of light | |
114 | meteor flash we all look up from our phones | |
115 | midnight buffet the bloated toad by the garden light | |
116 | moonlight dinner my ancestors to me twenty floors | |
117 | Morning, after rain; Drops suspended, silver-speared, As the light lifted. | |
118 | mother’s lullaby . . . from a shooting star a streak of light | |
119 | mountain well water wooden bucket; light touches drawn from past snowfalls | |
120 | neon light flickers dusky thoughts of forest gale moon-kissed fireflies | |
121 | night skinny-dip chased out of the water by someone’s flashlight | |
122 | night sky — the wings of an insect a topographic map | |
123 | nightfall remains of the day in a solar lamp | |
124 | no cattail the same light snow | |
125 | northern sunlight — thinned beret of autumn fuji | |
126 | old duet sunlight and shade at day’s end | |
127 | old poem — hard to read the letters at twilight | |
128 | Old town Limited street lights dying | |
129 | packing light (a weeklong spelunking trip) packing: light | |
130 | Path by the river Still wet from morning drizzle. Soft light on your face. | |
131 | postcard from heaven . . . sunlight through a shedding tree | |
132 | postpartum depression all the dark deposited behind the flowerpot | |
133 | power outage — in the lighthouse fireflies on duty | |
134 | rays of sunlight break through the clouds golden treasure | |
135 | red light — we come to a dead stop at the graveyard | |
136 | reflecting all light . . . white . . . camellia | |
137 | reflection of dark lenses, trying to figure out who | |
138 | revival house he lights two fires with one match | |
139 | rowing a boat through ripples of light summer river | |
140 | she by the wine light friction of her patchouli glass breaks, stars collide | |
141 | she cuddles up to me anxiously after lightning with nonchalance to the catdoor | |
142 | silver hair freshly cut and dyed fake wisdom | |
143 | sitting in sunlight — a fly rubs his tiny legs she sits on my knee. | |
144 | sky blossoms — roman candles scatter seeds of light | |
145 | Slender shards of light spill over the horizon a new day | |
146 | slow blues in the hibiscus bell at sunset | |
147 | smoky light strolling through the ever stirring forest | |
148 | spotlight — stage dust particles dancing | |
149 | spring morning the lake slowly fills with laughter | |
150 | spring sunlight mother’s face a pond of rising lotuses | |
151 | star by star dusk fills up the still lake | |
152 | streetlight flickers in his cold hands a warming penny | |
153 | summer dawn in the old temple bell a glint of Nirvana | |
154 | summer yellow fruit chestnut tree stars spread way across sky | |
155 | sun-kissed grandma insists on long sleeves | |
156 | sun-up the twinkle in a paddling pool | |
157 | sunflowers nod busy with bees evening’s last light | |
158 | sunlight dancing on retreating coastal waters — glistening Stillness | |
159 | Sunlight on the wilted flowers — rain soon . . . | |
160 | sunrise throwing a blanket over darkness | |
161 | sunset a bent shadow reaches shore | |
162 | Sunsets wake up sleepy shades | |
163 | The candle burns bright The light of love flows through it Slow burning my heart | |
164 | the dark downs drawn into a glowworm’s orbit | |
165 | the dark side of human nature bombs’ lights | |
166 | the gift of light an opportunity to go to college | |
167 | the light behind the summer roof father’s eyesight | |
168 | the pale light of morning — the sound of the garbage truck wakes up the street | |
169 | the summer sky even among the ruins finds the lost | |
170 | The sun so bright Briefly blinding Before the crash | |
171 | this love suddenly her first cry | |
172 | this moment in a single drop of dew my reflection | |
173 | threads of sunlight flawlessly interwoven — you’ve caught me, spider! | |
174 | through the haze your light emerging | |
175 | Times Square — a Midnight Moment shrinks the night | |
176 | tiny country town ambient light its only draw | |
177 | towards the light . . . leaving all I have behind | |
178 | trout stream I’m in it for the glitter | |
179 | trying to clear the darkest cloud in my sky a beam | |
180 | twilight . . . a tired day rests in my empty nest | |
181 | twilight years life in real time | |
182 | unintended words sudden spark over the darks side of his mind | |
183 | washing dishes — the frolic of fawns in early morning light | |
184 | waxing moon the moth strains to reach the kitchen light | |
185 | What lays Beneath fractured Sunset light? | |
186 | white moon over the calm sea the light to eternity | |
187 | windy night — only the dandelion’s lamp lighting the hut | |
188 | without you all the morning glories will go stray | |
189 | wolf moon reflects off pond’s surface and several pairs of eyes |
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!
Comments (5)
Comments are closed.
Olga,
If you return to the top of the post, there is a form to fill out. From the top on down, you can put in the number of the haiku you prefer in each of five slots. The Haiku you rank as the best will receive 5 points, your second favorite will receive 4 points, and so on (3, 2, and then 1 point). To make sure your votes count, you fill in your name, email address, and then you should get a SUBMIT button. But that, and the screen will say something like “your votes are accepted.”
I hope this helps.
thank you Nancy for sharing that with me. Let’s see if I understand correctly….so I can vote for more than just one haiku poem…if I like 7 poems and think they all deserve first spot (5 points) then I can list them? Gosh, I’ve been doing it wrong all along….only giving one poem each slot (and that drove me crazy). Just verify this for me if I understand correctly now? thank you for your time.
Hi, Olga, sorry to intrude, but Nan may not see your reply.
No, it’s just one vote for each slot. You can only vote for a total of 5 poems just as you have been doing. 😊
Eavonka, thank you. I will continue in the way I was doing it initially.
How do you vote? I read, make my picks…the picks are the haiku that make my heart go PING. Then I leave my notes and go to bed. Next day I read and wonder if my heart PINGS were real or naught. Some were, new PINGS came into view. I leave, go have a cup of tea, listen to some soft jazz….go back to my Kukai Voting Ballot, make some more decisions then cast my vote. BUT, how do you vote?