THF Monthly Kukai Voting Ballot June 2020
This month’s theme:
reopening
Note: Voting procedures have changed. Please see new instructions below.
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 bud must ache before it blossoms | |
2 | a cuckoo’s cry – will I ever cease to reopen this wound | |
3 | a hum of tires as the sunning lions leave the road | |
4 | a humblebee where I left her the closed tulip | |
5 | a love affair drawn to the dark moonflowers | |
6 | a sudden blow bending the grain lovers exposed | |
7 | after months apart my friend howls in joy old-growth forest | |
8 | after the darkness the day reopening | |
9 | after the rain a snail moves gently among raindrops | |
10 | again i open to the pressed violet mother’s cookbook | |
11 | an innocent day the windpipe contracts into blue serge | |
12 | ants in a queue s-l-o-w s-l-o-w s-l-o-w reopening | |
13 | around the world a slow dance for four seasons | |
14 | as if nothing’s changed morning glories | |
15 | at last opening my arms again to hold you | |
16 | back to the school my girlfriend’s smile behind the mask | |
17 | bar reopening – no one close enough to talk to | |
18 | bee’s delight dawn reopening crocus flowers | |
19 | birth and death – pear blossoms in spring reopening | |
20 | blooming crocuses . . . the lawnmower makes a u-turn | |
21 | borders closed we reopen to one another | |
22 | busy day I keep opening the door the guests keep closing | |
23 | camera in hand waiting for butterfly wings to reopen | |
24 | cones slowly being shoved to unite the bustling sound of two closed cities | |
25 | corona virus . . . a child’s fear school’s reopening | |
26 | COVID 19 again leaves unfurl in the cup | |
27 | creak of hinges and bones on the trail again | |
28 | finally a pizza I taste Italy in its brick oven crust | |
29 | finally a sign ‘we are open again’ – behind his mask wanly smiling he buys her white lilies | |
30 | first blossom the sonogram detects a heartbeat | |
31 | first flurry of snow hidden treasure found in last winter’s coat pocket | |
32 | for months they’ve been closed – mouths glued like chrysalises; now winged, soft-beating. | |
33 | from across the room grandmother’s greeting namaste | |
34 | green shoots on a blackened trunk . . . eucalypt sunrise | |
35 | healthy at home growing lettuce from lettuce | |
36 | her last letter – reading the silence | |
37 | high street bookshop spaced out smelling new works | |
38 | hopping out to water the harebells (car-bun offset) | |
39 | industry of bees . . . hotel staff arrange patio furniture | |
40 | keys drill backwards and forwards time running on sweat | |
41 | lotus at dawn . . . piece by piece i unfurl, whole | |
42 | masked and gloved she walks into the store I wait in the getaway car | |
43 | mon Dieu! and Poirot, mon ami reopens the case | |
44 | mother’s lost love nature’s annual rebirth breeding resentment | |
45 | mountain night angry buzz of a bee trapped in the lily | |
46 | national anthem a white cop takes a knee on a black man’s neck | |
47 | nude beach reopening his double take | |
48 | old suitcase trying on the memories | |
49 | open pipe – the poor find a new home | |
50 | opening my heart to the possibilities – peony flower | |
51 | opossum, too exits its sheltering abode to cross the green lawn | |
52 | out of den . . . the fear of hedgehog at first touch | |
53 | peony blossom how she opens up to him inch by inch | |
54 | phase one reopening rejoice toilet paper! | |
55 | phase two reopens runners walkers bikers birds taking over streets | |
56 | rebirth of movement petals trampled under foot clinging to worn soles | |
57 | rehab the picked scab starts to bleed | |
58 | reopen the city park bird song | |
59 | reopened for patio seating everyone an outsider | |
60 | reopened park standing in a queue for the wishing well | |
61 | reopened wounds the sky beyond the windows loses its colour | |
62 | reopening everything new but shopgirl’s smile | |
63 | reopening tears in the jack in a box | |
64 | r e o p e n i n g the sun leaving one cloud then entering another r e c l o s i n g | |
65 | reopening – all things I haven’t seen before | |
66 | reopening – neighbor’s cats between cauliflowers | |
67 | reopening . . . in the flight of butterflies all the lawn | |
68 | reopening . . . the fitbit gets a workout | |
69 | reopening wounds I thought I had healed dagger moon | |
70 | restoring the natural pull of magnets our hearts | |
71 | Scallions push up through the compost, green stalks reaching from decay to sky | |
72 | school reopens in September – the aster and the morning glory | |
73 | single beam of light as I softly open again my fridge | |
74 | slowly come out of isolation Earth doesn’t know | |
75 | Spring birds sing again, Last ash bud unfolds again; Winds change direction. | |
76 | Sun breaking into dawn opening a vivid burst of colors | |
77 | teacher throws away incorrect haiku – with care I uncrumple it | |
78 | tear gas anger flaring on the streets | |
79 | the child in me alive once again – roadside hopscotch | |
80 | the day before reopening . . . illegal drinking in a closed pub | |
81 | the death of a black man old wounds | |
82 | the family business grandpa reopens her letter | |
83 | the fly trap reopened and ready for business | |
84 | the rescue dog creeps from its spot into mine | |
85 | the smell of car fumes sweeter than the linden trees – the new normal | |
86 | Theatre of the Absurd they took my temperature: 32° Celsius | |
87 | time to show up opening orchid buds with the tweezers | |
88 | today the sun reopens its gold door of morning – I step out, reopening to summer | |
89 | treatment complete – he checks his smile in the dentist’s window | |
90 | unfolding mimosa I let myself out of me | |
91 | unoccupied beaches without foot traffic welcome shorebirds | |
92 | unshut unplug unfurl us sunup | |
93 | used bookstore smells of nicotine and rain new owners | |
94 | venturing a short way from home garden snail | |
95 | virtual meeting I reopen my smiley face | |
96 | visitors again Mona Lisa smiles a little wider | |
97 | walking shoes she noticed they collected pollen | |
98 | white crocuses pine needles carried into last year’s nest | |
99 | wish they were here discarded migrant labour reopening | |
100 | young magpie just you and I no longer | |
101 | your flight, owl . . . the ghost wind in my dreams |
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!
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