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THF Monthly Kukai Voting Ballot — March 2022

This month’s theme:
mud

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 handful of soil
I bring back the warmth
of mother’s embrace

2

      a lily pad
sinking in mud
my depression

3

a mud puddle
reveals two pale faces . . .
one is mine

4

      a whiff
of what was . . .
petrichor

5

after downpours
the last puddle
grackle bathing

6

      after the flood
a toy truck engulfed
in toxic mud

7

      alzheimer . . .
in every mud puddle
a memory

8

      animals come to drink
ponds once water filled — now mud
trap herds i thirsty dreams

9

army in the mud
Katyushas pointed
at the rainbow

10

      ash on snow . . .
trudging through the sludge
of war

11

      aspiring politician
scraping all the mud
off his shoe

12

      Belonging
To the earth
Mud

13

      blood-stained ground
the sacrifice
made of mud

14

      

b l o o m s
l o t u s
the
yet
and
waters
muddy

15

      bringing my
work home
dried mud

16

      brushing off
a remnant of mud
soil from his country

17

      brutal sun parching
a river of mud fractures,
across arid ground

18

      buffalo shed
the mud cone
from many ponds

19

      Captured by mud
Wheels of my truck
Now completely stuck

20

      childhood bride . . .
the marriage feast
of mud balls on banana leaves

21

      childhood summer
those days of high tea
with mud-cakes

22

chocolate bar —
in a mud puddle the snack
of a butterfly

23

cleaning muddy shoes . . .
the heaviness of darkness
on my father’s lung

24

      colours born
of mud, returning to mud
in the painter’s pot

25

      conflict . . .
how long before birches
grow once more through mud?

26

dinner’s ready!
serving fragrant mud pies —
childhood memories

27

dirt beneath the snow the unicorn hunting me

28

      dirty mud
all over our world —
greedy war

29

      dry shoes stay home
adventure is a pair of
muddy boots

30

      dry summer —
Grandpa’s boat stuck
in the mud

31

      early spring
digging the garden
from between the dog’s pads

32

evening breeze
plum petals stuck on
her muddy shoes

33

everyday mud —
getting harder and harder to find
a lump of goodness

34

      far away from home
I look at the endless rain
over a vast swamp

35

      flowers mixed with mud
under the feet of soldiers —
spring smelling of war

36

      forest stroll . . .
grounding my ego
the mud trail

37

      forgiveness —
he washes the hands
of the mud-throwers

38

fresh mud
shovels scatter
the stench of drought

39

      from the mud
a water lily . . .
how wonderful

40

garden shed ghosts —
empty sunflower hulls
and dried squirrel prints

41

glistening mud
retreats, cracks
a mosaic

42

      glittering eyes
brighten his muddy face —
cat fish

43

      hands in mud . . .
we harvest
peace

44

      happy hour . . .
washing off
the day’s mud

45

      harvest moon —
muddy puddles show him
the way

46

      heavy rains — monsoon
her mind shows signs of aging
spinning in the mud

47

      in mud
horses and troops interred
hardened by time

48

      in mud
I follow the fresh tracks
of a giant stag

49

      in the bottom
of the cereal bowl
champion mud

50

      in the morning mud
coyote prints
dusty pink sunrise

51

      in the mud
fighting swallows
for mud

52

      independence . . .
even from this bloodied mud
sunflowers bloom

53

jacaranda blooms
float to tire tracks purple
in mud. you have left.

54

just under the eave
tirelessly she daubs and molds
baby’s coming soon

55

      lakebed
an intricate pattern of dried mud
dust to dust

56

      Last remnants of snow
Like dollops of whipped cream
On chocolate ice cream mud

57

      learning to walk
the spring mudflats . . .
lotus feet

58

      leaving tracks
foot and tire
welcome spring

59

      liquefaction
the inevitability
of faultlines

60

little hands
in river mud
shaping the earth

61

      Loam stirs, breaking free —
muddling nightcrawlers rise
under the worm moon.

62

      melting snow and rain
even the sparrow wants
a little place to hide

63

      melting snow
the toddler’s first footprints
in the mud

64

      memory care
all her memories
clear as mud

65

      moonstruck
since 69 poets blinding
a footprint in the mud

66

      Mud and snow
And a single yellow flower —
Spring, far north

67

      mud bath
trying to find
my inner beauty

68

      mud between toes
and up their trunks
elephants at play

69

      mud bubbles
pop poppop!

70

      mud doll
he wipes her
tears

71

mud fight —
the bright rosiness
of her cheeks

72

      mud filled boots
he carries his guilt
back home

73

      mud flats
the rise and fall
of an empire

74

      mud . . .
how easy to change
mom’s face

75

      mud . . .
I take a few
steps back

76

      mud mixed with blood
sunflower seeds germinate
in the cold earth

77

      mud . . .
nothing much left
of my father now

78

      mud on my brow
planting
in the noonday sun

79

mud on my feet
walking on the muddy road
to muddy freedom

80

      mud on the boots —
childhood memories
emerge in me

81

      mud on tiny shoes
stomping in puddle
face aglow with glee

82

      mud path . . .
a cycle overtakes
a sports car

83

      mud path
your footprints
begin to blur

84

mud pie
a taste of my toddler’s
imagination

85

      mud pies
baked in the playhouse
grandma comes for tea

86

      mud pies
the child shaping them
just so

87

      mud season
a quick sniff
of my boot heel

88

      mud season
an armored column mired
sunflowers

89

      mud season . . .
local gossip shared
over the fence

90

      Mud smearing
on the terraces of the spa
drying of laundry

91

      mud splatters
on a spotless floor
. . . in the doghouse

92

      Mud
the elixir of
life and death . . .

93

      mud walls
earthworms tickle
as onions sleep

94

mudbank
the eye blink
of a bull frog

95

      Muddy field
Bowl of rice
For supper

96

      muddy pond
one frog
after another

97

      Muddy shoes, I know the way you came to me

98

      muddy wagon trails
now eroding arroyos
or vague scars on grass

99

      muddy waters
bullfrog burps
g
n
i
s
i
r
bubbles

100

      mudflats shimmering —
go ahead, take your shoes off
you know you want to

101

      mud-laden hands
burying the remains
of a departed dream

102

      mudmudmudmudmud . . .
r   a   c   o   o   n
t   r   a

103

mudslide —
our sins
washed away

104

mule deer
our tracks merge
after the rain

105

Music festival
Feet in the mud
Dance all night

106

      my sister
out of the muddy water
lotus blossoms

107

      my wellies
squelch through March
warblers returning

108

no fly zone
cherry blossom petals
fall on a mudflat

109

      No water now no mud
no mud no lotus flower bloom
Sun plenty of sun

110

      nothing thaws
mud we didn’t leave
in Flanders

111

      nuclear blues
plant dumps waste to Muddy Waters
beach-bathing smiles fade

112

      Old pond
Now mud
No frogs
One turtle

113

      on its way to Kyiv
a military convoy sinks
deep into the mud

114

on the dirt road
yellow butterfly puddling
mom’s fingertips skim my cheek

115

opening day —
home plate
iced over

116

      paw prints
on the kitchen floor
mud season

117

      Pearl
permanent
shine
in
Mud

118

      post-winter puddles . . .
even deeper and muddier
in new leather shoes

119

      probably I am
getting closer to river
much heavier shoes

120

      rain over camp —
in woman’s arms a baby
from fresh mud

121

      rain puddles
smiling kids covered
in mud

122

      Rainbow arches up
to wipe red mud from the
Sleeping Giant’s chin.

123

rainy evening
more and more pigs
in mom’s mud cake

124

      rainy season
first middle and last
name mud

125

refugees . . .
between curves of mud
full moon

126

      second thoughts
deep under the snow
a muddy garden

127

      she clears out
winter’s detritus
— mud season

128

      skid marks
in the mud —
kissing gate

129

sliding into home base
his pants become the mud

130

      sloshing through
spring rituals
rubber rain boots

131

      slow current . . .
mud between my toes
a worm on the hook

(Ekphrastic haiku after the novel Adventures of Tom Sawyer, 1876, by Mark Twain)

132

      soil in one
globe in the other —
balanced hands

133

      spring mud . . .
back home from Kyiv
in a body bag

134

      spring pond secrets
burnt umber mud pies —
golden koi garnish

135

      spring rain —
adorning a mud puddle
cherry blossoms

136

      spring rains . . .
a raccoon’s
muddy hands

137

spring sparrows
get mud puddles
in weather report

138

      starry sky
he bathes in the mud
month

139

      sunlight on mud
his worshipping
with grouse

140

Tell a story
‘til it rains again;
footprints in the mud.

141

      thanksgiving . . .
from the muddy pond
a budding lotus

142

      the earth’s hard dryness
becomes mud between my toes
as clear pebbles fall

143

      the mud trail
that leads to her bedroom . . .
he kept his key

144

      the peat
rising in heat thermals
a golden eagle

145

      the point of this life
is to get your hands dirty
delicious carrots

146

      The right and the left
Politics water and dirt
Causing a mudslide

147

      the wet clay strand
riddled with blowholes
rake in hand

148

through the thickest mud
we can see the rainbow now
earth mother balanced

149

      Toddler
in sagging diaper
mudhole

150

trainer tracks
cross the bird tracks —
spring mud

151

      trapped in the hollows . . .
I sat and went down the brown
slope slipping

152

      tsunami —
mud in her hair
and lungs

153

turbans
point to the sky
jigsaws of dry fields

154

      two ducks puddling mud
the pond’s memory

155

      two eyes blink above
the mud — two more — many more —
the plague emerging

156

      Ukraine —
a paper boat held upright
muddy puddle

157

Ukraine —
mud trenches bleed red with
the blood of martyrs

158

      unable to stop
digging up the past
two mudlarkers

159

under the bridge
where he used to play . . .
handprints

160

      view of life —
the mud becomes a rose
in the hands of a little girl

161

      war —
in a mud puddle
a paper boat

162

      war refugees
nothing to declare
but mud and fear

163

way to school
at the yesterday’s puddle
first lesson

164

      woodland walk
winter clings
to my boots

165

      worm moon
the soil tilled
with fresh manure

 

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!

 

This Post Has One Comment

  1. Tom, I know that by the rules you must throw out my vote for myself. If I may quote the late, great comedian Flip Wilson,”The devil made me do it.”

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