Unless stated otherwise, all poetry on Swimming in Lines of Haiku is Copyright Kirsten Cliff and may not be reprinted in any form without written permission from the author. kirsten(DOT)cliff(AT)gmail(DOT)com
Showing posts with label contemporary haibun online. Show all posts
Showing posts with label contemporary haibun online. Show all posts

Saturday, March 8, 2014

Haiku Anthologies A-Plenty


speckled egg
the sunlight
on my thoughts

The Heron's Nest (XVI:1, March 2014)

So grateful to have had this haiku chosen to appear in The Heron's Nest. I'm looking forward to buying a copy of The Heron's Nest Anthology Vol 15, which comprises all the haiku from the 2013 editions of the journal, including three of mine. (See PayPal button at bottom of this page for purchasing.)

Congratulations to New Zealander Sandra Simpson for winning Favourite Haiku of 2013 and also being voted Poet of the Year in The Heron's Nest Awards. Go Kiwi 'Ku!

I also have a haiku in  fear of dancing: The Red Moon Anthology of English-Language Haiku 2013 and have just been informed my haibun 'Damaged Goods' will appear in Contemporary Haibun Vol 15. So that's two more anthologies to buy. Yikes!

How about buying a "Keep Calm and Haiku On" journal from my online shop Haiku On to write your haiku in, and support a poet with big dreams? :-)

http://www.cafepress.com/haikuon

Special thanks to hubby for creating this design.

Monday, December 23, 2013

The Chosen One

I am delighted (especially after a terrible migraine yesterday) to find out that one of my haiku has been chosen for the 2013 Red Moon Anthology, which collects the best English-language haiku published each year and puts them together in book form.

true north
the eucalyptus sheds
a length of bark 



I haven't had any haiku chosen for this annual anthology since 2010, when the below appeared within its pages:

coming home
to an empty house
so many stars

First published in Kokako 12 (April 2010) 

But between 2010 and 2013 I was lucky enough to have work represented in other anthologies that also strive to gather the best haikai published in that calendar year.

2012 saw my haibun 'hair ties' appear in Contemporary Haibun 14, and in 2011 three of my tanka were honoured to be amongst those in the forth and final volume of the Take Five: Best Contemporary Tanka series. 

So I'm travelling well, and in good company. Let's see what 2014 brings . . .
 

Thursday, October 10, 2013

Stop

Thirty-five and still I travel as I did when I was a child. Head pressed against the cool of the window trying to ward off the carsickness rising within. Asking Dad to stop the car when things threatened to boil over. Mum having to give up her right to the front seat for my spot in the back. Watching the world swerve by in a mess of green as my forehead bumps lightly on the glass. Twirling my hair between finger and thumb, something my husband says I still do when tired. And what I used to do while sucking my thumb for comfort not so many years ago. 

rain-filled
this forgotten shoe
at the path's end 


Contemporary Haiku Online October 2013, vol 9, no 3

Tuesday, October 8, 2013

Damaged goods

When you have a car accident (although emergency services don't believe in accidents, so they call them car crashes) if the damage to your vehicle is greater than its perceived worth, then it is written off. As I drain my savings account, and that of my parents, seeking to fix what is broken within me, I wonder: is my damage greater than my perceived worth? Maybe nothing is ever an accident . . . 

low moon
the drive home
in silence 


Contemporary Haiku Online October 2013, vol 9, no 3

Friday, February 1, 2013

hair ties

When I first returned home from the hospital, I didn't really notice them. They were just a part of the normal clutter of home. Not something that needed my attention. But as the days moved on and I sunk back into my life – half the old and half the new – I started seeing them everywhere, and it made me uneasy. Eventually the snippets of tension they were creating, the cracks they were prising open within my coping, meant they had to go.

I went around the house collecting them, one by one, and putting them in a clear plastic bag. How did I ever need so many? One on my desk, one on the coffee table, one in the bathroom, one on the dresser, one by my bedside, one in my handbag...

I put them away in the back of a cupboard. It would be a good 18 months before I'd need one again.

the rain quickens
i should have known
there'd be tears



First published in Kokako 17 (September 2012)

Monday, December 3, 2012

A Happy Haiku Holiday Season . . .


December 2012 - Kirsten's Calendar of Haiku & Photography

The end of the year is upon us and it's time for me to look back and see if my ideas for 2012 came to fruition. My poetic leanings for this year were to:
  • Make haiku and tanka a part of my everyday life -- I've certainly done this with having my own haiku calendar on my kitchen wall this year, the December page of which you see above. (See the pages for each month of 2012 at my side-bar link Kirsten's 2012 Calendar of Haiku & Photography.) I've created a second calendar for 2013 with all new photos and haiku, which I look forward to my family seeing for the first time come Christmas; and of course, having it on my own wall for the year. I also wrote haiku in cards this year, and made cards with haiku on them, giving them to family and friends. And I added haiku to the odd email or other message here and there, when I felt it might be appreciated. You can also read the post I did for New Zealand's National Poetry Day here about how I get my daily dose of haiku.
  • Write more linked haiku and tanka verse -- Yes! All up this year I wrote 13 rengay with Cara Holman, all of which have been published, and three of which have been submitted to the rengay anthology. I had never written rengay before this and have found it very inspiring and enjoyable. I also wrote one rengay with Aubrie Cox, which was published in Kokako, and has been submitted to the rengay anthology as well. Mid-year I was part of a group that wrote a junicho; most of us for the first time. This was quite a different process to writing rengay, and a steep learning curve, but definitely something I would try again. The result of our efforts "Cold Sun" is in the December issue of A Hundred Gourds. Last, but not least, I wrote a tanka sequence with Margaret Dornaus, which was published in LYNX. This was another rewarding experience, and another first for me. We hope to write more together in the future.
  • Write more haibun and tanka prose -- I wrote the most of these forms in a year than I ever had, and read a lot too! I decided that two of my haibun were worthy of polishing up and presenting to editors, and gratefully both were accepted; one in Kokako and one in Contemporary Haibun Online. Tanka prose I found a bit trickier and only in the last few weeks have I finalised two that I think are of a publishable standard. The first has been accepted to Haibun Today, and I'm waiting on news for the second. Needless to say I'm super pleased with my efforts and definitely want to keep writing more. I'm still interested in writing a poetic memoir in this fashion, although I'm keen to write it about a different time in my life than I'd originally conceived. Watch this space!

I did lots of other things in haiku-land for the first time, too, this year, like participating in kukai, judging a competition, and collaborating on photo-haiga. It's all made for a well rounded year of fun and challenges and learning and friendships. I'm looking forward to more! :)

There is a lot I'm interested in pursuing next year: collaborations of all kinds, finalising putting my first collection together, and entering the most haiku and tanka competitions I ever have in 12 months!

What will actually happen?

I don't know, because what I do know is that I can't do it all. I'm actually only a few submissions away this year from having done, what would work out as, one submission a week (which I did as a minimum in 2011). My coffers are running low. So it's a big period of concentrated writing that is needed right now. See you soon...

Here's to a happy haiku holiday season to all my readers!

May you eat, drink, write and be merry. :)


Thursday, September 20, 2012

too much

I wonder what it would be like not to speak aloud for a whole day. No words. From my mouth. For twenty-fours hours. No songs, no soliloquies, no swearing. Out loud. No language of love or lament or loathing. Out loud. Or in whispers.

I'm sure I say more than is necessary. Maybe most of us do. But could I make it through a day without talking? And what would I learn from doing so? Is it possible to be overwhelmed by such an experience, by too much God? Or is there only goodness to be found through such a practise?

chemotherapy all the people I've lost along the way
 
contemporary haibun online vol 8, no 3 (October 2012)