hosts: Firdaus Parvez & Kala Ramesh
A Thursday Feature.
poet of the month: Alan peat
14th March 2024
Alan Peat: ALAN PEAT is an English author and haiku poet. His haiku first appeared in ‘Blithe Spirit’ in 1997 and his tanka first appeared in the international tanka anthology, ‘In the ship’s wake’ (Iron Press 2000). After an extended pause, during which Alan wrote numerous educational and art history books, he returned to short form poetry in 2017. In 2021 he placed third in the International Golden Triangle Haiku contest; second in the New Zealand International Haiku contest, and placed both first and second (with Sherry Grant, and Pris Campbell) in the Otoroshi Rengay contest.
In 2022 he was runner up in the British Haiku Society, Ken and Norah Jones Haibun Award; honourable mention in the Haiku Poets of North California International Haibun contest; second in the Sandford Goldstein International Tanka contest; second in the Heliosparrow semagram contest, and joint third place in the 2022 Time Haiku ekphrastic haibun contest. He was also a guest author at Cornell University’s Mann Library for October (2022). In 2023 he was long-listed for the Touchstone Award (individual poems) and won a Touchstone Award (haibun). Another of his haibun has been turned into a film for the HNA Haibun Film Festival. He was also the joint winner of the 2023 Time Haiku ekphrastic haibun contest. A collaborative collection of surreal haibun, Barking At The Coming Rain, (Alba Publishing) written with Réka Nyitrai was also published in 2023. In 2024 he had two honourable mentions in the Rachel Sutcliffe Memorial Haibun contest as well as a first-place haiku in the same contest.
Alan has judged numerous international poetry contests including the Sharpening the Green Pencil International Haiku contest (2022), KM100NZ international haiku competition (2023) & The Haiku Poets of North California International Tanka contest (2023).
He currently resides in Biddulph, Staffordshire, United Kingdom
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Smoke Rings
Your watch keeps my time now. I wear it when I walk your walks. Today, as the last cloud burns off, I reach your favourite ridge. It is still early; a little after nine. I touch the face, above your moving hands, with my fingertip. This is when you’d light the one cigarette left in the packet. To celebrate - you’d say. And looking out from the cliff’s edge you’d add - This is what matters.
Small squares of crushed pile where the dresser stood. Deeper circles for the bed. Bright squares of wallpaper under bent nails and hooks. The tile you cracked with a pan.
dinosaur footprints
resting traces at the edge
of a rock
Honourable Mention. Rachel Sutcliffe Memorial Haibun Contest 2023
Prompt: I found this haibun fascinating for its interleaving of the poet's internal and external worlds. Most masterfully done. Look closely at the second paragraph - so much said in short sentences, following the principle of 'less is more'. The haiku is exceptionally strong here. These are points to remember when you write your story.
Go for it and have fun experimenting with various styles.
Haibun outside this prompt can be posted as well.
ps: I generally don't select haibun which has anything to do with smoking ... but :))
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Important: Since we're swamped with submissions, and our editors are only human, mistakes can happen. Please, please, remember to put your name, followed by your country, below each poem, even after revisions. It helps our editors; they won't have to type it in, saving them from potential typos. Thanks a ton!
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PLEASE NOTE:
1. Only two haibun per poet per prompt. Please put your name and country of residence under your poem, it makes the editors' work easier. Thanks.
2. Share your best-polished pieces.
3. Please do not post something in a hurry or something you have just written.
Let it simmer for a while.
4. When poets give suggestions and if you agree to them - post your final edited version on top of your original version.
5. Don't forget to give feedback on others' poems.
We are delighted to open the comment thread for you to share your unpublished haibun (within 300 words) to be considered for inclusion in the haikuKATHA monthly journal.
Moving mountains
I'm lying here wondering why I just don't have the energy today to get up other than to potter around near the bed or get food and drink. How lazy I keep telling myself, and yet I have achieved a massive amount during this day. This fascinates me.
moving mountains
I lie still
watching passers by
Katherine E Winnick
Brighton UK
#2
Everything Old Is New Again
I was so unprepared for the sudden dismantling of self as menopause hit. Smack dab in my face as it slides down into my neck. Or the creep of crepe paper under my chin that threatens an incoming waddle. My hourglass figure is now becoming more apple by the day, and trust me, it isn't keeping the doctor away.
winter white
the first errant
eyebrow hair
Eavonka Ettinger USA
Feedback Welcome
Hush
biting chill hers was a heart facing death She didn’t weep or lament but had become silent. Since childhood, I've always been aware of silence and its many avatars. I remember Father’s moody days, and then the silence was broken by his whistling – it had serious undertones. I would prefer silence any day, any time, I told myself then. Silence... The silence of the sky before a thunderstorm. The silence of the cow as her calf is pulled off her nipple by a ruthless human hand. The silence of the birds flying high. The silence of the fish deep in the ocean. And then the silence when Father's chest stopped heaving, and we knew his heart had gone still. …
#1
Experiments
The aliens must be working in conjunction with my doctors. Let’s see what happens when we don’t heal her. How will the pain affect her? What happens when we refuse to give her medicine? How far can we go, and not get sued?
Inca sacrifice
another guinea pig
to appease the gods
Susan Burch, USA
Comments welcome
breathing vs breathings ??