Winners announced HERE.


Anyone in the world, of any age or background, may participate. Among members of the Society of Classical Poets, everyone including Advisory Board members may participate, if not involved in judging the contest. The winner, if not resident in the United States, must have a PayPal account or a bank that accepts US checks, in order to receive prize money.






Margaret Coats



Now until August 15, 2022. Results to be announced August 30, 2022.



Post your entries in the Comments below.



Each competitor may submit up to three haiku of traditional form: three lines per poem with 5 syllables in the first line, 7 syllables in the second, and 5 in the third. Entrants are recommended to conform to other traditional haiku requirements outlined HERE. They should be new poems, written since the closing of the 2021 haiku competition. Although this competition is held in summer, haiku dealing with any season are acceptable.

If you want coaching on haiku features, please read the examples and explanation before submitting your entries. Once entries are posted, they can be revised or withdrawn ONLY by making another Comment. This is permitted until the competition closes, but do take reasonable care to complete work to your satisfaction before you enter it. Please do not use the Comment area as your scratch pad. That is discourteous to other competitors, to interested readers, and to the judge and will disqualify you.

Entries that do not meet basic traditional haiku requirements may be deleted. Anyone who submits more than three entries will have ALL his or her entries disqualified, unless excess entries are clearly withdrawn by a later Comment.






NOTE TO READERS: If you enjoyed this poem or other content, please consider making a donation to the Society of Classical Poets.

The Society of Classical Poets does not endorse any views expressed in individual poems or comments.


612 Responses

  1. Qutbuddin Loren Smith

    Earth 16

    Spring’s waters sing. They
    are rushing, hiding, jumping,
    pushing, laughing life.

    Earth 17

    Ebullient birds
    finding sweet lilting freedoms
    …pouring forth such…joy!

    • Darshayita Paul

      Little did the vampire know,
      that the blood dripping from the rose
      had poison in its petals.

      Grabbing by the collar and
      stabbing an envious scholar is relatively easy,
      than slowly poisoning with words.

      Your eyes burn too brightly,
      like the stars twinkling in the sky;
      unlike mine, the darkest night.

    • Wren

      a frog hops on grass
      wish i was as light as it
      dancing in the rain

      curtains drawn, i sit
      my room mirroring a womb.
      the sun, my mother

      the clouds race, giggling
      the high hills covered in mist
      my home lies beyond

      • Jan Rowell E. Favor

        walking without shoes
        my burdened soles feel the sand
        of this tranquil beach

      • Leo S

        She sighs motherhood
        as wind kisses leaves goodbye
        dandelions weep

    • Mona

      Crickets chirping loud
      Morning dew cleanses fresh grass
      Peeking Sun smiles, shy.

    • Rishika

      Nature beams, sated;
      Soothed are souls ,content is life
      Neath the divine drops.

      • Rishika

        The little robin,
        singing of the autumn’s end
        brings joy from his arm.

      • Rishika

        Behind the tall trees,
        the cold winter has brought ice
        On the deep black lake .

    • Leo S

      She sighs motherhood
      as wind kisses leaves goodbye
      dandelions weep

    • Leo S

      She sighs motherhood
      as wind kisses leaves goodbye
      dandelions weep

      Weeds crawl out to feed
      on rain’s deep melancholy
      little bare feet run

      Winter whispers death
      life withers away, bowed down
      the mole burrows deep

    • Darlene

      Three Haikus:

      Warm air dissipates
      A cool evening arrives
      Dew rests on the grass

      Wind scatters the sand
      Sunlight beams of brilliance
      Protected by shades

      The plum tree’s leaves dance
      The same rhythm as her hair
      Partnered by the wind

  2. James A. Tweedie

    Long winter journey
    Cloaked in a blanket of snow
    Asleep by the fire

  3. Lawrence Fray

    Monsoon rain at last,
    Trees open their palms in thanks;
    Birds sing, frogs croak: joy!

  4. Yousuf bin Mohammad

    moisture in wind
    petrichor fills nostrils tsu
    -nami’s seismic splash


    a simple red thread
    maps labyrinths for footsteps
    like a minotaur

    answer the koan
    do dogs have buddha nature
    stray dog are howling

    a butterfly dreamt
    being a human just once
    but the wings were lost

  6. Darren Scott

    Spring rain is falling.
    The world begins to renew.
    All is clean, for now.

    The night becomes day.
    Summer sun burns the horizon.
    Awash with color.

  7. Sandip Saha

    Incessant rainfall
    Inundates village cottage
    Snake befriends human.

    Himalayan monk
    Meditates for lord Siva
    Snow submerges hut.

    corona virus
    kills millions in all lands
    like insects in fire.

  8. Adeola Ikuomola

    The red onion
    Is the opinion
    Of the red roses.

  9. James A. Tweedie

    Frost on my window
    The harvest moon is rising
    A golden leaf falls

    Spring at her easel
    Wielding a palette of green
    Paints leaves on the trees

    • A poet

      James, I am wondering… Wouldn’t

      A golden leaf falls,
      The harvest moon is rising.
      Frost on my window.

      work better in terms of a stanza before the third line?


      Painting leaves on trees
      Wielding a palette of green
      — Spring at her easel.

      Hope you don’t mind. If I didn’t think you had it in you (unlike some other contributors here totally missing the spirit of haiku), I would not have written this comment.

  10. Galin Elias Franklin

    Need to clear my mind…
    A robin quivers and dips
    Into a puddle

    Swathe of goldenrod
    Swaying in the summer breeze…
    All that Debussy

    Drifting into shore
    The swan’s red intricacy…
    Just a withered leaf

  11. David Sloan

    A riot of red—
    maples’ farewell wave. We lose
    leaves, but we gain sky

    butterfly perches
    then flits away, pollen-gorged
    a rainbow with wings

    light snowfall at first
    soon buries the blue shovel
    that we left outside

  12. Tom Schmidt

    August occasion,
    bells toll for school to resume—
    my pupils contract.

  13. Mia P. Solomonides

    Delicate white wings
    dance over sun-kissed petals,
    tipsy with nectar

    Pretty patterns play
    sparkling on the window pane,
    crystal- cut rainbows

    Golden daffodils
    trumpeting the sun’s return,
    the earth’s ode to love

  14. James McLean

    A colleague paints these
    exquisite watercolors
    of fading tulips.

    Gold leaf on a half-
    heart stem comes down from heaven
    on a strand of silk.

    The snowflake falls like
    a man’s life toward the ground
    gentle and loving.

  15. D.E. HOLLANDsmith

    Sputtering wick’s flame
    Contributes fading solace
    Shivering; light strained.

  16. Alessio Zanelli

    footprints all around
    across the waste a pathway
    only for the blind

    to see the sunrise
    sometimes you’re obliged to go
    where nights are endless

    the road to nowhere
    teems with swarms of en route stops—
    each one’s a finish

  17. Ihar Kazak


    Birds’ reputation
    Shaken by digital tweets
    Indeed, some progress…

    Are all tweets alike?
    Digital rotten apple
    Bad name comes quickly.

    The real tweets from birds,
    How soothing and sweet they are!
    But digital tweets?!

  18. Ken Allan Dronsfield

    Three of my haiku.

    petals of spun gold
    sunflower on summer days
    stoic in bright sun

    duck in the koi pond
    turtle watches from a log
    Spring bull frogs singing

    Twilight autumn woods
    colorful leaves fall like rain
    Owl stirs in an oak

  19. Emory Jones

    Yellow butterflies
    Flitting across green meadows
    Like dancing sunshine.

  20. Emory Jones

    Trees stretch twig fingers
    Tickling the fat undersides
    Of laughing clouds.

  21. Pedro Gaya


    The lumberjack goes
    to strike down the damp, cold oak –
    the storm follows suit.

  22. Spencer Davimos

    The two fell in love
    The same way they fell out of it:
    Searching for purpose.

  23. Emory Jones

    The Warm Spring sunshine
    Awakens the infant seeds
    Sprouts climb out of bed.

    • Tunde Osho

      And rain
      Between sun
      Temperate climate

      Cold sun
      Body afraid
      Of touching water

      Grandma in two clothes
      August break

  24. Emory Jones

    On the pale blue sky
    Flocks of birds are writing poems
    That clouds will erase.

    • Margaret Coats

      Emory, this is the seventh haiku you have entered, although the limit is three. For ANY of your poems to be considered, please choose the best three, and reply here which ones you want to appear in the competition. Thank you.

      • Emory Jones

        On a pale blue sky
        Flocks of birds are writing poems
        That clouds will erase.

      • Emory Jones

        I would like to keep the following:
        The warm spring sunshine
        Awakens the infant seeds
        Sprouts climb out of bed.

        On the pale blue sky
        Flocks of birds are writing poems
        That clouds will erase.

        Yellow butterflies
        Flitting across green meadows
        Like dancing sunshine.

      • Emory Jones

        The warm spring sunshine
        Awakens the infant seeds
        Sprouts climb out of bed.

        On the pale blue sky
        Flocks of birds are writing poems
        That clouds will erase.

        Yellow butterflies
        Flitting across green meadows
        Like dancing sunshine.

      • Margaret Coats

        Thanks very much! I’m considering the above three haiku as your competition entries.

  25. James T. STruck

    All the Gods fell out of the sky
    Falling Into Earth
    Earth Disappeared without the Sky Gods

  26. James T. STruck

    Mississippi Into Amazon
    Amazon into Nile
    Nile into Danube One Earth now

  27. James T. STruck

    I was mother’s helper
    Now that She is Gone
    Universe could Turn Purple and Die

  28. James T. STruck

    God said to me “are you there?”
    It is ok to be a person
    and exist, talk, walk and speak”
    I asked God “are you sure?”

  29. James T. STruck

    Elvis, Did you really like us?
    Well that was what the movie said
    I learned a lot about you Thanks

    • Margaret Coats

      James, you’ve entered four short poems, but the limit for the competition is three, and the entries need to be in traditional haiku form. Please reply here if you would like to withdraw any of your above entries, so that whatever haiku you might wish to enter can be considered for the competition. Thanks!

      • Oluwasegun Oluseyi Adesina

        I think people submitting more than three haiku should be one of the disqualification test. There’s no need telling them to correct their inability to adhere to instruction.

      • Margaret Coats

        You are quite right that there is no need for me to tell a person to follow the competition rules. But when I did this more than a month ago, I gave notice to everyone that I am taking these rules seriously. Since that time, several poets have corrected themselves–and we have fewer poets than last year who will be disqualified for submitting too many haiku. I try to provide a pleasant opportunity for us all, including those who didn’t understand some things at first. Thanks for your haiku and your contribution to the discussion!

      • Oluwasegun Oluseyi Adesina

        Okay, ma. I can understand you quite well. It’s not easy judging these numerous haiku. Well done, ma.

  30. Pedro Gaya

    Sea of clouds, still goes,
    like the men walking, because
    life heats up the quiz.

  31. Pedro Gaya

    Ripe grapes they harvest,
    carving fates – the best taste.
    Wine dates, human jest.

  32. Jake Aller

    Korean summer
    Hot, sticky, humid, sauna
    Tropical evening

    My morning coffee
    Cup of heaven in my cup
    Black as hell itself

    My love came in a dream
    She must have been an angel
    Sent to save my life

  33. Luigi Pagano

    Perched on pergolas
    on which the pristine snow falls
    parakeets quiver

    The robin red-breast
    is the bird that announces
    Yuletide is coming

    Nothing better than
    a ‘doppio espresso’
    on a winter morn

  34. Paul Freeman

    The Morning Star dims.
    Hail the rosy face of dawn.
    A mad hare capers.

  35. Paul Freeman

    Skyscrapers in bloom.
    Traffic connecting the dots.
    Rain clouds cleanse the air.

  36. Michael Miller

    the cold winter breeze
    recalls the sound of her voice
    her sad smile lingers

    recalling my past
    how cold cruel winter descends
    upon youthful joy

    my life travels time
    with the seasons passing by
    with no turning back

  37. Barbara Preston

    Hidden in a hole.
    Majestic tarantula,
    unfurls hairy limbs.

  38. Paul Freeman

    Grains of windblown sand
    marching in dune formations.
    Stars swarm the night sky.

  39. Trisha Barr

    Nature’s library –
    deep of night demands silence…
    a beetle goes crunch!

    Still, glassy water
    erases the horizon,
    blending sea and sky.

    Riding ceaseless waves
    like spinning wheels of potters,
    we’re ever-shifting.

  40. Jack Blocker

    Dotted eyelashes
    gaze towards tumbling snowflakes—
    Dandelions, blown.

  41. Patricia A. Marsh

    muggy summer night
    restless sleeper on the porch
    old guard dog’s deep sigh

  42. Amrita Valan

    Delicious smell permeates
    An expectant hush.

    Hard white hot sunlight
    Filters through amber curtains
    In beige gold dapples.

    Last crow of evening
    Swings on the telephone line
    Cawing’ at sunset.

  43. Brice Bellanger

    A faded red rose.
    A tear streams down my grieved face,
    It can’t revive her.

    A cold wintry night.
    Our lives is like this snowflake:
    A passing presence.

    • Brice Bellanger

      I wanted to write this second comment in order to revise one of the haikus I submitted; in fact, I have just realised that I made a grammar mistake in the second haiku. Here is the correction of the second haiku:

      A cold wintry night.
      Our lives are like this snowflake:
      A passing presence.

      Thank you in advance for your understanding.

      • Margaret Coats

        Thanks for your courteous correction!

  44. Emory Jones

    Crepe myrtle bursts forth–
    A riot of small flowers
    In pink explosion.

    • Oluwasegun Oluseyi Adesina

      Good morning, ma. I forgot to tell you, I made a mistake in one of my submitted haiku which I have corrected. Just a word. I changed “children” to “students”. So, I had to submit the same three haiku again with only the one-word correction making the difference in the second one.

      Please, ma, disregard the first submission and regard the second one.

      Thank you.

      • Margaret Coats

        I have noticed your revision, and the second version is counted as one of your three entries.

  45. Emory Jones

    Daffodils spout sun
    Into a smiling blue sky–
    Like waving sunshine.

  46. Martin Ijir

    as a leaf bud
    so is the joy of ending
    life in a summer

  47. peter venable

    Haiku You (or In Bad Taste)

    On the beach: rain drops

    splash my lips and stretched out tongue—

    Splat! A gull dropping.

  48. Marek Kozubek

    places of childhood –
    the scent of forget-me-nots
    stronger and stronger

    early morning fog –
    a path to somewhere filled with
    a rustle of leaves

    grandparents’ house loft –
    the silence of deep autumn
    in the spider webs

  49. Joshua C. Frank

    Star-filled, full-moon night
    Frogs and crickets make music
    For one little girl

    Snake slithers away
    Underneath the wooden fence
    At the edge of town

    Little river frog
    Hiding under the sidewalk
    When a dog goes by

  50. Jill Kirkland

    Clouds float gracefully
    Upon the whispering wind
    Always in motion

    The ocean’s waters
    Wrap me in a warm blanket
    Of cool, clear liquid

    Shining dewdrops slide
    To mark the coming of dawn…
    Where has the night gone?

  51. Hannah Lee

    The sky is paper—
    I am caught between it and
    the next page, white field

    New blooms on black trees
    veiled in quiet bone-white fog:
    spring’s dirge to winter

    The sky, placid lake:
    magnolia dips three pink
    toes in its waters

  52. John Kolyav

    Spring in blue lagoon
    Oyster in nacre wraps pain
    From pricking sand grain

    No blossoms on boughs
    Prophet’s feet on fallen leaves
    Fragrance of greatness

    Concentration camp
    From the bottom barbed wire hangs
    Skin scrape, frost-encased

  53. Dan Galbin

    around the wood stove –
    the grandmother moved into
    an endless story

  54. Raymond C Roy

    woodland waterfall
    a glistening tapestry
    shrouded in its mist

    the morning after
    two cardinals cavorting
    in a fallen tree

    mushroom multitudes
    popping up after the rain
    a refugee camp

  55. Joseph Buehler

    A blinding summer
    rain strikes our patio and
    stills all evening noise

    Spring’s bright pear trees bear
    no fruit, but delight us with
    pink or white blossoms

    Dark green tree top branches
    sway crazily from an abrupt
    afternoon summer breeze

      • Joseph Buehler

        Margaret, please consider the three poems I sent on July 5th. I realize now you only accept 3 poems. I sent 2 more today, so they don’t count. Joseph Buehler.

      • Margaret Coats

        I am counting the above three posted July 5 as your entries. Thank you!

  56. Divya Venkat Sridhar

    yellow zucchinis
    sweat in sunlight’s gaze
    supple, beeswax skin

    sailboats hem the port
    icy breeze braids through the waves
    a glass tapestry

    blush daisy petals
    melt in thumbs and grass halos
    a fleeting love

  57. Morrison Handley-Schachler

    Fledglings in Springtime
    Know not even how to ask
    “Shall we see Autumn?”

  58. Morrison Handley-Schachler

    Night before evening
    Falls on stained-glass windowpanes.
    Beauty is darkened.

  59. Jason Mackey

    taking out the trash
    hungry for a fly the frog
    shoots his slimy tongue

    ripples in a pond
    underneath the crescent moon
    shines a million stars

    bones beneath the ground
    buried deep within a mound
    dying to be found

  60. Roy E. Peterson

    Cherry blossoms high
    Cherry picking time is nigh.
    Cheery, cherry pie.

    “Wind in the Willows.”
    Pooh’s head resting on pillows
    Honey? Two kilos.

    Wind blowing like that
    Upsets my calico cat
    By knocking him flat.

  61. Morrison Handley-Schachler

    The Sun is still there
    On Winter nights but it is
    Too dark to see it.

  62. D.E. HOLLANDsmith

    Templars’ hooves sling mud
    Onto blades’ flashing fury.
    Nostrils swell and snort.

  63. BDW

    “Clear Dew” Ibuse

    A turtle plods forth
    to a wide and sandy beach:
    the sound of water.

    • B e D e W

      as per “Clear Dew” Ibuse:

      The phrase “the sound of water” in Japanese is “mizu no oto”—水の音.

      • Margaret Coats

        Thanks for clearing the dew! You are welcome to submit your haiku in both English and Japanese if you like.

  64. Alexis M Liftee

    Dreary August night
    Full moon passing over ships
    Whistling winds at sea

    Brisk afternoon walk
    Sun peek-a-booing through trees
    Summer breeze cools me

    Spring time marathon
    Tunnel of sakura trees
    Pink petal runners

  65. Sim Mason

    puffer jackets at
    the beach, littered with sandmen,
    kangaroos sunbathe

    • Sim Mason

      I had trouble coming up with Australian kigo, but the challenge was fun.

  66. David McMurray

    scarecrow points the way–
    to an unmanned rail station
    rural migration

    fallen soldiers in
    rippling fields of golden wheat–
    winds blow row on row

    tithes for the stone church…
    young boys who stole Christmas pines
    hand back scented coins

  67. Galin Elias Franklin

    Please note that this comment supersedes that of July 1st:

    Mountains near Madrid
    Still traced at the seams with snow…
    Almond trees in bloom

    Swathe of goldenrod
    Swaying, surging in the breeze…
    All that Debussy

    Drifting into shore
    The swan’s red intricacy…
    Just a withered leaf

  68. Mihael de la Montagnes

    Golden stamens waft
    Bumblebees fly love aloft
    Pistil packing child

    Tree figured by wind
    Stretching beyond endurance
    stately speaks of change

    Autumn spider spins
    Silk threads overwintering
    Her offspring within

  69. Quentin Brown

    Title: Broken Hearts and Rotting Peaches

    The worms are feasting
    On the old sweetness of us
    Like rotten peaches


    Title: Playground Trees

    Old bark is stripped down
    By sticky, chubby fingers
    Leaving raw amber


    Title: Autumn

    Leaves falling down to
    Cold barren ground, orange and
    Brown mix like fresh paint

    • Niyi Gidado

      The bird flies
      when the tall tree falls
      right to another, imminent fall

  70. Dan Galbin

    abyssal spring blue –
    believing the sky closer
    with each ascended floor

  71. Shannon Lodoen

    along the sea cliffs
    the lifeblood of the planet
    beats against the rocks

    steam rising from pines
    heated by the morning sun—
    vap’rous ghosts set free

    bare branches reach out
    to the cold and distant sun;
    it goes on its way

  72. matt stanley

    springs sun shone as new
    whisper from a brilliant muse
    this is a haiku

    summer snow falling
    flake-white feathers, bloody quill
    red-tailed hawk flapping

    autumn starlight falling
    pale thin ghosts of fallen leaves
    on the falling leaves

  73. Kipkorir Amos

    Fallen leaves again;
    Trees are like feeling lonely —
    But birds, will be back.

    It is on the spring;
    Birds are building their houses—
    They will be chirping.

    It’s on the winter;
    Everything there, are in whites—
    It is so frigid.

    • Annanya De

      Black clouds in the sky
      Rain drops falling one by one
      Puddles on the ground

      • Eric O Owen

        Hello, Annanya De,
        If I may. Your reference to “black clouds” as a traditional haiku
        element is absolutely brilliant. I enjoyed reading your pieces.
        Thank you,

        E. Owen

  74. Yasuharu Nagura

    When the wind chime rang

    On the porch, he was hanging

    A new bamboo blind

    Reeds, thatch, and bulrush

    And rusty water fills them

    Certain places were bright

    In the paddy fields

    Weaving in and out between them

    The two of us walked

    • Annanya De

      Silently flowing
      Banks wrapped in green and blossom
      Sparkling stream in spring

  75. Annanya De

    Pretty pink flowers
    Covering the tree branches
    Spring’s cherry blossoms

  76. Asha Rose

    I’m not sure I could
    ever love somebody half
    as damaged as you

    bed hot twisted silk
    sweat heavy cold and callous
    his back turned to me

    whispers in my ear
    tugging so hard on my breasts
    he never calls again

  77. Dan McCrory

    By Dan McCrory

    The wind called her name
    “Windy”: not unexpected.
    Bad jokes imminent!

    By Dan McCrory

    Sure, why not haiku?
    You can stick words together
    And they might make sense!

    By Dan McCrory

    Not one more haiku!
    Stupid form of poetry
    Short and confusing.

  78. Ann Westgarth

    Golden gorse lined road
    March brings unexpected sun
    The future looks bright

  79. Veronica Jorge

    Three Haiku by Veronica Jorge 7/15/2022

    the erhu’s two strings
    closely attached make music
    the sound of our love

    a coursing river
    stepping stones to walk across
    living words that guide

    branches upward rise
    touching sky, reaching heaven
    outstretched arms in prayer

  80. JBo

    Judging another
    Is like knowing which seeds,
    will bud and bloom first.

  81. Fred McIlmoyle


    Sunlit dreamy days
    Float through golden summer haze
    Into memory


    Musky amber scents
    Swirl in sultry wistful air
    Infusing my mind


    White virgin snowflakes
    Winter’s gems whisper to me

  82. David Wolf

    humid afternoon—
    lone monarch fluttering low
    in long pine-shadow

    rush hour traffic jam —
    drifting across my windshield:
    downtown thistledown

    light snow blowing through—
    a few flakes on my shoe, gone . . .
    your hurry, flurries?

  83. Nolo Segundo

    solitary bird
    why sing you only of spring
    outside my window?

    I stole a flower
    from nature’s bed, bottled it
    now it is dying

    the wildflowers of spring
    dance happy in the backyard
    till the mower comes

  84. Talbot Hook

    Fiddlehead croziers
    Break the thawing ground to raise
    Volute cathedrals.

    Rainy tea harvest,
    Early mist on leaf and grave —
    Fragrant communion.

    Hikers sit, sweating;
    Anvil clouds breach horizon —
    Earth drinks greedily.

  85. Dubin Galyean

    Death-defying walk
    Blossom-hued breathing
    Sickness delayed

    We’re getting ready
    Cleaning the kitchen is first
    Then my attitude

    Creation demands love
    Love demands creation
    Delicious tyranny

  86. E. Owen

    Moon-lit summer night
    golden pathway to the shore
    shimmers on the sea

  87. Thomas

    A Plant In a Pot
    Glorifies The Morning Light
    It Rest In The Night

  88. Thomas

    The Scent Of Sweet Pine
    Joy To My Nose Heart and Mind
    My House Cleaned With Pine

  89. Thomas

    Roots Turn and Do Loop
    Trees Plants Flowers In One Troop
    Drink Roots Morning’s Juice

  90. Cheryl Corey

    under heaven’s blue,
    picking berries, berries blue—
    bluer still, this heart

    a chevron of geese
    flies aloft while acorns drop—
    ending summer’s lease

    August, long in tooth,
    reveals canines through the haze—
    renders dog-eared days

    • Thomas

      Dear Sister Corey, I’m Ever So thankful For Poetic Individuality.
      Each Phase or Statement We Make Is From Our Own Heart Reality.
      In Reading Your Work I See a Woman At Work, and Her Love In That Work.

  91. Mary F. Lee

    Beneath the slick bridge
    one dozen precocious koi
    om in unison

    • Thomas

      Hi Dear Sister Lee, You Do Drop a Fine Line.
      Foolow Writer Mary Continue To Shine.

      • Thomas

        Forgive Sister Lee For The Type O, I Meant Fellow Writer.

  92. kate Farrell

    Rain drops in puddle
    Circles forming, reforming
    Summer Alchemy.

    • Thomas

      I Do Enjoy The Rain, and Your Writing Makes Me Look Forward To The Next Down Pour, Nice, I Mean Real Nice.

  93. Mary Ekpenyong

    Mary Ekpenyong
    July 18

    Nectar to nectar
    The big butterfly flutters
    How sweet the freedom

    Mary Ekpenyong
    July 18

    Yellow autumn leaves
    Trees’ naked beauty unveils
    Cold crown of winter

    Mary Ekpenyong
    July 18

    The wet green grass swirls
    To a sunny whistling breeze
    Life after the storm

    • Thomas

      Yes I Did Enjoy * You Drew a Picture In My Mind Of a Levier Kind. All the Best Dear Sister Ekpenyong.

  94. Nina S.

    Raindrops fall on tears,
    Dilute, like streams in the sea,
    Lost in pain too deep.

    Forget-me-not blue
    Springing from frostbitten earth
    Is summer’s bright cue

    • Thomas

      Hi Nina S. * You Truly Hit a Lovely Mix Of Nature and Emotion, What a Lovely Combination.

  95. Nina S

    Raindrops mix in tears,
    Dilute, like streams in the sea
    Lost in pain too deep.

    Forget-me-not blue
    Springing from frostbitten earth
    Is Summer’s bright cue.

    • Thomas

      She’s At It Again With Another Win, Write On My Friend.

  96. Louise Kim

    snow-capped mountainside
    winter’s glow surrounding us
    setting sun’s light, red


    the perfume of stars
    sweet as shards of nebulas;
    violent explosion


    young children playing
    outside, grassy lawn and breeze
    i wish i were one

    • Thomas

      Hi Dear Sister Kim, You Certainly Went Off World and Around The World With This Fine Work, Nice!

  97. Ethan Leventhal

    When tumbling down
    Comes here all sorts from the town
    We can live for now

    Let sciences ring
    Truth and saving it shall bring
    But now nevermore

    Burning and prancing
    The world around is falling
    I am here dancing

    • Thomas

      Ethan Showing Smooth Moves At The Word Dance, Nice!

  98. Darron Moore

    Captain at the helm
    sailing beyond space and time
    in my ship of books

    Brittle limbs prostrate,
    Beg mercy from cruel lord sun.
    Damp vengeance sleeps below

    Make again my love
    Imitate her very atoms
    Only an image

  99. Shauna Checkley


    Grace from the heavens
    furry fine lines by God’s design
    purring so softly

  100. Shauna Checkley


    sheen so very clean
    each flake never a mistake
    this unique shite streak

    • Thomas

      What a Beautiful Snow Show Dear Sister Checkley, Your Words Flow Light as Snow.

  101. M. A. Dubbs

    Mourning dove crying
    to a soundless frozen lake-
    The long wait for spring

    Creek mud-bank with clams
    flecking Styrofoam pellets-
    Shucking man-made pearls

    Yellow daffodils
    poke through heavy snow blanket-
    A fool’s early spring

  102. Heather

    The glimmering dew
    shivers gently on petals
    like feathered kisses

    The cold touch of snow
    Causes shivers upon skin
    In the lonely dark

    On the precipice
    Colored leaves dance in the wind
    The golden Fall comes

  103. Maura Harrison


    Dog day drips, humid.
    Winter night sits and shivers.
    Life’s proper fever.

    His Soul

    His fingerprints mark
    the glass, oil from his stories
    shining in the light.


    I’m searching for shells
    At the turning of the tide,
    Ocean’s testament.

  104. Ryan Summers

    I can’t find my keys
    Oh well, guess I’ll walk to store
    Just kidding, found em

  105. Sydney Stellato

    Small black dog looks up –
    Full eyes glow and beg at me
    The door opens, synergy

  106. Abigael Leigh


    you don’t live longer
    raised on the city concrete;
    it just seems that way.


    no catchin’ up to
    yesterday; we burn daylight
    where buses don’t run.


    tamales stolen
    with a two-dollar pistol—
    only hell ma’ raised.

    • Eric O Owen

      Hi, Abigael Leigh,
      “Haiku San Antonio” has a wonderful emotional humor with a pivot that speaks to the wittiness, unpredictability, and keen perception that sets American haiku apart from Japanese tradition in this form. I enjoyed it immensely and still chuckle whenever I think of it.
      Thanks for making my day.

  107. Dan Galbin

    leaves in the fall wind –
    when in place of the your arms
    you want to grow wings

    • Darah Schillinger

      coming home to you
      is laying in a patch of
      sunlight that can’t fade

  108. Skylar Combs

    Little finch flitting
    Across the sun-dried meadow
    A golden angel

  109. Skylar Combs

    Willow branches sway
    Gently on a balmy breeze
    A small child’s wonder

  110. Skylar Combs

    Dreams of Grecian nights
    In summertime smell of fresh
    Rosemary and thyme

  111. Jim Burns

    Blackbirds in the snow
    ink for an unwritten song
    but soon they will fly

    Fireflies and snowflakes
    studies in fleeting beauty
    disappear when touched

    Like bright autumn leaves
    those we have loved fall away
    as winter calls them

  112. andrew shimield

    in an oak tree’s shade
    the quietness of cattle
    each twitching their tail

    Halloween party
    the devil’s fork in his hand
    bigger than he is

    on a chilly night
    a wind-blown can clattering
    down an empty street

  113. Darron Moore

    My apologies…my wife counted 6 syllables on my third…here is the rewrite:

    Brittle limbs prostrate,
    Beg mercy from cruel lord Sol.
    Damp plot sleeps below

    • Thomas

      I Responded To This Haiku, I Didn’t Catch The Miscount, Your Wife Is Certainly On the Ball. Nice Rewrite.

  114. Shade

    Body, heart, and mind
    Splintered shards too hard to find
    Leaving me behind

  115. Miranda McCoy

    Sloughed snakeskin drapes as
    we mourn the day’s end. Blanket,
    or veil, for red clay?

  116. Alexis Williams


    cool winds shake reeds loose
    darkness floods over still water
    a chorus of frogs


    red-leafed mango trees
    new birthings swell pale yellow
    consummating love


    calamansi fruit
    sun-yellowed and ripening
    closer than we were

  117. Keith Burkholder

    Science Fiction

    A form of genre,
    What do you like most in it?
    Keep an open mind.


    Very powerful,
    One can read and learn a lot,
    Have an open mind


    A reality,
    It reaches us all, too,
    This is how it is.

    • Thomas

      I Enjoyed Reading Your Haiku, I Thought “DEATH ” Fell Short. I Could Be Wrong, Take Care.

  118. Rose Jakubaszek

    Fall’s Fashion Show’s here!
    Toasted browns, yellows, and reds
    Brand new repeat looks.

    Let’s meet, you and I
    Under winter cherry trees
    Love won’t wait till spring.

  119. Linda Margaret Cheveau

    Waterfall rushing
    like pink gowns, twirling and swirling
    the cherry blossom dances.

    Bird who never flew
    flapped his wings, stayed on the ground
    hangs his head in shame.

    Clock ticks life away
    never, not going to die
    until the clock stops.

  120. P. Anthony Ramanauskas

    Hey there chickadee!
    How sweetly your song welcomes
    fair weather migrants

    Long after the sun
    has set behind the mountains
    its light yet lingers

    Vernal blood pulses
    the snowmelt from alpine heights
    My body, a river

  121. Don Reese

    Queen Anne’s lace is quick
    sudden crowd on our corner
    uninvited offspring

    bare feet picking through
    damp stones left at a low tide
    each reveal deep space

    dog’s paw in mid-air
    nose to a fresh sudden breeze–
    pet rabbit escaped

  122. Miranda McCoy

    Oaks self-amputate,
    drifting their sun-toned decay:
    alms for future sprouts.

    California fires
    feast, then scatter their takings.
    Stone-fruits thrive in ash.

  123. Gregory Lanzo

    wintry white petals
    drift into frozen sunset
    napping on lone bench

  124. Gregory Lanzo

    a fallen oak leaf
    floating down mountain river
    journey to the sea

  125. Margaret Coats

    Martin, “These buds opening” and “Curious concert” were submitted in the 2021 competition, and “Curious concert” earned a place among runners-up. It is so good I used it among examples for “What Makes A Good Haiku?” The 2022 competition asks for new haiku, written during the past year. And each competitor may submit only three entries. Please reply here to withdraw the older haiku which are not eligible. And if you wish, add another to the two eligible ones above.

    • Martin Elster

      Dear Margaret,

      Thanks for letting me know. I didn’t realize that “Curious Concert” was among the runner-up in last year’s contest. (I’ll submit 2 new ones.)

      That’s great news. In fact, I’m going to read your article about “What Makes a Good Haiku.” I can’t wait to read it!

      I’ll try to delete those two haiku you mentioned. I’m not sure how to do it. But if you know how, please feel free to do so.

      All the best,

  126. Margaret Coats

    Of course! I will alert the moderator to delete your previous entries, and I look forward to the new ones.

  127. Kip Rosser

    Scouring summer woods
    for the chanterelle mushroom;
    a faun watches me.

    June wind breathes sea grass.
    June wind breathes the ocean waves.
    My kite inhales, soars.

    Our herb garden’s song:
    summertime thyme, mint, and
    basil in concert.

  128. Susan Finnis

    Embers damp with dew.
    Sun looms on the horizon;
    The last campfire, gone.

  129. Lorna Ye

    autumn breeze flipping
    through pages to the bookmark
    of dried rose petals

    Your last day of work
    The sky beaming baby blue
    Air tangy with earth

  130. Allegra Jostad Silberstein

    I watched a leaf fall
    to the ground without a sound . . .
    heard its silent song

    Tonight planet Mars
    is caught in the moon’s halo
    Red Warrior at peace

    In the deep of sky
    a great white cloud, a shadow
    My mother looks down

  131. Linda Marie Hilton

    suddenly sunshine
    maxes daylight hours coaxing
    our crops to ripen.

  132. Linda Marie Hilton

    sweet smell of grass: a
    field with horses galloping
    summer heat lingers.

  133. Linda Marie Hilton

    shiver crunching leaves
    walk briskly bundled up to
    Thanksgiving Dinner.

  134. Judith Owa

    Take a sip of tea
    Allow nature bless your tongue
    As you watch the rain

  135. Judith Owa

    Rich bloom of colours
    The earthy scent of wet soil
    –Remnants of the rain.

  136. Judith Owa

    Let the winds sit still
    And the clouds hold back their tears
    ‘Til my love comes home.

  137. Lynn Wright

    Storm-bruised summer sky
    black-winged, velvet butterfly
    time and rain pass by

  138. Martin Elster

    Singing mockingbird—
    this heatwave can’t compete with
    your sweet obsession.

    As a city screams
    its glare, above these barrens
    gleams the Milky Way.

    Spring’s tomfoolery
    can’t fool us; hocus-pocus
    and — look! — a crocus!

  139. Caleb Ogwuru


    We watch stars find their
    feet from the Pyrenees peaks
    And still there is heat


    Fighting monsoon tears
    Rivers run away from here
    Carrying feeling


    Hands without motion
    Locked within ocean frost lost
    Just for a moment

  140. Julie Stacey

    grey skies hold gull flights
    Haverigg birds sing for us
    our lives by the sea

    giggles on the breeze
    crashing ripples trickle home
    sandscape memories

    bright reflected sun
    hot feet hop as dry beaks drop
    whoosh! wings in flight

  141. Alex Lanzo

    seabed of seaweed
    begins to swim toward daybreak

  142. Alex Lanzo

    a hull-bound oyster
    peeks at me with sea-flecked eyes
    joining my journey

  143. Maurizio Brancaleoni

    midsummer’s night
    trying not to tread on
    milky reflection

    night – I look out
    motionless in the moonlight
    a cat on the street

    ©Maurizio Brancaleoni

  144. Andrea Kreidler

    The street light strobes as
    if my lonely walk is a
    night at the disco

    All winter the buds
    prepare to briefly dazzle
    before decaying

    My worldview is an
    onrushing red waterfall when
    a rock strikes my head

  145. kate Farrell

    Moonlight is a balm.

    Aromas perfume the air.

    After harvesting.

  146. Judy Lynn Ichkhanian

    Unbent, I follow
    Fading foot-trace in water,
    Tears return me home.

    Snoring on pillows,
    Perfume of sugared wet dog,
    Brown eyes bring me home.

    A hundred years you
    Promised, a flight into stars,
    Now ash, all song, gone.


    Spring´s new lemon moon,
    curved slice of fruit, heaven-made:
    birth is bitter sweet.

    Scarecrows flank the fields,
    worms work the soil night and day:
    turkeys smell a rat.

    Monsoons flood the fields.
    moonlight breast-feeds the foot-hills:
    neap tides are turning


    Please change in haiku 2 ,line 1, fank to flank! Thank you!

    • Sado Marinovic

      A Leaf strewn by the
      wind settles into place and
      is then tossed again

  149. Purbasha Roy

    My three haikus-

    Summer love story
    Grass and lady beetle
    Swing in the dawn wind

    I watch sunflower fields
    From the bus going to town
    The winking noon sun

    Tree shadows stretch far
    June dusk on the quiet dirt road
    Swans drift back to home

  150. Stephen Page

    cicadas silent–
    a red-spotted butterfly
    upon white lupin

    the path to the park
    lined invitingly with trees–
    dark clouds rolling in

    entering the park
    a few days after the storm–
    smell the drying leaves!

  151. Michael David Eaton

    Forests burn at night
    Bright embers float heavenward
    Stars light up the sky

    Turtle, a green leaf,
    blown slowly over the ground
    by a lazy breeze

    The mockingbird sings
    Even more it loves to fight
    The crow flies away

  152. John Sheills

    I’ve stumbled over your website in trawling the internet at my local library (I’m not on line at home). I’ve x3 haiku to present for inclusion in your Haiku competition which closes mid next month (August 2022).
    I trust I’m fllowing the proper entry protocols. The three pieces are as folows:

    Fall’s artillery
    Acorns spatter on my roof
    Rat! Tat! Winter comes

    Spent leaf lies dormant
    On the breast of another
    Winter pieta

    Breakdance bravado
    Side-walk Cafe Sparrows flit
    Trading manoeuvres

    Cheers John S.

    • Margaret Coats

      Thanks for your contributions, John! Please check back after the contest closes, to see the announcement of the winner and runners-up. I don’t know the exact date, but after some days for judging, it will appear in the Society of Classical Poets POETRY column, under the same picture that announced the competition, of a Japanese man playing a flute.

      • john Sheills

        Reply to Margaret Coates Reply: ‘Thanks for your helpful clarification Margaret. Reviewing my submissions I spotted that ‘typo’
        in the middle line of my third haiku – the word ‘sparrows’ should of course not begin with that capitalized ‘S’
        Thanks again, John S.

  153. Vasile Moldovan

    Hidden under the barn
    protected by the weather
    a nest of swallow

    I can barely see
    through the verry flowered skirt
    the flower of her body

    the first butterfly
    in the barely halfclosed flower-
    messenger of spring

  154. Ignacio

    The rabbit runs scared
    Hungry wolves snap at its feet
    The life of taxpayers

    I grab the old book
    Hints of must and vanilla
    A tear for Grandma

    Old hands guide the young
    Life and song cling to paper
    Memories are formed

  155. Abdul-basit Alaro

    A pair of green flames
    The flight of a sly black cat
    -basking in shadows.

    A young flower buds
    A white man sheaths his bald head-
    Beneath the sun’s smirk.

  156. Colt Henderson

    Love isolation?
    Staring into the abyss
    And finding freedom

  157. Brooke Kolcow

    sidewalk oozes heat
    green bushes moan locust songs
    I am oozing sweat

    with winter waning
    Canada geese honk-shoo-honk
    Mr. Crow cackles

    mustache is sweaty
    as the lake rumbles thunder
    sky downpours sweetly

  158. steve kieninger

    my reflection in
    the top of the toilet bowl
    refused the Autumn

    Night falls later now
    Summer on the horizon
    of my younger days

    Over June’s west wind,
    Autumns red sky approaches
    unbeknownst to me

  159. Gwendolyn Kudra Billings


    of most importance
    only realized once lost!
    even dust settles

  160. Gwendolyn Kudra Billings


    claustrophobic gaze
    amplified when the curtain
    reveals my stage fright

    • Gwendolyn Kudra Billings

      I’m sorry for this mistaken entry – Could this one please be deleted/disregarded, as I misunderstood the rules when posted and I realize it doesn’t fit? May I please have this one considered in its place? :


      fresh february
      to be a bud newly bloomed!
      sweet tooth vanity

      • Margaret Coats

        Thanks for your three entries and your note, Gwendolyn. “Filmed” will not be counted, but it will be left here. Deleting it might also delete “Birth” as part of the same comment thread.

  161. Gwendolyn Kudra Billings


    how miraculous
    tiny skull fits in my palm…
    gulliver or god?

  162. Zack Mitchell

    Welcome Bell

    Remaining hopeful
    The old dusty welcome bell
    Waits prepared with cheer.

    Born Again Alone

    With the oak hollow
    A new womb, the fledgling owl
    Learns to hunt alone.


    My new taste for prunes
    Stir memories of Poppa
    In Summer’s loincloths.

  163. Kevin Johnston

    Fair casing of frost
    Preserves stout boughs while indoors
    Flames consume their kin

    Legs taut, the lone ant
    Drags his load ‘neath blazing sky
    No one comes to help

    Some mourn the descent
    But wisdom sees leaves return
    To their place of birth

  164. kate Farrell

    Waves of twittering
    Ancient spells and rituals
    loud praises and adieus.

  165. Elizabeth Gauffreau

    a shift in the air
    scent of dying wildflowers
    August cruelest month

    new growth maples, pines
    farmer’s forgotten stone wall
    a forest reclaimed

    ombre sky, cool air
    twilight comes to the mountain
    lone hawk circles, keens

  166. Manon van Mil

    Birds on this branch, that
    branch, those connect. Sing loudly –
    not loud enough yet

    Sea-buckthorn berries
    Leaves falling, roots fixing sand
    How much can you hold?

    Millipedes, woodlice,
    a mycorrhizal network
    Light in a dark place

  167. Marie Ryall

    June trees full of life
    Cicada shells left behind
    Their songs haunt the night

    Daylight breaks the sky
    and reaches for my window
    with stories to tell

    Forest reflections
    hypnotize in waves below
    Beckoning me home

  168. Ngo Binh Anh Khoa

    a cicada’s husk
    grandfather in his best suit
    hands folded, eyes closed

    mid-autumn river
    a lone boat ferrying the
    moonlight back to port

    graduation day
    the twisting river reaches
    the vast open sea

    • E. Owen

      Hi, Ngo, as you may already know, conceptualization is one of traditional Haiku’s most important components for delivering its meaning. Pieces 1 and 2 not only delivered on conceptual imagery but added the difficult contrast of stillness and anticipation of rebirth in poem 1 and conceptual motion which many find difficult to master in poem 2. You did both quite well. I was extremely impressed and enjoyed both pieces. Thank you.

  169. Mantz Yorke

    Cerulean sky
    above yellow sunflowers.
    The smell of burning.

  170. Aoife Byrne

    Hedgerows pulse with life
    The worm’s wriggle is futile
    Young mouths open wide

    Snow-muted landscape
    Creatures slumber in silence
    Waiting for Spring’s call

    Bales festoon the fields
    The farmer labors and waits
    For the sun’s magic

  171. Milan Rajkumar

    local train station—
    quenching summer’s thirsty throats
    a sudden downpour

    a lump of cold clay …
    the shape of a calm Buddha
    in meditation

    cold sniper’s bullet …
    the thud in the chest pocket
    where her photo is

  172. Ellen E Whitehead

    In waning winter
    a dried thistle bloom appears
    on my snowy path

    Open your mouth wide
    red-winged blackbird and yodel
    Spring’s joyous return!

    Cascading down rocks
    a woodland stream finds its way
    giggling as it goes

  173. Susan Burneson

    Summer moon streams in
    Silver light across the bed
    There, the cat once lay

    In dark, cool water
    white swan glides, leaves in its wake
    summer moon fragments

    Poised swan, moving feet
    Poised summer moon, moving Earth
    Illusion and grace

  174. Brian Yapko

    The winter sun sets…
    Pure crystalline icicles
    prism twilight’s death

    Crimson maple leaves
    Floating in the temple pond
    Blush at cold, bare trees

    Bursts of spring lightning
    Illumine plum-tree spirits.
    Blossoms rend the wind

  175. Ma.Paz Diaz

    What is quietude?
    Do you will heart not to break ~
    Squeeze tight and shatters?

  176. Ma.Paz Diaz

    Rocking chairs lull me ~
    But I cry on them sometimes
    When the sun’s hues dull

  177. E.K. Starling

    In thick summer air
    Swarmed ravenous mosquitos
    Undeterred by rain

    Birds splash in the lake
    Catching fish that try to flee
    The snap of a beak

    Orange wings flutter
    Colors fleeting like a song
    Monarch butterfly

  178. Finn Mac Eoin

    Rosemary was a

    Sage-Femme, yet, when she had Thyme,

    used Dill though, s’Parsley !

  179. Finn Mac Eoin

    Image result of black cat
    Hieroglyphic Haiku
    Four Paw Faux Pas
    (with translation)

    ∞ § ¶ • ªº
    –≠ ß ∂ ƒ˙ ∆˚¬ Ω
    √ ∫ ˜µ ≤≥ œ

    Lame cat walks across
    QWERTY keyboard creating
    Hieroglyphic Haik-

  180. Finn Mac Eoin

    ∞ § ¶ • ªº
    –≠ ß ∂ ƒ˙ ∆˚¬ Ω
    √ ∫ ˜µ ≤≥ œ

    Lame cat walks across
    QWERTY keyboard creating
    Hieroglyphic Haik-

  181. Gabriel Awuah Mainoo

    the wind carts the refugee boy’s teddy bear
    and back

    windy Sabbath…
    a praying mantis slips
    from the crucifix

    Mount Emei
    an orphan-bird navigates its fate
    in Buddha’s palm

    • Gabriel Awuah Mainoo

      Dear admin,
      Kindly find my new submission orderly arranged. I noticed the first submission I mistakenly pressed the enter key which made “and back” come down eventually distorting the form. Thank you.

      the wind carts the refugee boy’s
      teddy bear and back

      windy Sabbath…
      a praying mantis slips
      from the crucifix

      Mount Emei
      an orphan-bird navigates its fate
      in Buddha’s palm

      • Margaret Coats

        Thank you, Gabriel, for making the correction and clearly displaying your poems.

  182. Lucia Haase

    children play hopscotch
    amidst a bright horizon
    a stone’s throw away

    on this Autumn eve
    geese fly into the sunset
    and there is order

  183. Jyi Jyo

    Wet cement sky leaks
    the hills melt into red sludge
    banana plants mould

    Savanna noon sun
    licks the grasslands beige with thirst
    lone elephant migrates

    The charcoal milk goat
    purple mouthed lies on a mat
    of African pears

  184. Sumit

    A gush of chill wind
    Golden hour with no gold light
    Plain greyness in sight

    The absence of sun
    Evening adds pinch blue to greys
    Cooling down stillness


    Greens turn to light brown,
    Light rolls down the floor tiles,
    The smell of winter.

  185. Madeline Weyand

    Lips turn deep blue hue
    Gentle white snow, flakes fall
    Cold wind ousts bird calls

    brown rug, crunching steps
    winding roots, they dare to trip
    back down, it’s green up

    Soft, pink, delicate
    moisture leaves flower, finds tongue
    savoring each drip

  186. Phoebe Rhinehart

    Interrupt the form:
    What stars? What rain? What meadow?
    Describe the abyss

    • Darron Moore

      Oak looms under sun
      Over grove of flowers
      Dapple gilds lily

      • Margaret Coats

        Darron, this poem doesn’t seem to describe the abyss, as Phoebe asked. But if this is a reply to her, please confirm that it’s not a further contest entry. I find your three entries above at July 19, with a correction on July 21. Thanks.

      • Darron Moore

        Margaret, yes this was a reply. While not a direct answer, the intention was to show the emptiness of a dark gesture on the openly enlightened, so illustrating a vast void.

  187. Ed Ahern

    Submitted for the haiku contest.

    fly velocity
    is two wing beats faster than
    my swinging swatter

    leaves droop and curl
    fainting breezes swirl hot air
    shaded breaths shallow

    little river low
    soundlessly meandering
    living tucked away

    282 Buena Vista Rd.
    Fairfield, CT 06825

    Ed Ahern resumed writing after forty odd years in foreign intelligence and international sales. He’s had four hundred stories and poems published so far, and six books. Ed works the other side of writing at Bewildering Stories, where he sits on the review board and manages a posse of nine review editors. He’s also lead editor at The Scribes Micro Fiction magazine.

  188. Sharmon Gazaway

    fan of eyes shivers
    hypnotic blue suitor struts
    dull peahen’s bored gaze

  189. Jordan B

    Warm honey once more
    nurturing light feeds the skin
    yet the sun must set

    Fruitful and fertile
    bloom fights the icy ennui
    promising new birth

    The sun bids farewell
    bloodcurdling cicada croon
    singing summers end

  190. Ed Meek


    Each spring when time wings
    silently by, my butterfly,
    will you cocoon me?


    The molecules of water
    join hands each winter–so cold…
    they can’t even move.

    In August

    Like a rock holds the
    heat of the sun through the night
    I hold your memory

  191. Rebekah Nigro

    #1 Spring-
    I place bets in rain
    Only watching the windows
    For raindrop races

    #2 Summer-
    You always yell “cows”
    Sleeping spots on the green field
    Our road trip comfort.

    #3 Fall-
    I pity the snow
    That never lands in Autumn
    Nor sees the leaves change.

  192. Arlene Downing-Yaconelli

    sultry summer hum
    white hives buzz in the orchard
    winter’s honeyed toast

  193. Sharmon Gazaway

    the ghost crab scuttle
    dance of dark on warm wet sand
    reel with tide and foam

  194. Brianna C

    Winter grips us still
    Icicle soul siesta
    Drip me back to life

  195. Alice O’Brien

    how full is the moon
    on this blissful August night
    shining down on me

    now here comes the sun
    welcoming in the daylight
    bringing me to life

    the wind in my hair
    as I dance with the flowers
    in the lush meadow

  196. Jan Rowell E. Favor

    the sunless heavens mourn
    like hopscotch players that cry
    rain on summer’s end

    • E. Owen

      Hi, Jan,
      If I may, I liked this poem and use of simile, but if it’s okay, you would nail this haiku form if you drop the article (the) in the first line, and perhaps add balance to the simile by choosing a two-syllable word that speaks to your intent in place of “that.” For example, try ‘lament’ and replace “rain on summer’s end” with “rain at summer’s end.” Hope to see more from you.

  197. Jan Rowell E. Favor

    walking with a crutch
    my urban foot feels the sand
    of this quiet beach

  198. Ariana Barreto

    Title: Mr.Softee
    Watch the sprinkles dance
    Twirl around the ice cream swirl
    My block was chosen

    Title: NYC Summer
    Walk outside, all eyes
    Sun-kissed thighs under blue skies
    Door knockers glisten

    Title: Bodega Blues
    Where there are corners
    Bodegas are always found
    Only when you “Yerrr”

  199. Peter Venable


    Over grassy dunes
    Sea Oats lash at sun-burned legs
    Sand spurs prick my heel

    Surfers slice through waves
    Pelicans swerve through troughs
    A gull steals my chips

    A speck of ship bobs
    On sea and sky horizon
    I am a sand grain

    • Margaret Coats

      Peter, someone who appears to be your lower-case avatar posted a beach haiku on July 4. Only three contest entries per poet are allowed. Please let me know which three you prefer, or disclaim identity with peter venable. Thanks!

  200. Bob McGinness

    Plodding uncut lawn.
    Where to, so purposefully,
    I ask? Turtle knows!

    Wistful Goldenrod,
    trembles in the dusting snow.
    Calling back summer.

    Decomposing leaves
    rest on symbiotic soil
    Survive forever!

  201. Sharmon Gazaway

    blue bowl sky scrubbed clean
    clouds wrung out and pinned to air
    all hung out to dry

  202. Fartfist

    *These are taken from Fartfist’s fourth volume of literary works
    “Seventeen Haiku For Humanity”* (Which were written in 2021)

    Ignorance is one

    The bowl, before the water

    How much can it hold

    ~ eight


    This is two, like sun and moon

    It is there always

    ~ nine

    Willingness to act

    Is three; like the spring flower

    Interested in living

    ~ ten

  203. Chris ~cliff~ Reichard

    Entry #1 Devil’s Breath

    Blist’ry wind’s revenge,
    ashen snow falls heaviest
    in nuclear winter.

    Entry #2 Famine to Feast

    Hot rain pours over
    tainted fields long abandoned.
    Resurrections spark.

    Entry #3 Blood Orchid

    One crimson drop spilt
    feeding the seed sown below.
    From death, petals bloom.

  204. Linda Bell

    Linda Bell entry

    Flute longs for its branch
    Violin longs for its tree
    Soul sings to the sea

  205. Ben Labelle

    Rain on glass tapping
    Pooling, catching green or red
    Is now wiped away

    Bald squirrel prostrates
    And gnaws a ripe potato
    Must be a chipmonk

    Leaves powdered with frost
    Icing for caterpillars
    Glint in autumn dusk

  206. Edward Gutt


    A lone squirrel works.
    Two or three chase each other,
    Playing around trees.

    Nature Reveres Itself

    Winds blow and trees bow –
    Thanking clouds for bringing rain
    That nourish sacred trees.

  207. natalie tokita

    wistful white blossoms,
    how gold you look in the sun!
    night falls with you here.

    daisies strung in chains,
    tangled in the robin’s crest.
    singing, winging, gone.

    the last fallen rose
    wilts sweetly, lightly, slowly,
    blushing so faintly.

    • Nille Akor

      To join nature, this noon.
      To be a bird on Spring’s tree,
      Singing songs, flying free. Away.

      To the colourful tweeting birds_
      I woke, from my fairytale dream, beholding,
      A sunny sky, summer’s day.

      Dancing fish, out of water.
      Wriggling and twisting, left and right. Yearning.
      Splash! It feels water again.

      • Ling Chuxi

        Thank you for telling me about this contest . You go girl!

  208. Akari Ikeda

    Water beads trickle
    down my neck and down my glass
    of lemonade and jazz

    Blanketing asphalt
    Frozen layers
    of snow, slush, salt

    Petals kiss my nose
    Mountains wear pink blush and smile
    Blossom rise and fall

  209. Ling Chuxi

    Camels are the desert’s glory.
    The oasis lacks by the sand dunes.
    What bird dare to fly?

    A rock beyond the river,
    Living centuries, with air of grand stillness.
    What would be it’s company?

    Deary winds and empty trees,
    Greet my waking, along dewy colourful leaves,-
    Fallen leaves and dry grass.

  210. M'nile Francis

    Wait for the last leaf
    And sun, to drop, shine. In harmony-
    Under trees. Paint this autumn.

    Night and rain, one and
    Whispering, “let us share the open secret.
    Roar what the heart says”.

    Yesterday, the pea was seed.
    Today, it is out, dancing to winds.
    Come Morn, it will dew.

  211. Allen Hagemaster

    Lady fall pursues
    Family views the river
    Exhales on my skin

    Long warm fulfilling
    Change of seasons conflict rift
    Damaged what if’s black

  212. Srini

    so far yet so near
    winter stars soon become friends
    to those who have none

    suburban midnight
    whirring air-conditioners
    keep the crickets up

    high-rise balcony
    the perfect panorama
    of summertime smog

  213. Amanda Nicholson

    Wanting to go on
    Nature’s last summer day, yet
    Nature calls, head home

    Staring at the sun
    Setting over the forest
    Goodbye to summer

    Leaves throw themselves down
    Now that summer is over
    Fearing what comes next

  214. Ernesto P. Santiago

    the time of writing
    so helpful to the author
    a garnish of sage

  215. Donna Lynne Griggs

    Sense-soaked to the bone
    On rich banana plant leaves
    Worms cryˎ journey on

    Sun on fingertips
    Beams of life run through our grasp
    No one owns the light

    Teased by winter’s breath
    Sakuras bat their lashes
    And wind-flowers fall

    • Maria

      Hi Donna Lynne Griggs, my name is Maria, Mary is also nice. Despite being beautiful, your poem bears a strong resemblance to one composed by another exceptionally talented and eloquent young poet named Jijo who has also composed a haiku for this contest. The verbiage she uses is extremely unique and specific to her, so seeing you post something similar is extremely suspicious. Look her up and see if there are any similarities and act accordingly. My best wishes to you.

      • Margaret Coats

        Maria, one haiku submitted by Jyi Jyo on August 1 speaks of banana plants, but otherwise I see no similarity between her poems and those of Donna Lynne Griggs. The Griggs haiku mentioning banana plant leaves uses an ancient Japanese poetic convention in speaking of the worms’ cry, which cannot possibly be unique to any modern poet.

  216. Danica Peterson

    Running out of thyme
    It is mint to be divine
    A dill-icious dish

    Sweet fruits of season
    Summer better than others
    Berry good to me

    Wave to the beaches
    Suns and daughters together
    Special sand to hold

  217. Robert Dickerson

    If to die’s to tire
    of your blue, dewy lupine
    I am immortal.

    Over the pavement
    dragging itself through aether
    singing butterfly.

    High up in the sky
    O buzzard, your shadow falls
    on some patch of earth.

  218. Dibyasree Nandy

    Emerald fronds sway;
    dewdrop, teary, wrenched away
    from lover of jade.

    The young bud blushes
    as summer cicadas trill.
    Red sprouts, kiss of bill.

    Crystal flakes, silver;
    Hobnailed foot-marks deep in pairs;
    Chiming church carols.

  219. Christopher Heath

    dandelion pox
    garlic plugs the oral route

    sun-locked and tinctured
    April like a dumb disease
    sneezes between dates

    footsteps populate
    multiplying involvement
    there and there and there

  220. Ronald S. Cena

    Light clears the path, then.
    Now, beauty is clearly seen.
    Eternity reigns.

    When one sows, one reaps
    Receiving consequences
    Actions produce fruits

    With toil comes sweet gain
    Feet and hands labor to earn
    Glad hearts follow suit

  221. Elton Hudgins

    High in the Sky
    Monarch Butter flys galore
    Only a few flutter by

  222. Mary Virginia Vietor

    wet dog strains to chase
    pigeons from puddles, who rise
    like the scent of rain

    The streetlight blinks off.
    Dawn pearls the sky discreetly
    Erases the stars

  223. wendy lee klenetsky

    that’s what all people say
    Then I guess I’m “NUTS!”

  224. wendy lee klenetsky

    that’s what all the people say
    Then I guess I’m “NUTS!”

  225. RPAD

    Still, hot countryside;
    restless insects buzzing, cut
    by a lone cyclist.

    Longing for winter,
    lasting strife draining the land,
    until a storm breaks.

    A secret growing,
    a promise all summer long.
    And then, you are born.

  226. David Williamson

    a church bell pealing
    potatoes for midday lunch
    sunday roast today

  227. Mark Beck

    Bruised, swollen, cut
    The sting of eating crisps
    More Bonjela please

  228. Mary-Ini Okaka

    Dead leaves fall and dance…
    A little bit of cold rain,
    a desperate wish.

    Young nuns pray sadly,
    The wisteria weeps gold…
    Tears, pain and cold.

    A bonfire crackles,
    little faces smile and glow…
    A picture of warmth.

  229. Fallency

    From the tree of life
    Howling winds screaming covid
    tore another leaf

    Torrential rain seen:
    weeping clouds are mourning death
    amid pandemic

  230. Juliet Wilson

    winter cemetery –
    the last moments of a mouse
    are etched in the snow

    harvest moon rises
    through the tree’s tangled branches –
    a tawny owl calls

    the old enemies
    shake hands for the cameras –
    cherry blossom blooms

  231. X. Beattie

    Plastic Haiku

    On the beach, plastic
    catches the light, looking like
    ocean left behind.

  232. Dottie Joslyn

    I sit in the tree
    gold leaves falling around me
    wealth abounds for me

    autumn glows within
    sunlight through the deep shadows
    a sprinkle of gold

    sun setting early
    gold sinking into the dark
    stark limbs against sky

  233. Ella Mask

    Trees blow their pollen
    Like clumps of cotton drifting
    Snow in hot July

    A desert monsoon
    Rain lashes across the sky
    And floods the parched ground

    The lawnmower growls
    Destroying animal homes
    The snail speeds away

  234. Marlin Mattson

    Saturday night I
    washing everything in sight
    retire lonely.

    Waiting to dilate
    in the eye-doctor’s office
    Argus to Oedipus

    Feasted it withers
    fasted it fattens: for love
    forfeit is surfeit

  235. James Presley

    disdaining either
    fight or flight, finch sits a fist
    on the barbed wire fence

    autumn leaves shimmer–
    the world is awash in a
    concerto of colors

    bright headlights blink by–
    fireflies soon swallowed up by
    omnivorous night

  236. Kate Yang

    A cerulean sky
    Pricked by a gold flecked forest
    Where the sun hides lies

  237. Shobha Tharoor Srinivasan

    Covid Crises

    We demand answers!
    Oxygen concentrators
    Still stuck with Customs.

    Planes land with supplies.
    Despite the scramble, no one
    Gets aid they must have.

    Pain, tears and anger,
    Loss that belongs to us all.
    How much can be borne?

  238. Alex Price

    The butterflies dance
    Amongst the purple flowers
    Bees sing them a song

    The heart’s jar, empty
    Experience fills it up
    To the brim and more

    The morning dew drop
    Nature’s magnifying glass
    Wonders to behold

  239. Adele Evershed

    first sign of winter
    a sudden sprinkle of snow
    settles in her hair

    a ghost moth cocoon
    filled with the scent of jasmine
    and all our sorrows

    solo sentinel
    the blue heron reflecting
    at the water’s edge

  240. Pat Murphy McClelland

    fog wisps wreathe dawn’s peaks
    indolent sun sleeps past noon
    Pasadena spring


    iris on the brink
    of bloom sometimes hesitates
    spring is full of caprice

  241. Samuel Ojile

    this winter solstice —
    the only embers we see
    on night’s cigarette

    crickets retiring—
    her call for help too
    becomes dead silence

    suitcase of summer;
    a letter to solitude
    in the blooming trees.

  242. Julia Putzke

    a key phrase, thank you
    a heart lifted from the break
    sudden turnaround

  243. Daniela Misso

    packing box, moving …
    the chirp of a lone cricket
    on my window sill
    the fading fragrance
    of freshly laundered curtains
    heaviness of heat
    an old memory
    yellow leaves falling slowly
    upon the river

  244. Zachary Herman

    Beckon for the ink
    Fools dance under the dead stars
    The sun is raptured

    Parade birds drift south
    Meaningless meaningless time
    Awake me in spring

    Falter to the soil
    The trees could die in great flame
    Yet lives beneath nail

  245. Christie

    A girl of seasons
    Watch her burn and bloom and freeze
    Slowly melt away

  246. Susan Andrelchik

    First breeze of autumn,
    welcomed by parched plants and land.
    Refreshing their hope.

    See the glaciers shrink?
    Alarming in time-lapse films!
    Wading through puddles.

    Ceaseless rolls of waves
    Gull squawks heard above the crash
    Menacing and free

  247. Sarah Acton

    With spring, death comes too.
    Visiting next door, and then,
    I judge the silence.

    How dare the mums to
    Bloom when all else dies in fall?
    The audacity.

    Lonely house, silent
    Except for soft cat feet and
    Vibrating crickets.

  248. Cydni Turner

    nearing summer’s end
    the earth marches on, wrapped in
    winter’s cold embrace

    pressing thoughts clamor,
    the roar of the waterfall
    drowns all worries

    a choir of crickets sings,
    performing for the night
    the same lilting tune

    • Joseph Buehler

      A dark-eyed brown hued
      rabbit sits calmly in our
      back yard, eating grass

      A doe emerges from
      the tree line; we watch her from
      a silent window

  249. Pamela Oliveira

    See-through dress of gauze
    Pond water teases my toes
    Foreplay of moonlight.

    Turn your eyes to me
    I too am lonely, you see
    on the old park bench

  250. Sheila DeBonis

    Parched dirt slurps soundly,
    Supple plants bend in the breeze.
    Uproar; cry of relief.

    Loungers rush inside.
    Sulfuric scent, stellar cracks.
    Grey beads, branches bouncing.

    Big, bawling heavens,
    Trembling figures…in…out…
    It’s the farmer’s joy.

  251. Barbara L Silberg

    Raindrops fall with the
    mathematical precision
    of abacus beads.

    I am a geisha:
    you, my lover, gone to war.
    Crimson blossoms fall.

    A peony floats
    upon the still, blue water.
    Or is it the moon?

  252. Cella Josephine

    The winds are blowing,
    A lot more than they used to.
    I used to have you.

    Perfect, graceful, smooth
    Dance is everything you aren’t.
    But it’s all you have.

  253. Greg love

    As a raindrop falls,
    A thirsty plant awaits it,
    Raindrops are not fools,

    An owl hoots at night,
    Not in anger but laughter,
    Night time is a hoot,

    Wisps of smoke at dawn,
    First morning light reignites,
    The fire burns again,

  254. Amanda Leigh Gagnon

    City heat mirage
    Cooper’s hawk reflects in pane
    Distorted nature

    Monsoon Earth is chopped
    Partially lit by the sun
    Half under shade clouds

    Spring embellishments
    Wild eggs decorate cup nests
    Flowers adorn fields

  255. Deborah Beauchamp

    Autumn falling down,
    trees crying leaves of orange,
    darkness kills the sun.

  256. Deborah Beauchamp

    The biting cold slap
    stings from your winter demise.
    Alone with the ice.

  257. Lori Luhrman

    cedars stand and smile,
    welcome the autumn winds while
    green fields bid farewell.

    evening burns slowly
    air thick, sticky with remnants
    of summer’s caress.

  258. Samuel Ojile

    this winter solstice —
    the birthing of fierce embers
    on night’s cigarette

    crickets retiring—
    the silence of dawn lingers
    her call for help too

    summer holiday;
    in the blooming flowers
    first signs of beauty.

    Please this is an edited version of my previous submission. Do disregard the previous comment and consider this. Thanks.

    • Samuel Ojile

      this winter solstice —
      the birthing of fierce embers
      on night’s cigarette

      crickets retiring—
      the silence of dawn lingers
      her call for help too

      summer holiday;
      in the blooming of flowers
      first signs of beauty.

      • Margaret Coats

        Samuel, I take this last set of three haiku as your entries. Thank you.

  259. Dave Spinelli

    Hummingbird feeder
    Patiently waiting a guest
    Despite all the ants

    A deer crossed the road
    Antlers covered in velvet
    Wiffle ball delayed

    Among the boulders
    Hide n’ go seek in the woods
    Everybody peeks

  260. Stefanie Bucifal

    snowy village path
    the smell of anko leads me
    to a stranger’s door

  261. Stefanie Bucifal

    blue morning-glories
    mirroring a cloudless sky
    blue morning-glories

  262. Richard Oberrieder

    Gold coin in the sky
    throwing into the fountain
    summer’s sparkling lights

    A laughing child runs
    under the jet watering
    a little rainbow

    • Richard Oberrieder

      The frog comes out
      the bat returns to cave
      spring’s rain sings a song

    • Richard Oberrieder

      Dear Margaret Coats, can you take this last set of three haiku as my entries ? Thank you.

      Gold coin in the sky
      throwing into the fountain
      summer’s sparkling wish

      A laughing child runs
      under the jet watering
      a little rainbow

      The frog comes out
      the bat returns to cave
      spring’s rain sings a song

      • Margaret Coatds

        The last three are counted as your entries. Thanks for participating in the competition.

  263. James

    A fresh sprout grows as
    Mourners lay flowers on graves
    Tears will water both

  264. Brittany

    The city was less
    dewy in the mornings now
    robins search for worms

  265. Kiary

    a broken kingdom
    a task is left from our king
    for the Hawaiians

  266. Grace

    hard to hold your hand –
    does the vulture kiss the dove?
    the sun sets on us.

  267. Ellen Baker

    My Haiku for contest due by Aug. 15, 2022

    Spring Fukushima
    Shake Rattle and Roll KABOOM
    Fall Fukushima

  268. Larry Bole

    a shift in the wind~
    suddenly I’m surrounded
    by unseen roses

    another autumn:
    I feel old enough to sink
    into my shadow

    a lovely shower
    of leaves . . . as if a woman
    had let down her hair. . .

  269. Angel L Villanueva

    a flying lapis
    mellifluous scenery
    blue jay on a branch

    ocean waves on rocks
    thunderous cacophony
    no one listening

    autumn hues on trees
    rainbow colors on their boughs
    dead in winter gust

  270. Toshiji Kawagoe

    The first bonito
    of the season hits fresh high
    The return of spring

    • Toshiji Kawagoe

      “The first bonito of the season” is a seasonal reference in spring. The Japanese believes that eating the first bonito is a secret to a good health and long life since Edo era. The high price in the auction of the first bonito is always a newsworthy event in spring in Japan.

      Japanese version:

  271. Toshiji Kawagoe

    An antiwar song
    gradually dies away
    on the Bastille day

    • Toshiji Kawagoe

      “the Bastille day” (巴里祭) is a seasonal reference in summer.
      For the people suppressed by the war and tyranny.

      Japanese version:

  272. Ravi Kiran

    Here are my three haiku submissions

    finding its way out
    of the slum’s narrow bylanes
    song of a migrant

    still a nobody
    a lump of clay starts to spin
    on the potter’s wheel

    double amputee
    the red origami crane
    crafted by her hands

    In origami the color Red symbolises, passion and good furtune

  273. Kala Ramesh

    My three haiku.

    the chariot wheel
    in touching the earth moves on …
    my breath in the now

    galloping autumn
    I’m alive for a period
    of one breath alone

    parijat blossom
    father gathers them each day
    to offer his God

  274. Mallika Chari

    friends meet
    one after another
    we stretch our legs

    night sky
    I open the window to see
    the known silence

    old rock
    the fine lines
    on her abdomen

    • Mallika Chari

      I withdraw all the above three haiku. As i realized it is a 575 contest.
      I am submitting my
      Three 575 haiku

      me sitting alone….
      with the ruffling wind enters
      a rustle of dry leaves

      all branches chopped down
      now heard from a long distance
      the cuckoos sweet songs

      a quiet evening
      restlessly moving around
      the crow on tree top

      • Margaret Coats

        Thank you! These will be considered instead of the shorter ones.

  275. Bintou Kaba

    My three Haikus:
    Once I saw you
    I smiled
    With pure happiness

    Gold rays from the sun
    Run to the pool every day
    Barbeque with friends

    Cool wind through the trees
    Falling red, orange, and yellow
    Fall: favorite season

  276. Daipayan Nair

    My three haiku:

    grandpa’s wall picture …
    the marigold my grandma
    struggles hard to pick

    a big loudspeaker
    in every street and house lane …
    peace mantra of Om

    planning dad’s birthday …
    I collect the smashed pieces
    of my piggy bank

  277. Ramesh Anand

    Once in a blue moon
    Another February goes
    Without my birthday

    December rainstorm
    The prayer of muezzin
    Piercing through darkness

    An icy stillness
    The stories we would afraid
    To hear in darkness

  278. Tracy Davidson

    sakura petals
    poking through war-torn rubble
    life still finds a way

    when Mother Nature
    paints with filigrees of frost
    windscreens become art

    my son stops crying…
    the winter rainbow, a bridge,
    for his friend to cross

  279. Paul Buchheit

    The blue-eyed doll lies
    sweet and still in lacy pink,
    beside the skid marks.

    The old woman turns,
    as she’s done for many years,
    but sees no one there.

    Inside the steel pot
    left here many months before
    I find tiny bones.

  280. Mona Bedi

    morning stillness
    just the trembling of leaves
    outside my window

    precambrian rocks
    i talk to my son about
    the Big Bang

    warm summer evening—
    sound of children playing
    in the ghetto lanes

    • Mona Bedi

      Please disregard the above . Here is my final submission:

      morning solitude
      the trembling of aspen leaves
      outside my window

      precambrian mountain
      i talk to my son about
      the great explosion

      hot summer evening
      the sound of children playing
      in ghetto lanes

      • Margaret Coats

        Thanks, Mona. Your revision has been noticed.

  281. Susan Malter

    Friends matching mountains
    Your stocking feet in puddles
    A stone in my shoe

    Creaks from floor above
    Footsteps. Drawers shut. You call.
    Let’s stay here awhile.

    Blue birds blue flowers
    On blue branches in blue grass
    Soothing bedroom toile

  282. Gayle Rose

    winter’s crescent moon
    surrounded by brilliant stars
    north wind spins the earth

    shincha slowly steeps
    gathered beyond the yak fields
    dewdrops sparkling

    withered tea flowers
    beneath showering starlight
    cast shadows on stones

  283. Noga Shemer

    spider web garlands
    adorn the first passerby
    on this wooded trail

    dragonfly islands
    his small kneecaps bob above
    the cool rippling stream

    invisible loon
    gliding on a midnight lake
    bright stars on its back

  284. Abigail Kangas

    Thorns, like those of life
    Though they prick, they’re protection
    Overcome your thorns

  285. Robert Bugie

    Spring Rose in Winter
    Your reign untimely ending
    Fight on my Monarch!

    Scholar of Autumn
    The Archive is in full bloom
    Harvest the knowledge

    Birdie of the West
    Angelic voice of the sky
    Your Legend in Sand

  286. Tomy G

    the strong summer wind
    the two-tired bicycle–
    the sound of laughter

  287. Subir Ningthouja

    the blue moon rises
    amidst the rustling bamboos ….
    i lean on a void
    a murmuration—
    starlings form dance patterns to
    internal rhythms
    breezy hydrangeas …
    patches of the pale blue sky
    sway by a hill path

  288. K M H Shahriar

    Moon in the sky, bright.
    Lovely nature, touching heart,
    Clouds, blocking sight.

  289. K M H Shahriar

    Moon in the sky, bright,
    Lovely nature, touching heart.
    Clouds, blocking sight.

  290. Andy N

    Walk across the woods
    the path is covered in cracks.
    Downpour from last night


    Beautiful sunset
    on a warm summer evening.
    Hope it gets cooler.

  291. Suzanne Tyrpak

    determined jasmine
    sweetly creeping up fences
    while destroying them

    showing her colors,
    bold without apology,
    autumn maple tree

    on a rainy day
    mushrooms peek from underground
    raising umbrellas

  292. Rupa Anand

    early autumn mist—
    a snail’s silver trail glimmers
    on wet dewed green grass

    the koel’s summer song
    seeps through each of my senses
    —neither of us is

    sunniest day today—
    the lady bird looks upward
    pleading for passage

  293. Evie Lucas

    Knots tie across days
    Like old ghosts remembering
    Myself, refracted.

  294. Allison

    Roadrunner scratches
    the sun-bleached sand, crisscrossing
    deep coyote tracks

    Plastic pink pony
    sits in summer sand, swathed in
    hissing diamonds

    Monsoon swells heavy
    deep clouds full and ready, us
    mortals stuck below

  295. Fiona M

    Slurping ripe mangoes
    This is the gold of summer
    Sweet as fledgling years.

    Rain pours like silence
    Footprints gone in the torrent
    The earth is rinsed clean.

    A meteor falls
    The night sheds luminous tears
    And we wonder why.

  296. Susanna C

    White sails reflect clouds
    To dance the sea in slivers
    Above the whale’s eye

    Dancing in warm rain
    Tropical heat loosens limbs
    A crocodile smiles

    The song of the bees
    Sipping nectar in the heat
    Birds wait for the seeds

  297. Colin Merrill

    Soil, water, and air
    elements still cold, waiting
    to become new souls

    A rumble rises
    spring mountains shed white blankets
    and powder settles

    Twittering echoes and
    enters the mouth of a cave
    sleeping bear awakens

  298. Susmita Ramani

    Cup the small spider
    Rehome her in flower bed
    while cats look askance

    On our womens’ hike
    we linger at each flower
    seeing there ourselves

    Suffuse coral light
    spreads to kiss horizon line
    Waves eat fireball

  299. Teri Jo Rask

    Red no longer flows,
    Goodbye is sometimes easy.
    A breath in, then out.

    Wild exquisite night!
    A blanket sky shimmering
    Joy envelops me

    Despite my efforts
    Omicron got me real bad
    Wear a mask, be cool.

    Moved by moderator from ‘What makes a good Haiku’

  300. Teri Jo Rask

    Wild exquisite night
    A blanket sky shimmering
    Peace envelops me

    Red no longer flows,
    Goodbye is sometimes easy.
    A Breath in, then out.

    Despite my efforts,
    Omicron got me real bad
    Wear a mask, be cool.

  301. Bud Sturguess

    Stale hell on my breath
    I said don’t bother dreaming –
    In dust, I repent.

  302. Ren Koppel Torres

    It’s still pozole rojo but

    You better bypass
    that tocino, ‘cause it’s our
    receta Kosher.

    • Ren Koppel Torres

      Note: “It’s still pozole rojo but” is the title of the haiku. Pozole rojo is a Mexican stew typically made with pork. In Spanish, “tocino” means bacon, and “receta” means recipe. For context, I’m a Mexican Jew. Thank you!

  303. K.F.

    Honey. Sugar. Lips.
    The Sweetest taste. Touch. Feeling.
    Flowing in your mouth.

    Nine..Five..I love you.
    Nine..Seven..And Loving you
    Today, its still you.

  304. Neena Singh

    Here are my haiku submissions:

    serrated pink conch…
    the rising waves of the sea
    resound in my ear


    midsummer shower
    spills in the temple courtyard
    plumeria scent


    sun-soaked paddy field
    the old farmer shades his eyes
    with a calloused hand

  305. Sheila Barksdale

    teeter-totter joy
    two winter scarves are trailing,
    tracing rainbow’s arc

    barefoot on the lawn
    avoiding the snag and squelch
    of fallen medlars

    dusty bare pasture
    an old racehorse lifts his head:
    the white waterfall

  306. Laura Waldorff

    Here are my haiku submissions:

    Woven bracelet, words
    Of old becoming, new birth
    Yes, I am undone

    Twins’ twinned eyes, laughter
    Here the call of summer bird
    Freckles and honey

    My mother and tea
    Bright mint leaves on hot water
    I drink my childhood

    Thank you for your consideration.

  307. Anna Eskenazi Bush

    Pretzel Haiku

    I caught a pretzel
    With my clean, bare feet today
    Shall I eat it now?


    Laundered crisp bed sheets
    Dirty unwashed unsocked feet
    Soil a good night

    Or for those who pronounce soil with one syllable:

    Soil a good night’s sleep

    • Anna E Bush

      The Creek

      the creek water does
      not question – it just flows, goes
      it knows all is well

  308. Oluwasegun Oluseyi Adesina

    sudden August rain . . .
    a boy hastens his footsteps
    towards the puppy

    rumbling and thunder —
    the sound of church bell after
    the covid lockdown

    blossoms of the spring . . .
    two high school children fighting
    for the window seat

    • Oluwasegun Oluseyi Adesina

      sudden August rain . . .
      a boy hastens his footsteps
      towards the puppy

      rumbling and thunder —
      the sound of church bell after
      the covid lockdown

      blossoms of the spring . . .
      two high school students fighting
      for the window seat

  309. Janis B

    A pike catching fish
    Aiming to have a great meal
    To be caught by me

    A bird lands beside
    I feel it has to like me
    But seeds are nicer

    I leave jars in woods
    Walk further away proudly
    Trip over bottles

  310. Coleen Kenny

    Jellyfish Moon–clouds
    trail like tentacles trapping
    stars for her supper

    Full moon spies between
    my blinds. A voyeur deprived
    of earthly delights

    Examining trees–
    gnarled branches hold stories
    like my weathered heart

  311. Suzanne S. Austin-Hill


    (Ekphrastic) Haiku
    FUJIWARA no Yasumasa Playing the Flute by Moonlight
    Yoshitoshi (1839-1892)

    amidst the tall grass
    notes take flight to hunter’s moon
    beguile the wicked


    single barren branch
    against winter frozen tears
    burns cardinal’s heat


    decades of advice
    incomprehensible spring
    now echo their worth

    Suzanne S. Austin-Hill

  312. norma laughter

    Freeing a caged bird
    the rescuer gains merit
    Destroy the cages!

    While grain may sustain
    it’s the chaff that seals your fate
    Winnow carefully!

  313. Ginger Garrett

    steam rises off heads
    chill morning meditation
    monkeys in hot springs

    daughter wife mother
    a life of hibernation
    from being herself

    willow tree branches
    husband’s hands around my hips
    swaying with the breeze

  314. Darah Schillinger

    coming home to you
    is laying in a patch of
    sunlight that can’t fade

  315. Darah Schillinger

    geese are overhead
    angry, cacophony honks
    mad the sun still shines

  316. Jennifer Elise Wang

    Climbing the cliff’s edge,
    I pause to look at the stars,
    Unafraid to fall.

    Girl walking at night,
    You ask if she’s alright—
    Fox eyes, blood-stained grin.

    Dark descends sooner,
    Bringing a chill with the wind—
    Pumpkin spice returns.

    • E. Owen

      Hi, Jennifer Elise Wang,
      I read your third haiku several times, until the lines conceptualized, and I could imagine shorter days in proper season and almost smell the nutmeg and ginger in the air. Wonderful traditional haiku with proper theme and structure consistent with the brief. Thank you.

  317. Christopher Calvin

    the milky way course
    endless stars drift in and out
    the impermanence

    breeze through window
    wind chime twinkle fills the air
    dream of (b)right summer

    flutter…kite flutters
    little kids freely follow
    where butterfly flits

  318. A.J. Anwar

    midsummer morning–
    visiting sparrows play hops
    on my porch tiles

    new life past the drought
    withered tree among the greens
    declines second chance

    after the rainstorm
    the rapid rushes downstream
    to gather itself

    • A.J. Anwar

      Kindly consider the revised versions below as my entry poems:

      midsummer morning–
      visiting sparrows play hops
      on my checkered porch

      new life past the drought
      withered tree among the greens
      declines second chance

      after the rainstorm
      the river rushes downstream
      to cleanse herself off

      Thank you.

  319. Alan Millichip

    Brought down by the wind
    Destroying the raven’s nest
    Shelter for the mouse

    Cooling the turbine
    A backward flowing river
    Energy wasted

    The barriers failed
    A full moon and a spring tide
    The flood plain reformed

  320. Murad Ibrahimov

    Cracking of a stick;
    One by one, worried heads turn —
    A mass exodus.

    Drowsily awake,
    wiped the foggy window, and
    from end to end — white.

    A strong gush of blood;
    People come together with
    a strong gush of joy.

  321. Cheryl Licata

    Cheryl Licata
    August 11, 2022

    seeds sprout grow droop fall
    decayed orphans not chosen
    bees sip apple juice

    marshmallow fluff clouds
    icy blue popsicle sky
    wings lick confection

    rapacious seagull
    soaring scavenger seeks crumbs
    spies youngster’s sandwich

      • Cheryl Licata

        You are too much, Suzanne!!! You know, I love all your poems…

      • Suzanne Austin-Hill

        Yes, I can be a bit much. But, thanks for hangin’ out with me all these years!

  322. Seth Koppel

    Strolled through Central Park,
    Stepped on pigeon eyeball—yikes—
    Now haunted by grapes.

  323. RJ Murray

    Gentle water flows
    Sunlight illuminating
    Rocks rounded by time

    Sunlight elucidates
    Casting light upon new life
    An explosion of colours

    Light across the sky
    The weight of thunderous air
    A storm approaches

  324. Kelly Shaw

    reflecting two worlds
    before the wind and after
    dandelion seeds

    the goldfish glowing
    in a bowl that quietly
    annihilates it

    looking at the moon
    not sure where to put my hands
    so they just dangle

  325. Benjamin Bläsi

    one hundred starlings
    silhouette the falling night:
    last songs of summer

    lost in perfumed air:
    a small skipper is crossing
    the wildflower sea

    leaden calls of gulls
    drifting through the morning port
    the shimmer of snow

  326. Linda L Maxwell

    Lipstick red Poppies
    Flirt with bachelor’s Buttons
    Weary of creepers.

    Young swimmers witness
    Gray heads bobbing to oldies–
    And stay in their lane.

    I nod and agree
    When he says he’s through with me
    Let it be. I’m free!

  327. Carrie R. Hinton

    Winter #1

    Amber light dances
    Leaving shadows in its wake
    White ash falls like snow

    Winter #2

    Branches reach to blue
    Bare skin trembles from the cold
    You pull me closer

    Winter # 3

    Coffee in my cup
    My sundried lips part for it
    Sugar bites my teeth

  328. Orlando Walker

    A poem so short
    One of the finest it is
    Yet it qualifies

    Simplified writing
    Of three lines a poem told
    Five, seven, five pattern

    Have a guess my friend
    What could it be: Sonnet, Ode?
    ‘Haiku?’ Right answer

  329. Julianus Julius

    Frothing and frothing
    Would have stopped it if could—
    I cry, she froths the more.

    Night cold’s hell for her;
    Winter nights all the more hell:
    She sneezes to tears.

  330. Stuti

    A tribute to my favourite season –

    Vibrant brolly tops
    paint the bazaar’s bustling streets
    veiled by charcoal skies

    Little paper boats
    drift in water logged bylanes;
    Chai and charcha thrive

    A congregation
    Of lusty frogs is singing;
    Raucous monsoon choir

      • Margaret Coats

        I and many others pronounce long /i/ words such as “choir” and “fire” as one syllable. Thus the syllable count in “raucous monsoon choir” is five. But I am aware that others pronounce these words with two syllables. In this contest, where we have variants of English from all over the world, I do my best to accept regional pronounciations, even if they are not my own. Thanks for letting me make my policy known!

      • Stuti

        Thank you for sharing your feedback Suzanne. I myself tend to break it into 2 syllables, but from reading a lot here, I’ve come to understand that more people read it as a single syllable than as 2. Margaret has answered it wonderfully 🙂

      • Suzanne S. Austin-Hill

        Takes all kinds (and pronunciations) to make the world go ‘round.

      • Stuti

        Thank you so much for clarifying Margaret – both the syllable count and the policy. That is really kind of you 🙂

  331. jeer

    lost innocence
    intimacy violated
    a life destroyed

    heart on fire
    love flows elusivily
    fingers that caress

    perfume in the park
    the scent of limeblossoms
    i get lost in you


  332. Patricia Furstenberg

    russet leaves alight-
    pennies rustle in delight
    Autumn’s butterscotch

    barbed balls drop, roll, peep
    chestnuts, autumn’s chocolates
    nutty, it struck me

    golden philamot
    calloused leafs a bass choir
    grey nightingale t(h)rills

    • Suzanne S. Austin-Hill

      Second Haiku – second line has 6 syllables. We don’t typically say choc-o-lates.

    • Patricia Furstenberg

      Thank you, Suzanne. I hear it now 🙂
      Thus, my second haiku is:

      barbed balls drop, roll, peep
      chestnuts, autumn’s chocolate bites
      nutty, it struck me.

  333. Marcia Burton

    sparrow in her palm
    the impossible angle
    of its perfect head

    a misty hillside
    tea leaves ready for picking
    the scent of bright green

    a little tug boat
    emerging from the grey mist
    tows spring behind it

  334. michael lowenberg

    Yes, there is a dove
    sitting in a tall oak tree.
    I hear a high coo.

    You ask, “Who would name
    a groundhog Woodchuck Norris?
    Well, would Chuck Norris?”

    Diddly, zilch, nada,
    naught, nil, goose egg, zip, nix, aught…
    Nothing comes to mind.

    • Barbara L Silberg

      Technically, these are senryu. Good senryu, but not classical haiku

      • Margaret Coats

        Thanks for your comment, Eric. It will help me explain what I accept as haiku a little further. Let me assure everyone reading this that I appreciate your contributions to the study and writing of haiku. I may contradict some of your expressions, but that does not diminish my regard.

        I responded to Barbara L Silberg, because she told Michael Lowenberg that his entries in this haiku contest were good senryu rather than classical haiku. This made it necessary for me to say more precisely what I accept as haiku in this contest, lest Michael or anyone else presume by my silence that entries like Michael’s do not meet the requirements. Notice that I am NOT judging Michael’s poems by what I say here! I do not judge entries while the contest is going on. Rather, I clarify my idea of what a haiku is.

        Beyond the 5-7-5 form, haiku must have a seasonal reference (kigo) and allude to nature. Haiku can use language artistry of any kind that fits the form, so as to achieve its special effect.

        My view comes from reading thousands of haiku. I will once again state that there is no sharp distinction between haiku and senryu. Eric, you say that the distinction is thematic, but I say no themes are off limits to haiku. It is not the topic or the mode of discourse that makes a senryu. It is the lack of kigo and nature. There are plenty of witty, satirical, and storytelling haiku. Do you know the one about the icicle hanging from Buddha’s nose? Excellent haiku with a sardonic tone critics would like to reserve for senryu! But it meets every requirement for haiku, and shows how much freedom of expression haiku have. Never think the requirements of poetic form diminish freedom of speech!

        I’ll give another splendid haiku to demonstrate. This was written by 18th century Buddhist nun Chiyo-ni, and translated by me.

        Look at clear water.
        Considering front and back,
        it has neither one.

        “Clear water” is a summer kigo, and water itself is an element of nature. But this isn’t a description of nature, it’s a philosophical poem about non-duality–or as one interpreter says, “the coemergence of all phenomena as one.” There’s no landscape and no time of day. For readers who must have a nature sketch as haiku, or witty cynicism about human frailty as senryu, it is neither one. Non-duality, as the poet said.

        We have many haiku in varied styles in this contest, and I’m glad you’ve enjoyed them, Eric, so much as to make comments on several. That’s something I as contest judge cannot do, and I’m sure the poets appreciate your attention.

    • Margaret Coats

      Thanks, Barbara, for bringing up the distinction. There is, however, no sharp dividing line between haiku and senryu, even among the works of the Japanese masters. For this contest, I accept as haiku any poem in haiku form with reference to a season and alluding to nature in some way. Seasonal reference is often achieved by simply naming an animal or plant associated with a season. Language artistry such as Michael Lowenberg’s puns can contribute to many different kinds of poetry, including both haiku and senryu.

      • E. Owen

        Hi, Margaret; it’s Eric. I enjoyed your response to Barbara concerning “Lowenberg’s puns;” however, if I may, I find that while Lowenberg’s puns fit easily into either form category (haiku or senryu), Lowenberg blurs the “dividing line” with thematic hybrids, touching on nature and cynicism in the senryu form, where reference to a season is not required. The dividing line even among Japanese Masters, has always been thematic rules requiring season and time of day for haiku, whereas senryu was allowed more freedom of expression in a witty, tavern, storytelling sort of way to poke fun at human frailty. I agree, however, both forms are haiku structurally and syllabically, and both are otherwise distinct by restrictions required in haiku versus their absence in senryu. I applaud your work and caring critique and will continue reading the talented contributions to the competition. I hope this helps.
        E. Owen

      • Margaret Coats

        Eric, my reply to you somehow went higher up in this thread than I expected. Please take a look immediately below Barbara Silberg’s comment.

      • Adekeye Oluwasegun Lukman

        Please i need help, i can’t find the comment section. Here is my poem, and hope it’s considered

        Chilling with the cold
        Unquestionable downpour
        Beating… blabbing rain.

        A duel with my chi…
        Parading the market square
        It’s masquerade festival.

        The eagle’ talon
        Piecing on the Y image
        Giant of Africa.

      • Margaret Coats

        Yes, Adekeye Oluwasegun Lukman, it is difficult even for me sometimes to navigate this large number of poems. I am very glad to see your haiku, and they are officially entered. Thank you!

  335. Donald Joseph Lee

    Entry 1 –

    Snow blankets the day
    Creatures seek comfort and warmth
    Waiting for the sun

    Entry 2 –

    Thunder beats the sky
    Lightning strikes the ground, tremble
    We all run away

    Entry 3 –

    Floods break through the land
    Offering devastation
    Everything is wet

  336. Esther Paddon

    Covid’s come to stay
    Man, unable to curb its power
    Crazy, odd cosmos.

    Time alters everything
    Slow-moving, rippling water
    Transcends humanity.

    Age is but a stage
    Performance glistens briefly
    Leaving empty void.

  337. Esther Paddon

    Time alters everything
    Slow-moving, rippling water
    Transcends humanity.

    Age is but a stage
    Performance glistens briefly
    Leaving empty void.

  338. Maria Cezza

    an old abandoned chapel ‒
    an hot offering of light
    lies among the ruins

  339. Maria Cezza

    wedding ceremony
    the snow that assimilates
    the meadow and the path

  340. Maria Cezza

    it is so strictly short
    the life of the butterfly ‒
    intensity of a farewell

    • Adekeye Oluwasegun Lukman

      Please i need help, i can’t find the comment section. Here is my poem, and hope it’s considered

      Chilling with the cold
      Unquestionable downpour
      Beating… blabbing rain.

      A duel with my chi…
      Parading the market square
      It’s masquerade festival.

      The eagle’ talon
      Piecing on the Y image
      Giant of Africa.

  341. Maria Cezza

    Excuse me:

    it is so strictly short
    the life of the butterfly ‒
    intensity of farewell

    • Maria Cezza

      Please consider this as the third haiku. Apologies, thank you very much

      • Maria Cezza

        it is so strictly short
        the life of the butterfly ‒
        intensity of farewell

  342. Stefanie Bucifal

    never before and
    never again – this moment
    is a solitaire

  343. Anthony Watts

    A wild rose, a hawthorn tree
    Like Rodin’s lovers

    Ice covers the pond
    I stamp a hole with my heel
    Now the birds can drink

    A majestic wind
    Sweeps down the wide avenue
    The trees bow and scrape

  344. Sue McMahon

    Indigo eyes still
    Open in the deep valley
    Waiting for true love

    dark sunrises start
    the day off cold and dreary
    sunsets come too soon

    Winds rip the gray clouds
    Blowing mist collides with rocks
    Freedom overcomes

  345. Gugulami Kandawasvika

    Sodden rolling clouds
    give birth to silvery veins
    lightning strikes again

    Miniscule shelled troops
    ingested by the ocean-
    Genesis of life

    Blistering syrup
    oozes from the Earth’s belly,
    what an eruption!

  346. Sara Kate


    Sharp spearmint sprouts up
    Crisp as cooling, early rains
    Smiling senses shine


    Luscious lemon balm
    Sends sweet scent, refreshing splash
    Summer’s citrus kiss


    Roasted rosemary
    November campfire embers
    Earthy warmth within

  347. Stephanie Schrecengost

    Books recall the way
    Of trees—they sigh and whisper
    Of skeleton leaves

    Books speak. Pages shift
    And sigh, like skeleton leaves
    Recalling wind’s kiss.

    Shelved books feel echoes
    Of rain, of wind, of sun. They
    Dream in emerald.

    I often wish that
    Midnight’s sand could sweep away
    Echoes of your kiss

      • Adekeye Oluwasegun Lukman

        Chilling with the cold
        Unquestionable downpour
        Beating… blabbing rain.

        A duel with my chi…
        Parading the market square
        It’s masquerade festival.

        The eagle’ talon
        Piecing on the Y image
        Giant of Africa.

  348. Toshiji Kawagoe

    The fish in the pond
    breaks the ice at Zuikoji
    whale songs in the breeze

    • Toshiji Kawagoe

      “The fish in the pond breaks the ice” (魚氷に上る)is a seasonal word in spring.
      A bridge at Zuikoji temple (雪鯨橋) in Osaka, which is made of whale bones, was constructed in the 18th century for praying for a good catch and as a memorial service for the sacrificed whales.
      (Please note that whale fishing was one of major sources of livelihood at the poor fishing village at that time.)

      Japanese version:

  349. Adela Sanchez

    That’s life don’t complain
    On those pants a little stain
    Because they were free.

    Water is for life
    If only I will drink it
    Then I might survive.

    Waiting for you here
    While you decide to answer
    And you never come.

    • Adela Sanchez

      I’m new to this and my first try to haiku poems. I didn’t know they had to do with nature. Can I try again and send 3 more and disregard the originals?

      • Margaret Coats

        Yes, you may certainly do that. For help on the requirements, there are several places to click in the contest announcement above, especially the WHAT section. I believe the contest closes tomorrow night at midnight New York time. This area for posting poems will not work after that! Also notice that the results of the contest will appear on August 30. Good luck!

  350. Valerie Rosenfeld

    with nowhere to be
    the butterfly stops to sip
    sunshine from the trees

    I bring my chatter
    to the crickets in the night
    and become quiet

    lake holds the shadow
    sky holds the echo—the loon
    is already gone

  351. Sebastian Chrobak

    piano concert
    hope hidden in every vibe
    of the spider’s web

    a violent wind
    petals of cherry blossoms
    among the ashes

  352. Keith A. Simmonds

    Symphony of light
    throbbing on a waterfall…
    aroma of dawn

    A caterpillar
    hanging from a broken twig…
    soon the miracle

    Starry-eyed lovers
    kissing under the full moon:
    scent of cherry blooms

  353. Rajandeep Garg

    deep in the summer
    two butterflies sharing a
    small piece of shadow

    the yesterday’s rain
    held still in the palms of leaves
    my tears left uncried

    burning laces of
    the sun blazed clouds, engulf me
    a blood laden shroud

  354. Annette

    all birds migrated
    he remains empty handed
    his fingers frozen

    midsummer party
    air full of lavender scent
    and sweating dancers

    such a sunny day
    there’s not a cloud on the sky –
    droughts everywhere


    My offerings:
    now i understand
    what she meant by the blue moon
    … neelakurunji

    autumn swings in me
    still can’t find the reason why
    i cry in silence

    first colouring book …
    the sun rises with four
    thousand sunflowers

  356. alks

    a cup has a crack
    abrading lips, and nectar
    underneath its thorn

    As the mist rumbles
    A fallen snake sheds lightning
    Clearing turbulence

    Lustrum-long winters
    Of my inner hemispheres
    Await midnight suns

  357. jd

    Brown stain on green grass
    explodes to burst of sparrows
    feathers in my chest.

    Verdant leaves above
    a torrent of squawks and sweeps
    the cat walks quietly

    Unbroken blue sky
    breeze-brushed sun over all
    God alone in charge

  358. Chen-ou Liu

    first homecoming trip
    the headlights break the darkness
    not tangled feelings

    an unmoored sailboat
    one-step-forwards, two-steps-back
    of our love affair

    • Chen-ou Liu


      first homecoming trip
      my headlights break the darkness
      not tangled feelings

  359. Beatrice

    Cold evening,
    A donkey bray’s,
    While taking shelter with men.

    A blazening fire,
    A cat meows;
    In the freezing of the night.

    A weathered soul,
    Treading a desolate moor;
    Smell of Death!

  360. Ezeifedi chibueze

    Rains rinse off the night
    from skies blurred into secrets
    that still smell of time

    The bird sits on songs
    now woven from the dark light
    of rumbling thunder.

    The night condenses
    Into black brown coffee drops.
    They stain the morning.

  361. Ezeifedi chibueze

    Rain rinses the night
    off skies blurred into secrets
    that still smell of time

    The birds sit on songs
    now woven from the dark light
    of rumbling thunder

    The night condenses
    into black brown coffee drops.
    They stain the morning

  362. Jeffrey Ferrara

    unseen for ages
    hunger stones reappearing
    on the waterway

    glory in the fall
    a sagging barn in Vermont
    draped in fresh colors

  363. Diane Jackman

    drought summer leaves droop
    thirsting for absent rainfall
    autumn comes early

    pheasant taps on glass
    dish of water placed outside
    message understood

  364. Elizabeth O'Connor

    The maternal wind
    that carries the sweet scents of
    pollen and petals

    In the bitter air,
    Snowflakes dance delicately
    and land perfectly

    Golden leaves fall down
    into a great pile, ready
    for children to jump

  365. Shelli Jankowski-Smith

    this long July day
    lingering over my wine
    in backloaded light

    a sudden rainfall
    by open cottage windows
    towels tossed on the floors

    Mom’s dying garden
    the sharp fingers of thistles
    take it all at last

  366. Patricia Ann Bowen

    Great horned owl and I
    Share the hours before morning,
    Hunters joined in awe.

    My child grasps a bud,
    Full and fragile as her own
    Youthful scent and hue.

    The cat is outside,
    Howling for some love and fun.
    Take her. She’s ready.

  367. Ash Evan Lippert

    to my cousins’ house
    past wilting geraniums
    the slap of sandals

    5 PM nightfall
    my wool hat dripping snowmelt
    into red curry

    held by its ribbons —
    breezing past plum blossoms with
    my box of eclairs

  368. Lorraine A Padden

    the rippling cursive
    notating a bluer sky
    in migrating geese

    a single blossom floating
    in my jasmine tea

    slipping through the mist
    a droplet from her paddle
    the canoe at dawn

  369. Phoebe B

    Blankets of moss draped
    lavish furnishings help to
    welcome insects home

    The tide tells the moon
    the dreamcatcher in the sky
    to bring on the dawn

    Fragments of pale light
    cherryblossoms giggle and blush
    dancing from the trees

  370. Adela

    Hi praying mantis
    So pretty and green you are
    Soon you will turn brown .

    Cloudy days and nights
    How long til you give us rain?
    We need it right now.

    Shades of blue and white
    The sky is turning dark now
    Thank you for the rain.

  371. Sarah G

    Moonless winter night
    Telescope set up just right
    Behold: ancient light!

    Shadows growing tall
    Grass grows slowly, if at all
    Welcome back, dear Fall.

    A warming planet
    A couple falling in love
    Let’s enjoy the end.

    • E. Owen

      Hi, Sarah. It’s Eric. Not sure if you were submitting to brief that accepts traditional haiku in senryu form. But, If I may indulge you for a moment, while the first two pieces are enjoyable to read, they are considered haiku-syllabic tercet, and in that description if a brief calls for it, a form of American haiku with the focal elements on syllable and line structure. Traditional haiku, however, does not allow for rhyme. I hope this feedback will help. I look forward to reading more from you. Keep writing, and good luck.


      E. Owen

    • Margaret Coats

      Sarah may have read my essay “What Makes A Good Haiku?” In it I offer several examples of good English-language haiku that use rhyme, meter, and alliteration. A poet may use these and other literary devices in haiku of traditional form (3 lines of 5, 7, and 5 syllables, including reference to a season of nature). Rhyme is NOT forbidden, and does occasionally occur in Japanese haiku. But this competition asks for traditional-form haiku in English, and therefore the artistic potential of the English language and English poetic traditions such as rhyme are most welcome, though not required.

  372. Maria Cezza

    I apologize if I re-enter my three haiku, but I was afraid I was not clear, and I had not received a confirmation response. Thank you very much, and good luck

    an old abandoned chapel ‒
    an hot offering of light
    lies among the ruins

    wedding ceremony
    the snow that assimilates
    the meadow and the path

    it is so strictly short
    the life of the butterfly ‒
    intensity of farewell

    • Margaret Coats

      Thank you, Maria. This is your confirmation that the above three are your entries.

  373. Aoish

    Holy night
    telling small lie
    to my kids

    Long long ago
    Grandma read the book
    that I read

    Ammusement park
    Daddy keeps balloons
    in the way

  374. madeleine kavanagh

    Trees sway in warm breeze
    Soft chirrups burst through sunbeams
    Blue birds on a branch

    Jasmine morning scents
    A Cloud of dragonflies float
    Dog days of August

    Mist wraps her winter
    around velvet hills. Cows low
    by evergreen trees

  375. Jerome Berglund

    crops at death’s doorstep
    when the sheets of grain rain come — 
    giving rescue breaths

    creaky oak blocks clouds…
    presenting a new target
    for the magpies

    some if these hostas
    will flower grandly you know…
    or do you not know?

  376. Leah Fischer

    1. Rust

    Rust spots dust the leaves
    So green they seemed, now dying
    Fuzzy seeds fly. Why.

    2. Splash!

    Bare feet pound lush grass
    While hairy green mosaics
    top a still lake ’til…

  377. Don Baird

    meandering moon . . .

    please tell how you met the star
    in a rolling wave

    beyond the red swing —
    an old weeping maple tree
    darkens the shadows

    fading mountain goat . . .
    why does the rolling fog bank

    cover your footprints?

  378. Animesh Satapathy

    Tear drops down to earth
    Middle of night, in forest
    Sees the moon through trees

    Ranges of Mountains
    Colour fades, green to white
    Hits the horizon

    Hears soothing flute tune
    In the midnight dark forest
    Rushes to find none

  379. Adekeye Oluwasegun Lukman

    Chilling with the cold
    Unquestionable downpour
    Beating… blabbing rain.

    A duel with my chi…
    Parading the market square
    It’s masquerade festival.

    The eagle’ talon
    Piecing on the Y image
    Giant of Africa.

  380. Tunisia Nelson

    The listless dancer
    Pirouettes to the tombstone
    For a final rest

    Surrounded but alone
    There is never a good time
    For the sun to set

    Five hallelujahs
    Th repentance I needed
    For my future sins

  381. Jack Wood

    Heron’s ice thin step
    Oil slick reflection ripples
    Sodden feathers sink

  382. Jay Castello

    sickle moon growing
    over rows of summer wheat
    soon for the harvest

    fresh spring flowers left
    at ancient raised stone circle
    old celebration

  383. jim Berlino

    Sturgeon moon hangs low
    Fossil fish are not splashing
    A silent red glow

  384. Lynda Zwinger

    full moon hangs around
    for morning coffee—fading
    out as I fade in

  385. Susan Schwartz Twiggs

    Dark clouds portend rain
    S-shaped snake speeds toward shore
    Spots our shadow, dives.

    Standing mounds of white
    Deck posts sport bishop’s mitre
    Squirrels await cracked corn.

    Flashing lights caution.
    Northwoods diner homeward bound
    Yield for loping bear.

  386. Angel Strong


    I have wanderlust,
    Miss soaring o’er waves and dust,
    Heart now filled with rust.

  387. Angel Strong

    From Al Gore

    Temperatures rose,
    All our leaders? Indisposed.
    Extinction: It looms.

  388. Ana Luna

    ‘Tis a winter night.
    You take your last frigid breath.
    I shall join you soon.

    The winter breeze blows.
    The snow flurries flurry down.
    Snow kisses your nose.

    Thrust in a new world,
    Look throughout the autumn night.
    You are all alone.

  389. Angel Strong

    Snowfall Memory

    Withered fields flicker,
    In time with the bonfire’s flare,
    Wind melts away warmth.

  390. Angel Strong

    Withered fields flicker,
    In time with the bonfire’s flare,
    Wind melts away warmth.

    • Angel

      Apologizes, I wasn’t sure if this had submitted, plus I wanted to fix the formatting.

    • Angel

      Apologies, I wasn’t sure if this had submitted, plus I wanted to fix the formatting.

      • Margaret Coats

        Angel, you may have had difficulties because other poets were submitting at the same time. I am going to leave your excess remarks here because I don’t want to risk deleting any poems. Thanks for your contributions!

  391. Ekta Adhikari

    Doomed; being awwed and “loved”,
    An illusion- belonging to family “behoved”,
    Enslaving creatures- pleasure to fund.

  392. Luna

    Doomed; being awwed and “loved”,
    An illusion- belonging to family “behoved”,
    Enslaving creatures- pleasure to fund.

  393. Ekta

    To heroes- flawed by dimes,
    Ignored crimes, to build lasting successful regimes,
    Cruel wars- fueling corrupt grimes.

  394. Kai Tumaneng

    Genesis Unwound

    Colors tucked inward,
    withdrawn. Russet clay to dust,
    earth shaped into urn.

  395. Kai Tumaneng

    the only enduring state
    to this graceless life.

  396. Christina Garofalo Bonifacio

    Come wander the dark
    Won’t you stay ‘til sun, my spring
    Promise never dies.

    A string of tealights
    on a seascape, as each wave
    rolls safely to shore.

    To seek salvation
    is to harvest the desert.
    Dry earth cannot grow.

  397. Bentley Brock

    July sun steals sweat
    As the pine casket lowers—
    Cicadas sing on.

    Warm nights ring out,
    Insects calling to themselves
    Incessant chorus.

    Secrets long buried
    Beneath the rushing river
    Now breathe summer air

    • Coleen P Kenny

      I’m not a judge but I love all three. Especially the first. Funeral on a 90 degree day last week; you captured it.

  398. Jennifer Boulette

    What lies beneath

    Above the water
    Stillness, below feet frantic
    Or maybe at peace


    Grief, in a nutshell
    Consumes my insides and outs
    Pervasive shading


    Hi, could you watch me
    String seventeen syllables
    In gloried measure?

  399. Jane Cartier

    the sky is yellow
    it morphs into purple/blue
    now late summer dusk

  400. Jane Cartier

    drip, drip, drip the water
    pools in the dirt, not the grass
    just wait for the sun

  401. Jane Cartier

    not one green leaf left
    the reds and yellows turn brown
    the tree is naked

  402. Mandy

    A sudden spring wind
    exhales pink cherry blossoms
    I look up and smile.


    The grey, pewter sky
    reveals present location
    Southeast Alaska

  403. d. murray

    hiding in the grass
    cricket i hear you chirping
    let me hide with you

  404. Brigit Truex

    Tiny yellow gears
    scattered on summer lawns
    raise and lower sun.

    Out-of-season snow.
    Flame-red tulips sizzle, hiss.
    Ashes cover my path.

    Some scribe a poem
    in the key of wind, of sand.
    Some, no font at all.

  405. Sakari Happonen

    feathery green leaves
    seasonal vegetables
    rabbit’s midnight snack

    an ant approaches
    droplet hanging on a cane
    bends it just enough

    behind the sand road
    field ablaze with wildflowers
    lovely with bare feet

  406. Stuart Jay Silverman

    a patch of clover
    stars deepen the green where two
    elderly trees nod

    the jungle floor yawns
    wakes to drizzles a heated
    cloud shakes from its hair

    a bucket of sap
    lighted by the harvest moon
    a touch heavier

  407. Oluwafemi Makanjuola.

    A cold blue waterloo
    Cry me a river of blood
    From wailing waters.

  408. Ally

    The sun stuns us still
    Bird beaks agape silent scream
    Living, just about

    Tilapia gasp
    The skin of the river breaks
    They have left their nests

    Air dense with water
    Begging for the storm to break
    Baking pavements wait

  409. john calvert

    thAree of my haiku for your competition. Apologies for being so “last minute”…

    Soft unseen sound
    Green August apples fall to
    Squirrels tiny hands

    Drink up the blue sky
    I clear the spoils of evening
    From last nights table

    Watching her drift by
    In changing summer colours
    Blossoming laughter

    John Calvert 2022

  410. Florin C. Ciobica

    departing summer…
    a refugee girl changes
    the clothes of her doll
    lilacs in full bloom…
    the silence before the storm
    changing its color
    cherry trees in bloom…
    my grandma puts on again
    her old wedding dress

  411. Liz EV Bistrianu

    Dust of sheer hotness,
    Bitter the trace you left in:
    Could have been my dream

  412. Tim Bigham

    hot red sun breathes fire
    as cold blue salamander
    breathes water and sky

  413. Sharon O

    When you stare into
    the abyss, what do you see?
    Now look more closely.

    All that is alive
    will be dead, a fact of life.
    None is immortal.

    My heart is burning
    to ash, to be flown by the
    wind to the ocean.

  414. Sam Milanese

    I sing to the sun
    Summer breeze bends my body—
    Am I scarecrow or flower?

  415. Nona Ward

    “the thrill of de-feet
    Doctor Scholl is hero mine
    to walk without ouch!”
    “good intentions train
    derailed by as-soon-as
    tomorrow new start”
    “haiku you demand
    I might need to hai your ku
    syllables scare me!”

  416. Urszula Marciniak

    a hot summer night
    only a slice of the moon
    for my refreshment

    the sun almost down
    only goldenrod flowers
    between you and me

    loud shots in the fall
    the stork flies over Ukraine
    on a different route

  417. Jacob

    Chin-up chirps eat, hot
    wind is like worms; down the warmth
    mother couldn’t feed.

    Leaves fall on rooftops—
    tap-dance’s eat sounds; hear death
    hush silence too loud.

    Bats hang from dead pines—
    wood mirrors the sun until
    eyes replace candles.

  418. Barbara Vaz

    Life has no meaning
    We are born, we live, we die
    We are forgotten

  419. Sam Milanese

    The smell of fresh grass
    Mass murder, beheading blades
    Drown the screams with “beauty”

  420. Barbara Vaz

    Knock, the door opens
    Ask, you surely will receive
    Faith is all you need

  421. Lawrence Mark Lesser


    The Hebrew word chai:
    multiples for charity
    changing the decree

    Hanukiah Haiku

    Eight same-height candles
    lit by one that’s out of line:

    Passover Hangover

    when the fourth cup
    made Bubbe fail
    the matzobriety test

  422. Sam Milanese

    Words strike like bullets
    Springtime flower, your dreams fly
    But your body fails

  423. Diamante Maldonado

    On Resting:

    There are butterflies,
    sipping sugar water drops,
    in spring’s balmy breeze.

  424. Eavonka Ettinger

    even the gull knows
    flying against the wind is
    not how to get home

    puppy is planting
    bones in the autumn garden
    weary worms rejoice

  425. Sherri Armel Cox

    Texas Home

    Cool evening lone star
    Shivers in an endless sky
    Guiding the way home

  426. Alisha Chobe

    Sunshine and dew mixed
    with the honey of a love—
    tastes sweet like your skin.

    Beaut in brevity,
    like the soft words breathed while I
    lay in your warm arms.

  427. Sherri Armel Cox

    Secret moon so shy
    Gentle crescent soft shimmer
    Caress sleeping grass

  428. Sherri Armel Cox


    Tropical island
    Frangipani enticed scent
    Love whispers in breeze

  429. Miera R

    ravenous red flames
    devour ancient forests—
    a doe calls her fawns


    the sun’s golden sword
    frees spring from winter’s stronghold—
    shy blossoms emerge


    birds twitter bees hum
    blackbirds robins wrens chorus
    —a springtime orchestra

  430. Olivia Kilmer

    Forbidden Kisses
    As hot tears fall from the sky
    Your father drives by

  431. Yash Batra

    The crisp chills now wane
    Fresh blooms, outside and within
    Transform: into you

    Heavy monsoon rains
    meet the asphalt laid with hopes
    with the steam, they rise

    Cumulous clouds part
    as golden nectar cascades
    down their luscious curves

  432. Joanna Liu

    Dead Alcoves

    In the freshly charred snow,
    A twisted dove flapped about,
    Waiting for spring love.

    Dead Flowers

    Lips shrink from stem’s bone,
    Drop themselves through dirt and stone,
    Hopeful to rise again.

    Dead Poets

    For this woven word,
    they leave these pages unbidden
    unwritten, smoked stars.

  433. Sara Naghavi

    My desires are mocked
    I’m Sisyphus without crime
    Here I’ll climb this rock

    Burnt from my limbo
    I paid my dues in torment
    Shadowed from the plan

    I’ve had stagnant say
    Pay me in life’s full beauty
    Young but deserving