Some Thoughts on Turning to Myth: Looking back at “The First Lamentation of Demeter ~ (Poetry and Myth)”

A Note to My Readers:

Here it is January 2026. My blog has been quiet this year for a number of reasons too long to list.  But the most obvious reason is that of a block or mental ‘resistance’ to writing. Last year in 2024,  I turned to sharing a few older poems of mine that I love. It was a good reminder to me of why I loved writing.

Today, WordPress showed me my latest stats. I rarely look at these anymore, but one thing I notice each time I see an update is that some of the poems I wrote relating to classical myths seem to be accessed the most. I wonder if, in this sad and tumultuous world and country (mine being the USA), we turn to mythology to find answers to timeless questions that appear and reappear over a lifetime. Who are we and why are we here? What is it we are looking for? What really matters? I am now 79.  Those questions and many more have come up time and time again, and the answers have been quite varied over eight decades. What do you, dear reader, think? Why do we cling to myths and tales from long ago and from cultures we know only though history books, literature or art? I’d love to know what you think.

To honor some of these poems, I’m going to post my two Lamentations of Demeter, one at a time. To save some work, I’ll post the whole original poet from my blog. I hope you find some meaning in each of them or perhaps a way to think of something beyond our wild world of today.

 

 British Museum GR 1885.3-16.1 (Terracotta C 529), AN34724001

British Museum GR 1885.3-16.1 (Terracotta C 529), AN34724001

 

Here is the original 2014 posting:

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I’ve been looking over my writing notebooks written a while back but unread by anyone other than myself or my husband. The myths of Demeter and her daughter, Persephone, fascinate many including me. For a number of reasons these myths seem to appeal especially to women. Many of the great living women poets have written brilliant poems about Persephone (e.g., Louise Glück and Eavan Boland). The story is timeless.

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In today’s poem I’ve written a Lamentation of Demeter. Demeter, the goddess of the harvest and grains, is often referred to as the mother-goddess since she represents fertility on earth. Her importance is indisputable. When she mourns for her missing daughter, Persephone (who has been abducted by Hades and taken down into the underworld by force) the seasons stop. Things stop growing and the earth begins to die before Persephone’s father, Zeus, intervenes.  You know the story, but it is worth re-reading if you haven’t read any mythology for a while.

Demeter statue in front of my gym in Hillsborough, North Carolina

Demeter statue in front of my gym in Hillsborough, North Carolina

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So what is a lamentation? The Oxford English Dictionary defines it simply: “The passionate expression of grief or sorrow; weeping.” Anyone who has grieved knows instinctively what it is to lament the loss of someone who is dearly loved. The feeling is painful and deep, and I think this resonates within us all. Demeter mourned her daughter’s abduction to a point where the earth nearly perished. This poem begins with her not yet knowing all that has happened. I picture her as a mother desperate to know what has happened to her child.

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This is one of two lamentations of Demeter I’ve written. The second will follow at some point.

Demeter

Demeter

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To listen to an audio recording of me reading this poem, click on the link below and wait a few seconds for it to begin:

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The First Lamentation of Demeter

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How is it that I don’t know where she has gone?

        I warned her.

I told her time and time again not to trust them,
that there were those who so longed for her
they would stop at nothing.

        And who was right?

Like all girls her age, she could be headstrong,
believing her own mother too old
to understand those yearnings.

         I warned her.

Last night I watched the dog star rise up.
Its magnificent beams were like beacons
that might lead me to my lost child.

        Why is it the stars are silent?

O, Sirius, your brilliant rays reach down
to us and yet your silence is puzzling.
Surely you saw where she went, my only child.

        Will no one tell me where my Persephone has gone?

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Grief-Statue

Soaring voices (three tanka)

Photo by stein egil liland: https:::www.pexels.com:photo:mountain-under-aurora-borealis-9636388:

~ ~ ~

Three tanka published in
Gusts No. 37 Contemporary Tanka, Canada,
Spring/Summer 2023  

~

I grow old now
and dream of a journey
I will never take
. . . the aurora borealis
dances, but does it sing?

~

the emptiness
of losing a friend—
never understanding
what I did or
what you felt I did

~

such soaring voices
      pure soprano & alto notes
in a boys’ choir
each singer’s gift destined
to change course

~ ~ ~

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Notes:

(1) All tanka by Mary Kendall © 2023
(2) Photo by stein egil liland
      https///www.pexels.com/photo/mountain-under-aurora-borealis-9636388/.jpg

Catching Up with Ribbons (tanka)

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Ribbons, the journal of the Tanka Society of America is a favorite of all tanka poets. It’s always an honor to have poems accepted for publication. Here are some from the last two issues.

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Ribbons Winter 2023: Volume 19, Number 1

 

crisp golden leaves
ready themselves for flight
. . . I was just five
when you walked out
and left us all behind

 

Also, in Ribbons’ Tanka Hangout:

winter winds
wildly whip limbs
boughs & branches –
come closer and hear
my heart hum along

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Plus a collaboration with Christine L. Villa–her beautiful art and my tanka that was inspired by it:

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WINTER RIBBONS Mary Kendall thinner font

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Ribbons Fall 2022: Volume 18, Number 3

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the unmistakable scent
of ripe Anjou pears –
remembering
his low voice as he read
Verlaine aloud

lovely yellow pear

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‘Tanka Studio’ in Ribbons Fall 2022

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speaking in an even tone
that gives nothing away,
your inscrutable gaze
was always a challenge
for me to decipher

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All poems (c)by Mary Kendall

Scent of beeswax

I am still catching up with published poetry. Blithe Spirit is the publication of the British Haiku Society. They selected two haiku and two tanka of mine to publish in the winter issue.

Blithe Spirit Fall/Winter Issue 2022

 

1.

brevity
the ripeness
of a pear

 2.

children
fragile as blossoms
learning to let go

3.

fragrant spices, each
with a story to tell,
a bit of this, dash of that
     my pen moves as if
propelled by a stranger
 

4.

scent of beeswax
melting as we draw
invisible designs
on our pysanky eggs—
forgotten childhood

 

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Stinging nettles

 

 

 

stinging nettles –
things that were said
I can’t forget

 

 

The Heron’s Nest
Volume XXIV, Number 4: December, 2022

 

 

 

The last plum blossom, etc. (a mix of tanka and haiku)

The lovely New Zealand journal, Kokaku, published two haiku and two tanka in their fall issue: Kokaku #37, 2022.

Kokaku #37,  2022

evening web –
the last plum blossom
caught fast

       ***

corner flower shop –
if only our lives were
arranged so well

       ***

quick twists and turns
of rutting deer ~
another season passes
adrift in colours
of passion and promise

       ***

This tanka appeared on my blog last month but was from this issue (37):

a tiny fawn dead
by the side of the road –
I close my eyes & imagine
all those children lost
in Ukraine strikes

 

       ***

 

A tiny fawn, dead… (Ukraine tanka)

Published in Kokaku, Summer/Fall 2022

~

a tiny fawn dead
by the side of the road –
I close my eyes & imagine
all those children lost
in Ukraine strikes

~

candlelight-gc591e5c78_1280

Image by meineresterampe from Pixabay

Winter birds

 

Presence #72, Spring 2022

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winter birds crack seeds
& feast on blocks of suet –
my long morning is spent
polishing old pieces
of silver we rarely use

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Screen Shot 2022-10-04 at 3.07.18 PM

Photo by Stauffers of Kissel Hill

Making Amends

Moonbathing 26, Summer 2022

 

one by one trying
hard to make amends,
I separate fine strands
of webs I’ve made
to hide my mistakes

Screen Shot 2022-09-30 at 3.22.28 PM

         ‘silk’

Panama hat/Venice

Published in Ribbons, TSA, Summer 2022

 

your Panama hat
blows off
into the Grand Canal –
if only our decisions
could be so free

Screen Shot 2022-09-30 at 2.49.29 PM

Forgiveness . . . (a tanka for meditation)

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Published in red lights, volume 18, no. 2, June 2022

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with healing hands 
placed over my heart, 
I hear its whispering
voice between beats—
forgive, forgive, forgive

              ~~~

Screen Shot 2022-08-05 at 2.51.57 PM

Dark morning & wild winds

.sea-nature-bird-wing-white-seabird-1183211-pxhere.com_

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Kokako #36, Spring 2022

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 It’s always a joy to have the New Zealand poetry journal, Kokako, publish some of my poetry.  For their spring issue, they chose a one-line haiku and two tanka. I hope you enjoy them.

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seabirds drift on thermals—night becomes day

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~~~

cassia, lady slippers,
dutchman’s breeches, rue –
my garden becomes
the one circle of friends
I find it hard to leave

.

 ~~~

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dark morning
filled with wild winds
that blow the birds awake
      & by the crows’ swift,
and sharp reply 

Inner Life . . . (tanka)

 

The third (and last) tanka published in the latest issue of Gusts:

 

 

does inner life
start or end in the heart
     I heard it for the first time
in a deep red canyon,
that distant river of me

 

 

 

GUSTS no. 35, Contemporary Tanka,
Spring/Summer  2022 Tanka Canada

Imagination . . . (tanka)

 

universe-gerd altmann

Universe by Gerd Altmann

 

A second tanka published in the spring/summer issue of Gusts:

 

imagination . . .                                
the only place it’s always
safe to go and wander,                    
just the songs of stars
and sweep of ice-drifts

 

~

GUSTS no. 35, Contemporary Tanka,
Spring/Summer  2022 (Tanka Canada)

 

 

Spring’s soft greening (tanka)

Like so many other people, the year and a half pandemic has thrown my sense of time way off. I’m so far behind in posting newly published poems on this blog that I find myself now playing catch up.  I am both honored and happy to have had such fine journals select some of my work to publish in 2021. 

 

both of us relieved
we made it to this side
of the pandemic –
falling back in love
with spring’s soft greening

 

Published in Ribbons, Tanka Café, Spring 2021

 

 

Shadow…(haiku/senryu)

Shadow…(haiku/senryu)

 

day moon ~

no shadow on

my mammogram

 

Published: Blithe Spirit  31.3  2021

 

A haiku or a senryu? I love this poem very much, and I’m so grateful to Caroline Skanne, the editor of Blithe Spirit, for choosing it for publication.

 

I have always been fascinated with seeing a “day moon.” I’ve always considered it a sign or good luck or something fortunate happening or about to happen. Do you have any thoughts about seeing the moon out during the daylight hours? Is it magical to you? It is for me.

 

 

 

 

 

The simplest thing

The simplest thing

 

Three poems (two haiku and one tanka) were published in the winter issue of Kokako, 2021. I have a real fondness for this journal because I love all things Kiwi. New Zealand is a beautiful country with such great people. They have a very active poetry community, and Kokako is a beautiful journal to be part of.

 

1.

snow drifts ~
the wild wind’s
last brief fling

2.

woodland colours
now grow pale
winter light

3.

arranging zinnias
in an old milk jug,
this pandemic silence
urges me to notice
the simplest things

Note: Photo of Zinnias (c) 2021 by Park Seeds

Passing cloud … (tanka)

Passing cloud … (tanka)

Tanka Café @ Ribbons
Winter 2021: Volume 17, Number 1

it isn’t a matter
of distance for me –
I learned by age five
how to slip deep inside
that passing cloud

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Tanka poets are always proud to have something published in Ribbons, the journal of the Tanka Society America. It is one of the finest journals out there and it’s devoted to tanka and tanka-related work. Besides the main part of Ribbons, each issue has the Tanka Café, edited by Michael McLintock. Michael is an outstanding poet and was the editor of Ribbons for a long time. For many years he has focused on the Tanka Café, a favorite place for many of us. He puts out a prompt for each issue and poets write to that prompt. He gives us great leeway in how we interpret the prompt. This issue had the theme: Escapes. A great prompt indeed! The poems selected were wonderfully varied and always great to read.  I interpreted the theme in my own way of course. It has to do with imagination and how early we can learn to escape to it when we need to get away from things in our real life. My thanks to Michael McLintock for selecting this tanka. 

A gathering basket . . . (tanka)

 

 

 

a gathering basket
filled with rosehips & hazels –
why is it so hard
to put back all the bits
and pieces you left behind?

 

 

 

Published in GUSTS: Contemporary Tanka 33 (Tanka Canada)

 

 

Nature dawn rosehips by Kasie Schlagel

Starry-eyed

 

 

starry-eyed

     the vast galaxy

of a child’s imagination

 

 

Published (c) Frogpond, Volume 44.1 Winter 2021

 

(c) The NASA/ESA Hubble Space Telescope

dream time . . . (haiku)

And yet another dream poem ~

 

 

Blithe Spirit, 30.4

 

 

dream time –
chasing blossom
after blossom  

 

 

Photo by laura adai on Unsplash

 

My thanks to Laura Adai for this beautiful photograph of drifting blossoms.

 

Chekov’s birch trees (haiku)

Presence,

Issue 68, November 2020

sleepless nights

     Chekhov’s birch trees

become our woods

Photo by Peng Chen on Unsplash

My thanks to Peng Chen for this beautiful photograph of white birch trees.

Prayer (a tanka)

So careful a gardener, he patiently weeds between the pebbles.

 

This tanka is dedicated to my dear husband, Ritchie Kendall.

 

each day you kneel
and work in the garden
I can think of nothing
more prayer-like
than this

 

 

Published in the Tanka Society of America Members’ 2020 Anthology.

 

 

Still the roses bloom…(a tanka)

 

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the chiming clock
begins to wind down . . .
five months of quarantine
yet still the roses bloom
and red birds sing

 

 

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This tanka was published in October, but obviously was written in early summer. We are now nine months into this pandemic. Writing is a wonderful relief as we isolate ourselves. Like so many poets, I find my writing has been changed by the pandemic.

cattails:
The Official Journal of the United Haiku and Tanka Society, October 2020 issue

 

 

 

Tanka No. 3: The sudden silence

 

Here is the third of my three tanka published in the latest issue of Gusts no. 32, Fall/Winter 2020:

 

 

even the crows
are quiet now . . .
the sudden silence
that morning snow
brings

 

 

 

 

Tanka No. 2: pale pink petals

Here’s the second tanka published in
Gusts no. 32, Fall/Winter 2020

 

 

pale pink petals
scattered on the desk
one by one the days
of isolation pass,
each fading to nothing

 

 

 

 

Tanka No. 1: Lapis lazuli . . .

Three tanka published in the winter edition of Gusts, Contemporary Tanka, the journal of Tanka Canada. It’s always a huge thrill to be included in this special journal of tanka. I’ll offer them one at a time.

Gusts no. 32, Fall/Winter 2020

lapis lazuli, delft blue
and French ultramarine . . .
the blueness of blue
in these tired veins
just won’t let go

forgetfulness

 

 

forgetfulness—

soft feathers drift out

of a poultry truck

 

~ ~

 

Published in Frogpond vol. 43:3 fall 2020

 

Frogpond is the journal of the Haiku Society of America

Catching up!

Today I realized I’d forgotten to post a number of poems published this year (2020), so here they are. I hope you enjoy reading them.

Ribbons 16:2 (spring 2020)

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icebergs drift and melt
and furious fires rage
will this earth dissolve
into rivulets
of decisions poorly made?

~

Frameless Sky, Issue 12, 2020

soft ripe plums
sitting on the sideboard ~
wouldn’t it lovely
to know you’re
so desired

Presence 66

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tiny fledglings
with wings outstretched
take that first leap—
how old were we
when doubt began

                             ~

wind spilling
from copper rain bells
unbroken drought

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                        ~

impossible
to count them
fireflies

Sea glass (a tanka)

The second of two tanka appearing Eucalypt: A Tanka Journal, 

Issue 28, 2020

 

 

sea glass in cerulean,
aqua and seafoam green
wash up in the morning tide,
mysteries I gently place
in this pail of dreams

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Little frog faces (tanka/kyoka)

 

One of two tanka appearing Eucalypt: A Tanka Journal, Issue 28, 2020

 

in the attic I find
your small Wellies                            
with little frog faces—
oh, those happy puddles
when you were only three

 

 

Note: We lived near Hampstead Heath in NW London for a full academic year, 1989-90, with our (then) three year old son, Adam. Oh, how he loved rain puddles and stomping in them in his little green Wellies. Getting exercise each day was never a problem with a child who loved the outdoors no matter what the weather. This poem is for him.

 

 

Half-light (a tanka sequence)

Milkweed by James DeMers (pixabay.com)

These tanka were written during the quarantine of Covid-19. My thanks to editor/poet, Marilyn Hazelton, for persuading me to combine some tanka into a tanka sequence.  A really good editor is priceless. It’s always an honor to have poems included in Redlights. Click on the link below if you care to hear me read it.

 

 

 

 

Half-light

 

August morning
just before the katydids
begin to sing . . .
the lake finally calm
with no ripples

 

milkweed seeds
scatter straight from
the cottony pod ~
such freedom to go
anywhere, everywhere

 

a spoon slowly stirs
cream into coffee
those quiet moments
when we lose
all sense of now

 

arm in arm
we walk together –
forty years & more miles
than either of us
can count

 

half-light—
walking in fog
where nothing is seen
but somehow we trust
it’s still all there

 

 

Red Lights, Summer Issue 2020

 

 

Chokecherry

 

 

the slow hiss
and sudden pop
of a pinecone in fire—
admitting the mistake
is a first step

 

*

 

had you lived
we’d almost be twins,
two sisters
so close in time
we nearly touched

 

*

 

this urge
to turn and walk away
     chokecherry

 

 

Mary Kendall (c) 2020

Kokako 32, 2020, a journal of the New Zealand Poetry Society
My thanks to the editors of Kokako for publishing all three poems.

 

 

Green . . . (Synesthesia in haiku)

Synesthesia in haiku ~

 

This haiku was recently published in Hedgerow, a journal of small poems ~ #130, Winter 2020

 

 

spring…
hearing green
and only green

 

 

 

 

 

 Haru = Spring

Imagine my surprise … (tanka/kyoka)

 

Prune Juice, Journal of Senryu, Kyoka, Haibun & Haiga
Issue #30, March 2020

 

 

both parents

dead at sixty one –

imagine my surprise

the day I turned

sixty-two

 

 

The bite of winter wind . . . (haiku)

 

Published in Modern Haiku, Winter-Spring, Issue 50:4, 2019

 

the bite of winter wind
      all this murmuring
but no words

 

 

 

Peripheral vision … (two tanka)

Redlights, Volume 16, No. 1, January 2020

 


a gradual loss
of peripheral vision
leaves it all unclear 
     why is it that the brain 
still searches for the edge
 

~

underlined passages
in a library book –
I idle away an hour
puzzling why a reader
chose those words

Snow melt (haiku)

 

The Heron’s Nest
Volume XXII, Number 1: March 2020

 

snow melt

a trickle of caribou

comes to an end

 

 

You turn a deaf ear . . . (3 Tanka)

 

Published in Gusts 31 (Spring/Summer 2020), Tanka Canada

 

Three tanka written and read by Mary Kendall (click on link):

 

 

how do I tell you

about the darkness                             

that embraces me,

    uninvited

    unwanted  

 

          ~

 

a loose shutter

flaps in the storm ~

times when it’s so easy

to lose names, numbers

and where to go

 

           ~

 

the morning spent

ripping out

wild honeysuckle vines . . .

no matter how hard I try

you turn a deaf ear

 

 

Becoming my mother . . .

 

 

A Thousand Voices,
2019 Tanka Society of America Member’s Anthology

 

sweet peas,

crab apple blossoms

and old roses—

for part of each day

I become my mother

 

 

Widowhood

 

Published in FROGPOND, Volume 43:1, Winter 2020:

 

 

 

 

widowhood

day blurs into evening

into night . . .

 

 

 

 

This poem is dedicated to my dear sister-in-law, Paulett Brylinski, who lost her beloved husband, Jimmy, in December 2017. Watching her learn to cope and live with grief has taught me so much about courage and love.

 

Woods Hole, MA – 3/30/14

 

 

 

Two (winning) haiga

I don’t enter many poetry contests, but I do love to see what entries win or place in contests/competitions I enjoy and admire. There is always so much to learn from other writers, of course, and it is always an inspiration to see what others produce.

One competition I really wanted to enter was the Fourth Annual Jane Reichhold Memorial Haiga  Competition, which is co-hosted by Failed Haiku and Prune Juice, two of the very finest Senryu journals around. It is divided into two groups: the Traditional (i.e., with original drawn art) Category (judged by Ron C. Moss) and the Photographic/Mixed Media Category (judged by Steve Hodge). My two entries were in the second category using photographs I had taken. One was left untouched and the other was embellished by some art programs I enjoy using on my iPad.

Imagine my surprise when I found out one of my entries won First Place in the Photographic/Mixed Media Category and the other one got an Honorable Mention! Yes, I was over the moon. It’s a double honor indeed. All the other entries selected in both categories were wonderful. I really can’t imagine how an editor selects one over another, but they do. My thanks to editor, Steve Hodge for selecting both of my haiga in this competition. I am deeply honored. Thanks also to Mike Rehling and Brent Goodman who edit Failed Haiku and Prune Juice.

I’ve included the comments of the editor because it’s always great to hear someone else’s interpretation and response to a poem.

 

 

 

 

The voice I’d lost . . . (tanka)

 

 

it took sixty years
to find the voice I’d lost–
that day
blue dragonflies
alighted at water’s edge

 

 

 

Moonbathing, a Journal of Women’s Tanka, Fall/Winter 2019.      
Edited by Pamela A. Babusci

Life

Two tanka were published in

 

Eucalypt Issue 27, 2019

 

 

miscarriage—
the very word
betrays
the promise
of hope

 

 

 

 

persimmon sun
dips low and sets –
moonlight on the bed
where I was born
& where my father died

 

 

 

Dove photo by Merlune

 

 

 

Cat’s tongue . . .

 

 

One haiku and one tanka were published in Presence, Issue #65, 2019

 

 

cat’s tongue
the shallow rasp
of a scar

* * *

 

tree bark
kissed by wind—
out of the blue
a memory of you
appears

 

 

 

 

Lemon oil rubbed on old wood . . .

 

Blithe Spirit 29:4, 2019 (two tanka)

 

 

 

the familiar scent
of lemon oil rubbed
on old wood –
a new cat finds a place
in your empty chair

* * *

 

 

on the ground
a nest of hatchlings
fallen from a tree –
how well you always
hid your pain

 

 

 

Dementia . . .

 

The Heron’s Nest, Volume XXI, Number 3: September 2019

 

dementia

     the soft clay begins

to harden

 

 

 

Three Tanka in Gusts

Three tanka were published in the last issue of
Gusts, Contemporary Tanka  No. 30, Fall/Winter 2019

 

 

as Geminids flit by
in the inky darkness
I pull your jacket tight
around myself
. . . all I have left

 

∼ ∼ ∼

 

ripeness
bears its own burden . . .
fragrant peaches
   dangle low
       bruises   a breath   away

 

∼ ∼ ∼

 

 

in old growth grass     
a newborn fawn
wobbles on spindly legs –
a sure reminder
how brief a season is

 

 

 

Three in Kokako 31

 

KOKAKO 31 , 2019, a journal of the New Zealand Poetry Society

 

 

 

first apricots
the baby’s soft breath
in my ear

~

 

moonflower
night after night
that same dream

~

 

barely a whisper
between daylight
and nightfall
       when shadows
hide in darkness

 

Chasing the night

 

2019 Haiku Society of America Members’ Anthology (A Moment’s Longing):

 

 

chasing the night—

a falling blossom

graces my tea

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Catching up!

Over the past few months, a lot of my work has been published, but I’ve been negligent in getting them posted. Breaking from my usual tradition of a separate post for each journal, I’m going to post all of them here in a single posting. Separate poems and journals are both divided by  ***.

 

 

Redlights, Volume 15, No. 2, June 2019

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a day will come

when we are the faces

in old picture albums

and no one left

to give us names

***

 

babcia’s borscht recipe

in faded black ink—

can you smell the beets

bubble and hear her

hum along

 

 

Ribbons Spring/Summer 2019: Volume 15, No. 2

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PET scan . . .

all the dogs & cats

I ever knew & loved

romp in the tunnel

where I lie in stillness

***

 

Ribbons Spring/Summer 2019: Volume 15, No. 2

Tanka Café:  Theme: What Matters [to You]

 

they say time

moves faster as we age

yet here I am

stealing an hour

to listen to the birds

 ***

 

cattails: The Official Journal of the United Haiku and Tanka Society, April 2019 Issue

.

 

late winter

the garden’s breath

shifts once more

 

*** 

 

one crow

and a clutch of chickadees

at the birdfeeder —

that simple need

to fit in someplace

       

 

***

 

 

Frogpond 42.2 * 2019

.

graveside—

white blossoms

lighten the darkness

 

 

*** 

 

 

Blithe Spirit 29.2, 2019

.

 

evening meditation

fireflies flit here

& there

                           & there

 

***

.

sacred sites

finding myself praying

in another language

.

***

.

the soft rustle

of quivering aspen leaves

over and over

I replay the words

I might have said

.

***

.

a feeling of you

standing behind me …

when I turn around,

only shadow

only silence

.

 

*** 

 

 

.

Moonbathing 20 Spring/Summer 2019

.

 

sea glass

    a distant story

        told in waves

            I long

                to read

 

.

*** 

.

The Heron’s Nest, Volume XXI, Number 2: June 2019

.

 

a single brass button—

I try to remember

his voice

*** 

.

Eucalypt  Issue 26,  2019

.

 

without warning

a leaf rises in the wind

then tumbles—

our need for forgiveness

so unexpected, too

.

(Eucalypt, The Distinctive Scribblings Awards)

http://eucalypt.info/E-awards.html?fbclid=IwAR2TIZkoI7env3GUJGjZftPzY1FSJbEBKzn5UTsZ7nmXxncO_NpCwyEzE_A

 

 

*** 

.

Gusts, Contemporary Tanka  No. 29, Spring/Summer 2019

 

.

 

faint notes

of a harpsichord

playing Bach –

why is it you always wait

for one wrong note

 

 ***

 

you pour a second cup

of pale moon tea

in a teashop in Prague

. . . I wonder what story

the leaves might tell

 

 

***

 

walking alone

past the tide’s own

push and pull –

I turn to see my footprints

wash away

 

 

*** 

 

 

Kokako 30, 2019

 

.

 

abbey ruins

voices of evensong

     nowhere                 everywhere

 

***

 

 

old burying ground

so many grave markers

buried too

 

***

 

 

in the coffee shop

a glimpse of someone

who looks just like you—

I quickly check my face

in a mirror

 

***

 

 

dark storm clouds

dissolve in sunlight

and shift again—

your changing moods

just as quick

***

 

 

Haiku Holiday turns 40

 

The North Carolina Haiku Society hosts an all-day meeting on the last Saturday of each April. This year marked the 40th year of these days called “Haiku Holiday.” Each of the past 40 years has been hosted by one wonderful poet and woman, Jean Earnhardt

on Bolin Brook Farm, an old farmstead that has been in her family for 12 generations. Can you imagine opening up your home and garden annually to a large group of poets? Jean does so graciously and with a welcoming, inclusive attitude. Thank you, Jean!

 

“In honor of the 40th anniversary of Haiku Holiday, we read 40 haiku by current and past members of the North Carolina Haiku Society. Crystal Simone-Smith selected the poems and published them as a broadside.”  (Dave Russo, the NCHS website Editor)

 

The Broadside is so beautiful, and it’s an honor to be part of this. My two haiku are listed below. My thanks to Crystal for selecting this to be included.

 

Haiku Holiday, NCHS, 2019

40 Years, 40 Haiku: A Broadside

 

 

dandelion—

more and more invisible

as I grow old

 

 

our country’s story

ever evolving

. . . fallen blossoms

 

 

Both haiku by Mary Kendall (c) 2019

 

unearthing beauty (rengay)

 

 

My deepest thanks to Kate MacQueen for writing this rengay with me. It was a wonderful and illuminating experience to write with Kate. Kate’s verses are #2, 4, 6 (italicized) and mine are #1, 3, 5.

 

This rengay was published in Vines #3, part of the publication hedgerow edited by Caroline Skanne. 

 

Note: for readers not acquainted with rengay, here is a definition from “Graceguts” by Michael Dylan Welch:

“Garry Gay invented a renga alternative in the summer of 1992: the “rengay.”

“The rengay is a collaborative six-verse linked thematic poem written by two or three poets using alternating three-line and two-line haiku or haiku-like stanzas in a regular pattern. The pattern for two people is A-3, B-2, A-3, B-3, A-2, B-3, with the letters representing the poets, and the numbers indicating the number of lines in each given verse.” 

dreams lost in dreams . . . (three haiku)

 

Three haiku were also published in Presence, Issue #62, 2018:

 

1.

 

dreams lost in dreams wild poppies

 

 

Field of Poppies, Photographer Unknown

 

2.

 

“Snow” by gookingsword (Pixabay)

 

 

 

deep in winter

abandoned nests

and forgotten songs

 

 

 

3.

 

waking from a dream

the night winds

unsettle the moon

 

 

Photo by Kenrick Mills on Unsplash

 

 

 

Loneliness . . . (three tanka)

Blithe Spirit, Journal of the British Haiku Society,
Volume 28 Number 4, November 2018

 

Three tanka were published in Blithe Spirit this past November:

 

 

 Snow Landscape by Hans Braxmeier

 

 

winter woodland

bereft of birdsong 

           with your passing 

even clear days

are shadowed

 

 

Photo by Frantisek Krejci

 

 

together so long

we seem to finish

one another’s  sentences,

fluent in the pauses

of each other’s mind

 

 

 

Universe by Gerd Altmann

 

loneliness

comes and goes,

dancing around

my mind

with two left feet

 

 

 

 

 

finding a way back . . . (four Senryu)


Part 2:
Prune Juice, A Journal of Senryu, Kyoka,
Haibun and Haiga,
Issue 26 – November 2018

 

 

Four Senryu:

 

 

reproach –
finding a way back
from heated words

 

~

 

 

 

overanalyzing–
the smell of wood smoke
on the wind

 

~

 

 

 

winter walk
learning to negotiate
what can’t be seen

 

~

 

 

the house
where I was born
weeds & more weeds

 

 

 

          Photograph by Marina Shemesh

No second guessing

 

1.

 

how many times

can a stone skip

before sinking . . .

deep in my breast

a small lump appears

 

Unsplash by Linus Nylund

 

 

2.

 

no second guessing a kingfisher’s straight dive

 

 

 

Kingfisher and Irises by-Ohara Koson, The Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam, Holland.

 

 

3.

leaves turning –

an old friendship

ends

 

Golden Tree by Mary Kendall

 

 

ephemerae,
an international of haikai, tanka & beyond

Volume 1, C: November 2018

 

My thanks to Shrikaanth Krishnamurthy for publishing two of my haiku and one tanka in the November issue of ephemerae

 

 

 

 

Almost . . . (tanka)

 

Ribbons, the Journal of the Tanka Society of America Fall 2018: Volume 14, Number 3

 

 

the long scar

down your chest

almost healed —

so hard to forget

you almost disappeared

 

 

   

Ribbons, the Journal of the Tanka Society of America
Fall 2018: Volume 14, Number 3

 

 

 

Hospice window (a haiku)

My first time in this journal.

 

Haiku Canada Review, October 2018

 

 

hospice window

cherry blossoms

fade and fall

 

heart in pink

Frayed feathers . . . (a haiku)

 

Acorn: A Journal of Contemporary Haiku (issue 41), October 2018:

 

 

 

frayed feathers
beneath the dogwood tree


silence

bird-feather-13486506267nW

 

 

 

 

Silence . . . (a tanka)

 

One tanka published in:

cattails, October 2018 Issue

The Official Journal of the United Haiku and Tanka Society

 

 

 

 

told not to tell

or be a bother

a child soon finds

a world of her own

silence

 

 

 

Mary age 4A

In that silence, poems are born.

 

 

I urge all of you to read the full issue of cattails, which you can download as a pdf here:  http://cattailsjournal.com/currentissue.html

Black swan . . . (haiku)

 

cattails, October 2018 Issue

The Official Journal of the United Haiku and Tanka Society

 

 

 

black swan    

the beauty

in difference

 

 

 

 

 

Screen Shot 2018-10-15 at 4.48.54 PM

Credit:Bournemouth News / Rex Features

 

 

 

I urge all of you to read the full issue of cattails, which you can download as a pdf here:  http://cattailsjournal.com/currentissue.html

 

Rain patter . . .(3 tanka)

 

Three tanka published in one my very favorite journals.

 

 

GUSTS No. 28, Contemporary Tanka
(fall/winter 2018)

 

 

pounding rains

& the peonies are lost –

how did I miss

your pallor, your reticence

that last day?

 

 

turning from pale gold

to dusky violet

our last embrace

so certain

so final

 

 

rain patter

on windows –

just when it seems

the darkness is over

it all begins again

 

 

YIRtnskUQyitIZ2kaY+Q2Q_mini_1464

Changing Notes (a Tanka Sequence)

 

My thanks to my friend, poet and editor, Shrikaanth Krishnamurthy for writing this tanka sequence, “Changing Notes,” with me. It was published in Kokako 29, a journal of the Poetry Society of New Zealand.

 

 Changing Notes

A Responsive Tanka Sequence

by

Shrikaanth Krishnamurthy (UK) and Mary Kendall (USA)

 

glass bangles
tinkling with laughter 
rice grains
strewn on the newlyweds
seeding a new dream

(SK)

 

such longing
month after month
turning to years
suddenly the emptiness
disappears

(MK)

 

the curve of his hand
cups the moon 
quickening
the one butterfly
aflutter in my belly

(SK)

 

watching
the fragile pulse
of his fontanelle
and those half smiles
in his milky dreams

(MK)

 

rocking horse
hither and thither 
the long curls
of sun-kissed memories
braided into birdsong 

(SK)

 

one day his son will chatter
in a different tongue
raven locks
eased into smoothness
. . . a new chosen land

(MK)

 

Billowing fog (a few haiku & tanka)

 

 

Two haiku and one tanka in Kokako 29, 2018, a journal of the New Zealand Poetry Society:

 

 

where the house
once stood
only cherry blossoms 

 

 

 

billowing fog
the burden of keeping
your secret

 

 

 

rosé bottle
the forgiving vagueness
of frosted glass
the morning
after

 

 

 

 

Screen Shot 2018-09-28 at 4.01.00 PM

no attribution for this lovely picture I found online

 

 

 

Unwanted touch …

 

Presence Issue 61 (2018) / three haiku and one tanka:

 

1.

a shadow blocks the light    unwanted touch

 

2.

washed up –
this broken shell
once sang the sea

3.

far above
old cotton fields –
migrating swans

4.

thin curls of wood
fly away
from the lathe –
his memory slips 
away bit by bit

 

Screen Shot 2018-08-12 at 11.46.46 AM

 

 

 

Chopping carrots…

 

failed haiku: A Journal of English Senryu, Volume 3, Issue 32

 

one haiku:

chopping carrots –
with each decisive cut
I think of you

 

and two pieces of tankart:

belladonna

 

 

an alligator glides by

 

 

Haiku and  Tankart are by Mary Kendall, (c) 2018

best journal and pen

With breath so soft . . . (tanka)

 

Redlights, June 2018:

 

a newborn fawn
hidden in tall grasses,
with breath so soft
not even a dandelion
stirs

 

Fawn by Carmen Sterba Russell

Photograph by Carmen Sterba Russell (used with her permission) (c) 2018

When you were six (tanka)

 

Redlights, June 2018:

 

when you were six
I longed to keep you
that age forever
      once upon a time
      I knew you so well

 

 

 

birthday candles 6

 

 

Dedicated to my son, Adam.

 

.

Only four . . . (two tanka)

 


Published in Ribbons, Spring/Summer 2018: Volume 14, Number 2

 

 

the squeak

of the old swing . . .

only four when carefully taught

to keep that secret

to myself

 

 

This tanka was published in the Tanka Café of Ribbons

 

 

the little girl’s doll

marred by lipstick

scrawled on her face

. . . maybe this time 

mother will notice

 


IMG_0483

As if on cue . . . (Senryu/Tankart)

 

Painted in Waterlogue

 

Published:  Failed Haiku, a Journal of English Senryu, Volume 3, Issue 31,
July 2018

Guest editors: Lori A. Minor and Chase Gagnon
Primary editor: Michael Rehling

 

 

Note: I’d like to thank my dear friend, Christine M. Kalke for her permission to use her beautiful photograph that was taken in Scandinavia during one of her visits. The digital art work was done by me. 

No looking back… (tanka)

 

Moonbathing, A Journal of Women’s Tanka, Issue 18, Spring/Summer 2018

 

 blue-black mussels
torn from harbor rocks
fill the worn rusty pail –
there was no looking back
when I left you

 

 

 

Screen Shot 2018-06-13 at 5.52.55 PM

 

The faded notes … (two tanka)

 

Ephemerae, a new journal of hakai, Volume 1A, April 2018 has just been published in the U.K. I am honored to have two tanka included in this first edition. Edited by Shrikaanth K. Murthy, there are over 160 fine poets included from around the world.

 

 

 

returning again

to the faded notes

scribbled in margins

I search for traces

of who you really were

 

          …

 

reflected

in a bookshop window

sun glinting behind

your image imposed

over mine

 

 

Both tanka (c) 2018 Mary Kendall

 

ephemerae 1A Spring 2018

Twisted in shame … (two tanka)

 

 

Skylark Tanka Journal 6:1, Summer 2018:

Two tanka

 

 

 

 

old walking stick—

once it was

a branch

that stretched

to the sky

 

              . . .

 

 

all those years spent

twisted in shame –

cultivating old world roses

but still ignoring          

the thorns

 

 

 

A beautiful walking stick made in the traditional manner.

Notes from other lives… (two tanka)

 

Gusts, no. 27, Contemporary Tanka (Canada)
spring/summer 2018

 

 

heart fluttering

and eyes closed tight –

it was as if you knew

the swallows had flown

away again

 

 

 

 

shipwreck spoils

wash back and forth

upon the tide –

notes from other lives

left in sea glass shards

 

 

Both tanka (c) 2018, Mary Kendall

Wild Strawberries (a responsive tanka sequence)

wild strawberries

 

Wild Strawberries

A Responsive tanka sequence

Mary Kendall (USA) & Hazel Hall (Australia)

 

around the turn
we come across a patch
of wild strawberries
. . . a sudden longing
for something left behind                                                       ​​MK

 

dividing
our harvest carefully   
the taste
of over-ripened fruit
lingers in the mouth                                                                     HH

 

searching everywhere
for that old blue sweater
one dropped stitch
and a secret hidden
in worn woolen strands​​​​​                                                            MK

 

unraveling
our future fears
. . . two sparrows
perched on the scarecrow
pull father’s scarf apart ​​​​​                                                          HH

 

somewhere in silence
lies an answer . . .
each spring the task
of double digging soil
before planting   ​​​​​​​                                                                     MK

 

wheel turning
I throw a new pot . . .
moulding hope
for the future,
a fragile process​​​​​​​                                                                      HH

 

 

Published in Ribbons, Winter 2018: Volume 14, Number 1

 

 

wisteria finds a new path . . . (three tanka)

 

wild voices vol 2

 

 

This collection is beautiful to read in hand. The poets and the poems are excellent. Some gorgeous haiga is included, too.

To order a copy:  https://wildflowerpoetrypress.wordpress.com/current-titles/

Screen Shot 2018-03-17 at 10.08.08 PM

 

 

 

Curtains billowing . . .

It’s a real honor to have three tanka and one haiku published in a favorite journal of mine, Blithe Spirit. My thanks to editor Shrikaanth Krishnamurthy for his support and encouragement.

Blithe Spirit, Volume 28, Number 1, Journal of the British Haiku Society, February Issue 2018

 

 

curtains billowing

in the warm spring air

each strand of lace

intricate, undecipherable

… like you

 

 

an early daffodil

frozen in a bed of snow

you left us

long before

we were ready

 

 

spooning dumplings

into chicken soup

I imagine my mother –

how I wish we had

another chance

 

 

milkweed pods

               fading to nothing

              as we age

 

Lucie Veilleux aka 3dots

Milkweed Pods by Lucie Veilleux aka 3dots

Cherry blossoms . . . (a haiku)

 

 

Golden Haiku Third Place Winner

 

In Washington, DC, the winners and runners up of the Golden Triangle Haiku Competition are displayed in individual signs on downtown streets. Mine placed third out of over 1,675 entries from 45 countries and 34 states, and the District of Columbia. This was quite a nice surprise for me. This year’s contest theme was “Spring in the City.”

 

Here is a press release giving background of this competition:

https://goldentriangledc.com/news/golden-triangle-in-washington-d-c-announces-2018-golden-haiku-winners/

Use this link to read all the haiku that are now on signs on Washington DC streets.

Click to access Golden-Haiku-2018-Signs.pdf

 

Photo by Theodor Horydcz, Tidal Basin with Cherry Blossoms, Washington, DC

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Not mine, but this is an example of how all the haiku are displayed in the Farragut Square area of Washington, DC

 

 

Flying against the wind

The poem, “Flying Against the Wind” is the final poem in my chapbook, Erasing the Doubt, (c) 2015,  Finishing Line Press. (The book is available for purchase from Finishing Line Press.)

 

 

Flying Against the Wind

 

Your thoughts drifted out to sea—riding on the wind

like wisps of breath lost on a freezing day.

.
With only the lighthouse for company and water all around,

your steady feet were planted firmly on the point.

You looked as if you were an island isolated from the world,

but you were not.

 

The chill March air made even you feel cold.

You pulled the flapping wings of your jacket closed,

zipped it, and slid your hands deep inside the pockets.

Except for this, you never moved.

 

You stood there looking at the sea that went on forever,

searching the horizon for clues where it might end.

The wind stung your eyes as waves conjured up whitecaps,

then swept them away like mermaids lost and turned to foam

while currents pulled together and then apart.

 

A fierce gust blew through your bones, trying to topple you,

but you stood fast. Even sea birds hid behind steep cliffs,

not daring to fly against the wind.

 

waves

“Arai: Whitecaps on the Ocean (Arai—Enkai hato),” c. 1848-1849, by Utagawa Hiroshige I

Pooh sticks . . .

 

IMG_0052

In the November, 2017 issue of Blithe Spirit, the Journal of the British Haiku Society, these tanka and haiku were published. All poems are (c) 2017 Mary Kendall.

 

Screen Shot 2018-01-06 at 1.16.02 AM

 

 

Queen’s dollhouse—
we examine the tiny rooms
in barely a whisper

 

 

crowning—
the full moon pushes
through fog

 

 

 

his fingerprint
left under a cup
he made
her only way
to hold on

 

kimjpalmer_star_tribune.com_

 

the slow uncurling
of the fiddleheads
one by one
learning to let go
is never easy

 

 

 

A child’s grave … (Tanka Art)

a child's grave

 

Also appearing in Skylark, a Tanka Journal, Volume 5, Issue 2, Winter 2017 is this piece of Tanka Art. The photograph was taken by me in the cemetery of Holy Trinity Church (where William Shakespeare is buried) in Stratford-Upon-Avon, UK in 2015.

 

Day’s End (a rengay)

This rengay was published in Skylark, a Journal of Tanka,
Volume 5, Issue 2, Winter 2017

 

               DAY’S END  

Mary Kendall  & Bill Waters 

 

 

stillness –                                            MK

violet fades

to black

 

the scratch of a match                     BW

as I strike it

 

a flicker                                              MK

of memory starts

then stops

 

turn of the tide . . .                          BW

how hard it is

to let go

 

a limb of driftwood                        MK

pulled back to sea

 

fair nights or foul                           BW

the lighthouse beam

shining

 

It is always a real honor to be invited to write responsively with a poet I admire. In this case, poet Bill Waters asked if I’d like to write a rengay with him. I love Bill’s poetry and his originality. I had read many rengay, but I’d never written one. Of course trying out a new form is always both fun and a challenge, so without hesitation I agreed. Bill had written rengay with other poets, so I depended upon him to keep me on track, and he did. The process of linking and shifting in responsive writing is the best part of the process. Having this rengay accepted for publication in Skylark, a Journal of Tanka edited by Claire Everett was another honor for both of us. Thanks, Bill, for this invitation.

Skylark Winter 2017

Note:  For more poetry by Bill Waters, please visit his websites:

Bill Waters~~Haiku/
Haiku + Tanka, Haibun, Rengay, & More:
https://billwatershaiku.wordpress.com

Bill Waters~~ Not Haiku (blog within a blog):  https://billwatershaiku.wordpress.com/bill-waters-not-haiku/

 

Soaring alone (a haiga)

 

This Haiga was published in Failed Haiku: A Journal of English Senryu, October 2017.

Painted in Waterlogue

The artwork was done using Waterlogue.

A satchel full of winter longing . . . (two tanka)

 

two tanka cattails fall 2017

 

Published: cattails: The Official Journal of the United Haiku and Tanka Society October 2017 Issue

A wash of deep blue . . . (haiku)

This poem was selected as an Editor’s Choice (EC) – Haiku in cattails by Geethanjali Rajan, haiku editor of this journal, whose comments are given here:

 

Screen Shot 2017-10-14 at 4.02.35 PM

Published: cattails: The Official Journal of the United Haiku and Tanka Society October 2017 Issue

 

 

The pale twilight

 

pale twilight 2.png

 

Tanka by Mary Kendall (c) 2017

Fear of dark water

dark_water_stock_by_leandrasstock

 

GUSTS, NO. 24, Contemporary Tanka, Fall/Winter 2017 (Tanka Canada) This is the third of three tanka published in this issue of Gusts.

Note: I have added the picture of dark water here on my blog. The original tanka does not appear with the picture in Gusts. The original water picture is called, “Dark Water”and is by (c) LeandrasStock.

Reckoning . . .

 

Gusts fall 2017 no 1

 

 

owl close up

Note: This beautiful owl drawing appears on Pinterest, but I was unable to trace it to a specific artist. I am grateful to the unknown artist for putting this lovely piece ‘out there’ for others to view and use.

Spent blossoms . . . (honorable mention)

Sakura flower or cherry blossoms in Japan.

 

Vancouver Cherry Blossom Festival
2017 Haiku Invitational Winners

 USA
Honourable Mentions

 

 

spent blossoms—

the remission, too,

was unexpected

.
                          Mary Kendall
                         Chapel Hill, North Carolina

 

 

To view all the winners and honorable mentions, please click on this link to go to the official website:

http://www.vcbf.ca/haiku-invitational/winning-haiku/2017-winning-haiku

Note: The beautiful picture of cherry blossoms (above) is taken from the website, Flower Meaning (http://www.flowermeaning.com). Also, from this website:

What is the Sakura Flower?

While the Japanese called this flower the sakura, you likely know it as the cherry blossom instead. The blossom of the Japanese Cherry, also known as the Prunus serrulata, is technically the sakura flower. However, other varieties of blooming cherries are also grown in Japan and referred to with the same name. The cherry blossom became so popular in the Heian era of Japan’s history that the word for flower became synonymous with sakura. People have been picnicking under the blooming trees since 700 A.D., a tradition that continues today.

 

The beautiful and very short lived cherry blossoms symbolize the brevity of life. The kanji (above) is for Sakura or cherry blossom. I think the kanji is just as beautiful by itself as is a single cherry blossom.

The sudden way . . .

Blithe Spirit is the Journal of the British Haiku Society. Two of my tanka and one haiku were published in Volume 27, Number 23 (2017). I am most grateful to be part of this issue.

 

old shoes –
the challenge
of moving on

Screen Shot 2017-09-17 at 4.04.58 PM

plum blossoms—
watching you
struggle for so long
I remember how brief
a season is

stopping to study
fritillaries, tulips
and jonquils –
the sudden way
you take my hand

 

IMG_4621 (1)

 

(c) 2017, Mary Kendall
Blithe Spirit, Volume 27, Number 23 (2017)

Luna moth . . . (haiku)

 

Luna moth
this brief life
soon eclipsed

 

~Mary Kendall~

Published in Presence Issue 58, July 2017

luna moth

Luna Moth, photographer unknown

Faded numbers… (haiku)

 

faded numbers
tattooed on your arm
I slip back in silence
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~Mary Kendall~


Published in Presence 58 July 2017
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Back story on this tanka. In 1972 I visited friends in Israel. As a tourist, I was eager to see the historical sites, one of which was Masada, site of a group suicide where a Jewish community was surrounded by Roman soldiers. The Jews chose suicide rather than be taken as captives. As I stood high up on the hilly site with other visitors, it was very, very quiet. It was after all a sacred place. An older man stood next to me, and I happened to glance at him also looking out at where the soldiers would have been waiting, hoping to starve out the isolated Jewish community. I noticed on his arm, faded numbers–numbers, of course, indicating he’d been captive in a Concentration Camp. The poignancy of him being there has stayed with me for over forty years. Never again, please Lord, shall we do such things to our fellow men.

Both pictures are from travel sites to and in Israel. Masada is located in the Judean desert, very close to the Dead Sea. Visiting these sites is like stepping back two thousand years. I am so grateful for having had this opportunity to visit.

A sudden glint … (tanka)

 

staring skyward
at the meteor shower
I brush away two fireflies–
a sudden glint
of new found love

 

~ Mary Kendall

 

Presence, Issue 58, July 2017

 

My thanks to the editors of Presence for publishing this tanka.

 

On the day I die…(a tanka)

 

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This tanka was published in the Tanka Café in Ribbons Spring/Summer 2017: Volume 13, Number 2. The Tanka Café theme was nature.