The Jerry Kilbride Memorial 2012 English-Language Haibun Contest
The 11th Annual Jerry Kilbride Memorial
2013 English-Language Haibun Contest!
Sponsor: Central Valley Haiku Club (CVHC)
Deadline: In hand by December 1, 2013
Submissions: All entries must be in English, unpublished, and not currently under consideration by any online or printed publication. Haibun that have appeared on social network sites are not considered published for the purposes of this contest. There is no limit to the number or length of any submissions. Submit three copies of each haibun, two (2) copies without author information attached for anonymous judging, one (1) copy with author’s name, address, phone number and e-mail address for notification purposes. A first prize of $100 and a second prize of $50 will be awarded. Honorable mention certificates also will be given. The entry fee of $5 (US) per haibun should be paid by check and made out to: Mark Hollingsworth (CVHC Treasurer).
Eligibility: Open to the public; CVHC officers are not eligible.
Correspondence: No entries will be returned. Contestants will be notified by email. Please note that entries that fail to adhere to contest rules will be disqualified.
Judges: Will not be disclosed until the contest winner has been decided.
Send entries to: Yvonne Cabalona,
709 Auburn Street,
Modesto, CA 95350-6079.
If you have further questions, please contact Yvonne Cabalona, YCabalona@gmail.com
Saturday, March 15, 2008
from my shoe*
The food is as varied as the people attending. Attire in creative colors and fabrics, every ethnicity, smells of concoctions intermingling, wafting through the throng. Booths offering samples delivered with oversized plastic gloves and hairnets never quite covering. And yet, from the mimes, to free magnets, to cartoon characters, to that guy on stilts with the constant smile, everything fits.
she guides him
into his seat*
w. f. owen
* haiku notebook (pp. 40 & 53)
Thursday, March 13, 2008
Part of the challenge of being a human and a haijin (haiku poet) is to make sense of the worlds around and within us. Regardless of where you live, work, or play, chances are high that you are surrounded by stimuli. Some stimuli are overt, others more subtle. The perception of these stimuli guide my actions and thoughts. They also guide my haiku. In writing haiku, I try to be aware of the stimuli and to understand the root, or essense, of the sensation(s) they invoke in me. As many haiku demonstrate, the stimuli are almost never extraordinary; they are common pieces of my natural and social environments that I capture by keeping my mind's eye open as best I can. There is no special place to look for "haiku moments" -- so look everywhere.
From what I've learned, haiku are the sights, smells, touch, tastes, and sounds of a moment in words that convey related images and interpretations. Other poems do this, too, but the haiku form does it particularly well by striving for conciseness and "show vs. tell." Because haiku is so often misunderstood or misrepresented as simple and trite, I think there may be haijin and haiku out there that we overlook. Consider the following poem, "Dust of Snow" by Robert Frost:
"The way a crow
Shook down on me
The dust of snow
From a hemlock tree
Has given my heart
A change of mood
And saved some part
Of a day I had rued."
This poem, to me, expresses a "haiku moment" in a different (and arguably awkward) form. My intention is not to call Robert Frost a bad poet -- that would be wrong and ridiculous -- but rather to remind us to keep space in our days and hearts to be moved by such stimuli. I believe the important lesson is to invite and capture the images and senses of your days. ...The craft and revisions of the poems will come later.
Repost of Comments:
w. f. owen said...
Your post was very insightful. I
especially liked the last paragraph
about opening our senses and letting
the "craft" of writing come later. I know
for me the best haiku I've written merge
what I've sensed with the writing all
at once. Kind of a "eureka" moment.
It's as if the poem writes itself. Next
best, again for me, is the perception
followed closely by one or two versions
of a poem, which usually gets resolved
quickly. In any case, the sensation leads
the way. So, thanks for a thoughtful
9:50 PM PDT
Mark Hollingsworth said...
Thank you, Amy.
Yes, I think there's a haiku moment in this poem. Yes, it is awkward. And it tells. And it only has one image. So how might this moment become a haiku. Maybe:
end of winter
crow on the hemlock branch
dusts me with snow
10:36 PM PDT
Wednesday, March 12, 2008
Tuesday, March 11, 2008
Thursday, March 06, 2008
Sunday, March 02, 2008
have published or are working on
(all rights reserved by each writer).
through chain link
and over razor wire
blooming almond tree
of a mockingbird song
- Mark Hollingsworth
a few cherry blossoms
float to earth
we meet under
the cherry tree
the scent of cherry blossoms
- w. f. owen