Between July 2015 and October 2015, a total of 244 haiku and 49 tanka were submitted by 89 authors for this selection. The deadline for entries was October 15, 2015. I anonymized these texts before the selection began. The jury consisted of Ruth Guggenmos-Walter, Heinz Schneemann and Frank Dietrich. The members of the selection group did not submit their own texts.

All selected texts - 50 haiku and 7 tanka - are published in the order of the scores.

"A haiku / a tanka that appeals to me particularly" - this is the motto for each jury member to choose up to three texts (still anonymized), to present and comment here.

The next deadline for the Haiku / Tanka selection

is January 15th, 2016!

Each participant can submit up to five texts - but only three of them are haiku.

With the submission, the author gives his consent for a possible publication http://www.zugetextet.com/.

Each member of the DHG has the option of naming a haiku from a submission, which, if the jury disregards it, is to be published on a separate member's page in SUMMER GRASS. The following applies to all submissions: They must never have been published anywhere, neither in print media nor in digital media.

Please send the submissions in the mail body (no attached files) to: auswahlen@deutschehaikugesellschaft.de

Since the jury should consist of changing participants, I would like to cordially invite all interested DHG members to participate as a jury member in upcoming selection rounds. It's fun and you learn a lot.

Petra Klingl

A haiku / tanka that particularly appeals to me

Aleppo -
the eyes of the ruin
and that of the children

Horst Oliver Buchholz

I was immediately captivated by my eyes. At first it was big, lively eyes that stuck in old walls and moved and looked like in a fantastic film. But of course in Haiku the “ruins” do not only mean the irretrievably lost monuments, but also the destroyed houses. And the still-looking children's eyes, that's a worn picture - but that's why it's no less true. The eyes stay.

And indirectly there are the eyes of the beholder.

I think it's right that the current events around us are also reflected in a haiku and tanka selection.

What fascinates me most about this haiku is that it does something very difficult. Again and again I get a certain feeling in front of the screen.

This feeling of putting “wordlessness” into words - here it worked.

Commented by Ruth Guggenmos-Walter

Early stage. The folds
he takes the pillow with him
in the day

Boris Semrov

A very plastic haiku. The folds of the pillow become his own. And while the former are quickly smoothed out again, he takes the latter "into the day". A very successful haiku on the tiredness of getting up early and its effects on the rest of the day. Coffee doesn't help either. Only a restful night's sleep can make up for this lack of sleep, and it is the pillow that (apparently) is responsible for its wrinkles that will ultimately free it from them.

Saturday nights
alone with you in front of the TV -
a time in the
I started panties
to buy in packs of 3

Tony Bohle

A relationship tanka that is very similar in content and form to that of Tony Böhle - and a very successful one at that. While it is not per se objectionable to spend a Saturday evening in front of the television, the word "alone" indicates the beginning isolation of the lyrical ego, while "alone with you" suggests an emotional contradiction. In addition, it is not a single Saturday evening, but "Saturday evenings" (plural). This behavior has become a ritual. Since watching TV is a very passive activity that is not conducive to communication, these first two lines say a lot about the relationship.

In the last three lines we learn the reaction of the lyrical self to this increasingly unsatisfactory relationship situation: he (or she) started to buy underpants "in packs of 3". This is cheaper, but it becomes obvious that the speaker is no longer trying to look attractive to the other person. In a sense, he renounces his erotic charisma - a kind of erotic defeatism. And that is the real strength of this poem: Without even mentioning the topic of sexuality in one word, the oppressive impression arises that this couple doesn't do much sexually either.

Commented by Frank Dietrich

Discussing what a haiku, or even a good haiku, is can be tiring, but it won't stop. This reflects the specialty of these little language miracles. A haiku as such does not actually exist in the strict sense. A haiku happens when it reaches the viewer and unfolds in him. Seen in this way, haiku is not the text itself, but a communication event that is conveyed through the text. The heading for this section “A haiku that appeals to me in particular” takes up this important aspect.

What particularly appeals to me personally and what I expect from a - in my understanding - good haiku is this revelation of the special in everyday life, which gives me a new insight into relationships that I have never seen before. I am very well aware that this has to do with myself and changes me - a big but correct word.

With this in mind, I would like to highlight the following haiku from the submissions that particularly appealed to me:

Drive to Salzburg
from the train window
Look at noise barriers

Traude Veran

Immediately a tension becomes visible: Salzburg is something special, is worth more than a trip, is a pearl among the cities and a magnet for many tourists. Already when the place name is mentioned, images, ideas and thoughts are awakened and immediately linked to corresponding memories or expectations. This way, the trip to Salzburg becomes an inner event of convergence and attunement. I pause after the first line and insert a dash or a comma while reading, because then I come across something completely different, unexpected: In my inner process of approaching, I suddenly encounter noise barriers when I look out of the train window. Not the fortress, not the cathedral, not the mountains, not the Salzach, not Mozart, but banal noise barriers that restrict the expectant view. How disappointing! As a tourist, I am suddenly barred.

Does that make me impatient, maybe even annoying? It is not said, but it sounds all the more obvious as an unspoken option.

So that's what I have to look at in my approach. My eyes don't just come across unexpected barriers. It is directed back to myself - and this opens up another level of viewing for me. I arrive in a reality of experience that is different than I had imagined from my perspective of expectation. Do I remain in a tourist self-limitation or am I ready to change perspectives in order to get to know and understand Salzburg today from the perspective of its inhabitants?

And finally: What may well remain below the threshold of consciousness on a short trip of this kind becomes all the more urgent on longer trips or even the life trip as a whole.

It is always about perception of how our expectations and our experiences fit together. And it is also about how we view the inevitable tensions between the two. For me, the last word is like an invitation to see haiku happening here.

Commented by Heinz Schneemann

The selection

15 points were achieved

When it fell
the very last leaf
nobody watched

Matthew Stark
13 points

Caféhaus noise
falls off your shoulders
the silence of the snow

Elisabeth Weber Strobel
13 points

The cry of the crow
at the end of the night -
Lost dream

Roland Strauss
13 points

Autumn storm
I open the capsule
a corn poppy blossom

Diana Michel Erne
13 points

There at the garden gate
where we said goodbye
lip-red poppies

Horst Oliver Buchholz
13 points

autumn colors
how colorful
all our plans

Christopher Blumentrath
13 points

repressed questions
grayed with me
the evening sky

Birgit Schaldach Helmlechner
13 points

mild summer night
only the moon and me -
in a shirt of yours

Elisabeth Weber Strobel
13 points

Weather pain
Grandfather knocks three times
to the barometer

Friedrich winemaker
12 points

the koto listen
my eyes looking
after the melody

Brigitte ten Brink
12 points

Moonlight -
our unasked questions
Carry home

Klemens Antusch
12 points

Unknown flower
ich nehme
her fragrance with

Christa Beau
12 points

representations
the desire for an old stitch
to scratch

Gabi Hartman
12 points

winter sun
where the light goes
still blinded me

Gerd Borner
11 points

huge hole
without filling -
coal mine

Joachim Thiede
11 points

fleeting flirt -
like summer rain
on hot asphalt

Brigitte ten Brink
11 points

Early stage.
The folds of the pillow
he takes with him into the day

Boris Semrov
11 points

the last roses -
she is swinging the scarf
over the shoulder

Gisela Farenholtz
11 points

petals
in the summer wind ...
Schmetterlinge

Friedrich winemaker
11 points

Blood moon
the long wait
on a poem

Simone K Busch
11 points

colorful fishing trawlers -
we will anchor this fall
closer to the shore

Eva Limbach
11 points

On fog wings
darkness sticks
on my shoulders.

Beate Conrad
11 points

night watch
the soft ringing
of her teaspoon

Eleanor Nickolay
11 points

Full moon
in the clear sea
spawn the fish

Zorka Cordasevic
11 points

driven off ...
shaken by the storm
he empty nest

Heike Gericke
10 points

Melanosis -
from the potatoes
she peels her eyes

Heike Gericke
10 points

freshly caught
the morning glitters
in the spider's web

Anne Holtz
10 points

on the bridge
calls on both sides
der Bach

Angelica Holweger
10 points

On the San'ya Canal
the weeping willows again
as Buson saw her.

Horst Ludwig
10 points

stormy sea -
crawl into the warmth
a milk dish

Ramona Left
10 points

Opening
the strangeness
of the dress

Martina Heinish
10 points

The winds are blowing
the homeless tears
over the earth.

Hildegard Pranckel
9 points

Persian night
under countless stars
Keep silent

Matthew Stark
9 points

birthday party
in the wind
drives a birch leaf

Helga Stania
9 points

at the edge of the forest
in the autumn sun
my haiku flies

Norbert Kraas
9 points

cosmic rose -
between the temples
the roar of his words

Ramona Left
9 points

Old town
Sunday sounds from the cathedral
through the alleys

Brigitte ten Brink
9 points

thunderstorms Dunst
suddenly alone
in the summit descent

Taiki Haijin
9 points

still broken
his German, yes
in the chant of the dialect

Klaus-Dieter Wirth
8 points

Visit to mother
only goodbye
she recognizes me

Boris Semrov
8 points

cormorants
on the rock
air her priestly robe

Margareta Hihn
8 points

Aleppo -
the eyes of the ruins
and that of the children

Horst Oliver Buchholz
8 points

alone in a crowded street
the passengers
worldwide on the move

Peter Wissmann
8 points

Plain in the wind
A tear
turns away

Claudius Gottstein
8 points

Autumn forest.
His foot faltered
in front of the beechnuts

Gisela Farenholtz
8 points

school enrollment
Tschilpen on this day
the sparrows louder

Helga Stania
8 points

wedding day
caresses his hand
the dog

Eleanor Nickolay
8 points

September wind
En passant your red
Stroke the apple cheeks

Roland Strauss
8 points

the perfect
shaped melons
on the fruit shelf, I look at them
with resentment

Tony Bohle
13 points

Saturday nights
alone with you in front of the TV -
a time in the
I started panties
to buy in packs of 3

Tony Bohle
11 points

In the drizzle
on the bark
now clearly the lichens

she pulls the hood
down even deeper

Taiki Haijin
11 points

Tombstone after tombstone
eternity curved
from gravity
in the evening I follow
home to my shadow

Dietmar Tauchner
11 points

Apartment dissolution
packed in boxes
Memories

The apron on the hook
with pale flowers

Margareta Hihn
10 points

War tremors -
that overtake you
the others
where the tree
bends the way

Gerd Borner
9 points

i - heat sluggish
and gravity bound
the garden lounger
infinitely light above me
a blackbird song

Brigitte ten Brink
8 points