A total of 237 haiku by 82 authors and 60 tanka by 26 authors were submitted for this selection. The deadline for entries was January 15, 2023. I anonymized these texts before the selection began.
Each member of the DHG has the option of naming a submission that should be published on the member's own page if the jury disregards it.
Only previously unpublished texts can be submitted (also applies to publications in blogs, forums, including the forums on HALLO HAIKU, social media and workshops, etc.).
No simultaneous submissions please!
Please Haiku / Tanka necessarily collected in one process Enter yourself in the online form on the DHG website HI HAIKU:
Otherwise by e-mail to: wahlen@sommergras.de
The next deadline for the Haiku / Tanka selection is the April 15, 2023.
Each participant can take up to six Texts - three Haiku and three Tanka - submit.
With the submission, the author gives the consent for a possible publication in the agenda of the DHG and on http://www.zugetextet.com/ as well as for a possible presentation on the website of the Haiku International Association.
Haiku selection from HTA
The jury consisted of Dagmar Westphal, Hildegard Dohrendorf and Sebastian Salie. The members of the selection group did not submit their own texts.
All selected texts - 25 haiku by 21 authors - are published in alphabetical order of the authors' names. A maximum of two haiku per author will be recorded.
"A haiku that particularly appeals to me" - under this motto, each jury member has the opportunity to choose up to three texts (still anonymous), present them here and comment on them. This time 2 texts were chosen.
Since the jury is to be made up of changing participants, I would like to take this opportunity to cordially invite all interested DHG members to participate as jury members in upcoming selection rounds.
Peter Rudolf
A haiku that particularly appeals to me
tangerine scent
and cracking nuts
in the air raid shelterEva Beilich
The first two lines begin romantically and contemplatively: When the nuts ripen and the first tangerines come onto the market, they tell us the time of year the haiku tells us about: We are in late autumn at the end of November or beginning of December.
We are only granted a brief respite as a caesura between the second and third lines, before the word “air raid shelter” unexpectedly slams into the stillness of the scenery with full force.
Not a sound between the bombing raids, just the cracking of nuts and the smell of tangerines in the close quarters. It is not said who or how many people are in the bunker - and yet we see them in front of us: huddled together and their heads bowed. And one gives out tangerines and nuts. It's Advent - and a touch of hope is spreading in the middle of the war. It appeals to all my senses, this haiku in the classic syllable order 5-7-5.
It is timeless and, unfortunately, also up-to-date.
Selected and commented by Dagmar Westphal
Outside the snowstorm –
motionless at the window
the black cat.Yann Brunotte
At first glance, I perceive this text as a wintry game of opposites: outside the hostile, cold storm, but in motion – inside, the lively, warm cat, but standing still; plus the scenery in black and white or white and black. As tidy and picturesque as the picture may appear at first glance, it is just as mysterious and inspiring on closer inspection.
After all, all sorts of superstitions are associated with black cats. For centuries such animals were shunned, if not persecuted and killed, in large parts of Christian Europe as "devil creatures", and the idea that a black cat brings bad luck persists to this day. In some places, such as Japan or England, they are considered lucky charms, especially for women. According to an English proverb, there is no shortage of suitors if the domestic cat is black. In the present haiku, too, the coloring of the animal seems to be important, as it is expressly mentioned. A reference to an irrational sphere at least resonates and opens the text - appropriate to the season described - for mystical readings.
Whether one likes to follow such reasoning or not, it certainly begs the question whether the cat is happy to be safe given the weather conditions - we assume the text means that it is in the house and not outside, which would otherwise give the haiku a far less appealing character - or whether she rather silently regrets the impossibility of the mouse hunt and stoically awaits this phase. The answer will probably remain her secret, because who can look inside a cat's head? But the question is worth asking, also to myself: How do I deal with situations that restrict my freedom of action and which I cannot change? In this respect, the image shown in the haiku is good for me as a stimulus for thought and as a resilience booster for stormy times - and the black cat thus turns out to be more of a lucky charm than a demonic figure.
Selected and commented by Sebastian Salie
The selection
eyes like suns
The scent of flowers fills my heart
A touch of springDaniel Behrens
holey carpet
from rotten autumn leaves
memory lapsesEva Beilich
tangerine scent
and cracking nuts
in the air raid shelterEva Beilich
Christian Christmas
in our living room
the stable smellHeiner Brueckner
Outside the snowstorm –
motionless at the window
the black cat.Yann Brunotte
on the way in
the clinic – Father asks me
to turnMichael Deisenrieder
New Year's Day
when opening the door
a torrent of old leavesPetra Fischer
The night icy and clear
only your silence
is colderDieter Gebell
drizzle
in the mailbox
dry wordsMatthew Gysel
physical therapy centre
the voice of the robin
from tapeMichaela Kiock
the train departs
her smile in the train window
stays foreverGerard Krebs
Christmas balls
the glow in the eyes
the three year oldGerard Krebs
In the sickroom
the little girl fans
the doll air.Moritz Wulf Lange
the bomb crater
deep in the forest
blooming wood anemonesEva Limbach
crescent moon
the long wait
to his answerEleanor Nickolay
winter way
hand in hand
our warmthEleanor Nickolay
solitary
the fly at the window
makes her roundsLudmila Pettke
house clearance
the woman in the hall is wearing the perfume
my neighborKamil Plich
unfamiliar city
the homeless man
wishes a Merry ChristmasEvelyn Schmidt
in the bare pear tree
the cat and the crow
Face to FaceHelga Schulz Blank
at the class reunion
the first love
apple blossom scentMarie Luise Schulze Frenking
midsummer night
The brief silence between
frogs and birdsMonica Seidel
Departure –
the gutter yellow
of pollenAngelica Seithe
flea market
a trader dawdles
the timeFriedrich winemaker
morning breeze
a spider swings
in the dayFriedrich winemaker
HTA tanka selection
Silvia Kempen and Martin Thomas chose 9 Tanka from 7 authors. The selected texts are published in alphabetical order of the authors' names. A maximum of two tanka per author will be recorded.
"A tanka that particularly appeals to me" - under this motto, the two jury members have the opportunity to choose up to three texts (still anonymous), present them here and comment on them. This time a text was selected.
A tanka that particularly appeals to me
from many summers
the wood releases the heat
in the fiery furnace
in a few minutes
turns to ashes year after yearMarie Luise Schulze Frenking
Who doesn't know it, the cozy warmth of a fireplace or furnace in winter? Defying the bitter cold, you look hypnotized into the blazing flames and forget time and space. The air is filled with the smell of burning wood, movement only comes into play when logs have to be refilled. There are no words, so your thoughts are getting further and further away from the here and now. In the state of transcendence, the boundaries to reality finally become blurred and one immerses oneself in the primal consciousness of the eternal cycle of life.
This tanka describes that state of transcendence and the feelings and thoughts associated with it in an objective and factual manner. Not a word too much, not a word too little, it lives in particular through its motivic (summer - warmth - wood - fire - ashes) and temporal (many summers - a few minutes - year after year) linked chains of associations, which reveal it to be stylistically well thought-out. The image of the tree that has grown over many years and which crumbles to ashes within a few moments serves as a metaphor for the transience of all being.
It is quite possible that some readers will find the poem overloaded. In my opinion, the generated linguistic heaviness underlines the existing depth of content to an appealing degree. Especially since, on closer inspection, the poem by no means just proclaims a melancholic fatalism, but on the contrary emphasizes the need for transition. Without the death of one, the life of the other would be unthinkable. In other words: All living beings - whether plant, animal or human - are in an eternal, interdependent cycle that extends from birth through adolescence to death.
In the end one could read a certain gratitude - or at least the call for gratitude - from the text. A gratitude that many of us - and I explicitly include myself here - have lost in view of the excessive consumption of resources of all kinds. One would do well, like the author of this poem, to pause and think about what is being burned in the oven, what is on the plate in front of you, and what role you play in it cycle plays or wants to take.
Selected and commented by Martin Thomas
Heimkehr
after a night of drinking
meets me
the reproachful look
my dogFriedrich winemaker
As an introduction to this tanka, the information: "Coming home / after a night of drinking". Then the central element "meets me / the reproachful look". If you think about whose gaze that could be, you would assume it would be the life partner. Will there be a fight now? Does the house blessing then go wrong?
The resolution is surprising, it's the dog. Man's best friend. It's widely believed that humans interpret the way dogs look, but there's a study of the facial muscles of dogs and wolves that suggests otherwise. It has been found that only dogs possess a special muscle that raises the brow. As a result, the eyes appear larger, more childlike, and the expression of sadness is possible.
Anyone who knows dog looks knows how lasting they can be. Those returning home will not easily forget this look and may not stay away for so long next time.
Selected and commented by Silvia Kempen
The selection
the pine and her gardener
time has both
made crooked
their shadows, branched
like from a tribeStefanie Bucifal
I pack
my time capsule...
with red wine
the white album
and isGabriele Hartman
now that you are here
I lack the memory
of what could have been
it would all be just a dream
remainedGabriele Hartman
in front of the Ostbahnhof
free bible course –
four young women
working on mine
orientationBernhard Haupteltshofer
charming and articulate
behind the lectern...
the colleague says
he never speaks
with womenBirgit Heid
from many summers
the wood releases the heat
in the fiery furnace
in a few minutes
turns to ashes year after yearMarie Luise Schulze Frenking
the day clears its throat
and knocks on window panes
from its caves
crawls – still a bit sleepy –
the city lifeBrigitte ten Brink
a happy couple
at the wedding waltz
for a moment
I become a dream dancer
in the wheelchairFriedrich winemaker
Heimkehr
after a night of drinking
meets me
the reproachful look
my dogFriedrich winemaker
Special contribution by René Possél
René Possél chose a haiku from all anonymized submissions that particularly appeals to him.
flea market
a trader dawdles
the timeFriedrich winemaker
At first glance, this appears to be a haiku that thrives on playing with the word family “trödel – dawdle”. Even the setting with "flea market" in the first line directs the thoughts in the direction of "junk". A flea market is used to sell old, worn-out, useless things - just junk. The second line reinforces this with the predicate "wasting away", that is, spending time wasted, wasting it. It is somehow obvious that a trader with "junk" is "dadling", and superficially makes up the pun and the smirk value of the haiku.
In fact, the haiku also strikes me as a remarkable commentary on the subject of "time," the last word in the third line. Selling disused and “useless things that have fallen out of time” at flea markets is a statement on the subject of “time” anyway. The "junk" makes the transience and obsolescence of things in time and thus the dialectic of time visible: What was modern and "up to date" yesterday is passé today, outdated.
“The faster (but) the newest becomes old, the faster
Obsolescence itself also becomes obsolete, and the old can be all the faster
become cutting edge again.”
(Odo Marquardt)
Anyone who has recognized the dialectic of things in time and acts with it can make the dialectic clear in their own behavior by “dallying” or dealing with time in a relaxed manner. A philosophical haiku.
