Haiku and Tanka selection September 2011

5 minutes read

Between May and July 2011, a total of 251 haiku and 22 tanka were submitted by 68 authors for this selection. The deadline for entries was July 15, 2011. Each participant could submit up to 5 haiku or tanka.

These works were anonymized by Claudia Brefeld, who also had the overall coordination, before the selection began. The jury consisted of Roswitha Erler, Helmut Hannig and Elisabeth Kleineheismann. The members of the selection group did not submit their own texts.

All selected works (50 haiku and 4 tanka) are listed below alphabetically by author's name - up to max. three works per author.

“A haiku / a tanka that appeals to me in particular” - under this motto, every jury member has the opportunity to choose a work (still anonymized), present it here and comment on it.

Claudia Brefeld

 

A haiku that particularly appeals to me

Selected and commented by Roswitha Erler:

Tango

for three minutes

unfaithful

 

Gerd Borner

The haiku impresses with its brevity and the associations it evokes. Dance muffins may not say anything. But anyone who loves tango and dances themselves will open up the dimensions that these few words reveal. Because tango is a dance full of sensuality.

It originated in Argentina from a kind of folk dance, lives on as such, is constantly changing and thus remains alive. The rhythm is a slow 2/4 or 4/4 time. The partners' music and sense of movement determine step sequences and figures.

I still hear my dance teacher with her command "Wie-ge-step" and how we then hugged each other, 15 or 16 years old, very carefully. It could never be a tango, just a wooden sequence of steps and twists.

In the Tango, the movements of the partner should be more guessed at, felt. This can only be achieved if the two of them fully engage with each other, so to speak indulge.

Today I read something about tango receptors (in the foreign dictionary) for the first time. These are touch-sensitive sensory organs that react to mechanical stimuli. Aha!! Even named after the tango!

The question remains: where does infidelity begin? So with the Tango !? Probably you can't get past it - for three minutes.

By the way, G. Bernhard Shaw put it this way: the tango is the vertical expression of a horizontal desire.

The above haiku says it shorter and most importantly - more discreetly.

Selected and commented by Helmut Hannig:

Morning chill -

the archer cocks

the silence

 

Ramona Left

The situation described here is absolutely breathtaking.

The morning coolness surrounds nature, outlines in it grow shadowily out of the fog, dew pearls tremble on the tops and edges of grasses, everything is penetrated by silence.

You don't dare to breathe, your own thoughts can even be disturbing. The only movement you perceive is breathing, maybe a bird scurries through this picture. That morning coolness, combined with the rising fullness of light creates a tension arc in the coming day.

It is the expectation - a minimal moment for what is to come. The archer

-anonymos, the silence stretches across his tendon to allow it to freeze, so to speak. May it never pass, may it last.

It is precisely this archer who puts his light arrow on the tendon in a restrained adagio, at that moment touches the curve of the horizon to become day. Suddenly she herself comes to an end out of the silence, it is moments of being fulfilled, like stepping out of an imaginary river to go towards the day. And every morning there is the tension for new things to be discovered.

Selected and commented by Elisabeth Kleineheismann:

Raindrops ...

plunge into one

Mandala

 

Helga Stania

I find this haiku very closely observed.

I have been painting mandalas for some time now, mostly on weekends when I have time.

Mandala comes from Sanskrit and means "circle".

On the last Sunday I sit in my studio in rainy weather and I am immersed in my painting, immersed in my mandala.

Haiku comes to mind and everything is different.

I read and see a calm lake, or a puddle. The first raindrop falls ... This is the moment when a mandala is created.

It continues, drop by drop falls, a second, a third mandala is created, the water surface fills, it circles.

Moving.

The selection

His garden hat ...

the trouble of many years

in the scent of straw

 

Christa Beau

Evening shade -

only with the trees

can i cry

 

Gerd Borner

Tango

for three minutes

unfaithful

 

Gerd Borner

house demolition

the walls rumble

Contradictions

 

Simone K Busch

Family breakfast

and the spider at the window

keep spinning her web

 

Simone K Busch

to the home country …

tumbles over the train track

a butterfly

 

Simone K Busch

April.

Nature changes that

Dress code.

 

Michael Denhoff

der Wind

writes hissing verses

to the sea

 

Michael Denhoff

how easy

to carry them across the threshold

in a dream

 

Michael Denhoff

Flower cascades -

in the wind

a new sound

 

Gerda Forester

Shimmering silk

slides from her shoulders

die Nacht

 

Gerda Forester

Clouds

plunged into the blue

the song of the lark

 

Gerda Forester

Summer rain.

Between drops of tumble

a bee.

 

Volker Friebel

Nobel district.

The underground car park opens

for a bike.

 

Volker Friebel

Sky and sea

doesn't want to end

the kiss

 

Hans-Jürgen Goehrung

the old linden tree

the whispering in the branches

at the first kiss

 

Hans-Jürgen Goehrung

from the breast

the gypsum phrodite

a butterfly dissolves

 

Ruth Guggenmos-Walter

Royal wedding

rattle in the women's salon

Scissors and mouth

 

Jochen Hahn-Klimroth

Solstice -

he carries the furniture

to the neighboring house

 

Martina Heinish

On the quay wall

blue-eyed men

spin sailor yarn

 

Margareta Hihn

Sunday

the bells are ringing

the we one

 

Gitta court judge

Storm is coming

two rose petals fall

in Buddha's lap

 

Gitta court judge

Signpost

on a felled tree

Naturefriends house

 

Gitta court judge

A demanding beep

under the canopy

the mortuary

 

Angelica Holweger

Waiting room -

leaning against artificial roses

two crutches

 

Angelica Holweger

Wait away

a piece of heaven on earth

finding

 

Angelica Holweger

Storm

in the red of the alpine roses

hailstones

 

Silvia Kempen

Duck flapping

in my jacket pocket

the dachshund

 

Petra Klingl

pain of parting

the cry of a seagull

penetrates through the night

 

Andrea Knoke

Sheep cold ...

a sheared poodle

trembles.

 

Andrea Knoke

Morning cool ...

The archer cocks

the silence

 

Ramona Left

The blackbird sings

above the roofs of the city

evening prayer

 

Wiebke Oberwinter

dusk

the day hesitates for a long time

to become night

 

Rene Possel

sandy beach

so many hour glasses

time

 

Rene Possel

the sommerreg

the picture in the pond

shatters

 

Rene Possel

dancing dust

in the closet mother's bridal shoes

and their braids

 

Gabrielle Reinhardt

back home

the long shoots

of onions

 

Gabrielle Reinhardt

I also tweet

daily - with the blackbird

in front of my balcony

 

Rita Rosen

afternoon heat

in the treetops

thunderclouds

 

Maren Schoenfeld

Tied to the bed

Through the hose in my arm

Time drips and drips

 

Monica Smollich

Barefoot through the stream

Marvel at fish

the tattoo on my foot

 

Monica Smollich

Raindrops ...

plunge into one

Mandala

 

Helga Stania

Footsteps quietly in the gravel ...

I wipe pollen

from her name

 

Helga Stania

In the railway tunnel

the smiling reflection

the neighbour

 

Kurt F. Svatek

In the wobble of stars

on the elderflower

the bumblebee is now swaying

 

Joachim Uhlmann

My window darkens

What can the cricket know?

I listen again

 

Joachim Uhlmann

The seagull's cry

ebbs away in the noise of the surf -

a couple stands silently.

 

Eckhart Wiedeman

deafening

the amazement

of the clown

 

Klaus-Dieter Wirth

Calm in the park -

a blind man reads

Voices in Braille

 

Klaus-Dieter Wirth

Between the rubble

a child holds his doll.

It survived.

 

Barbara Zeizinger

In the subway

enter silently

look down

a homeless man

talks to himself

 

Jochen Hahn-Klimroth

Childrens Furniture

since marriage and moving out

nothing changed

the doll in her wedding dress

facing the wall

 

Jochen Hahn-Klimroth

Blue hydrangea

interwoven with gilb like

porous paper -

on fading flowers

the day writes initials

 

Maren Schoenfeld

Too small to bathe

seems the crow

the bird bath

But struggles in distress

the beetle for his life

 

Monica Smollich

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