From March to July 2014, a total of 242 haiku and 16 tanka were submitted by 62 authors for this selection. The deadline for entries was July 15, 2014. Each participant could send in up to 5 haiku or tanka.

These works were anonymized by Petra Klingl, who also had the overall coordination, before the selection began. Silvia Kempen gave her advice. The jury consisted of Sylvia Bacher, Tony Böhle and Walter Mathois. The members of the selection group did not submit their own texts.

All selected works (46 haiku and 1 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.

The next deadline for the Haiku / Tanka selection

is October 15th, 2014.

Only previously unpublished works can be submitted. No simultaneous submissions. Please send the submissions in the mail body, no attached files.

Since the jury is made up of changing participants, I would like to cordially invite all interested DHG members to participate as a jury member in upcoming selection rounds.

Petra Klingl

A haiku that particularly appeals to me

Gentle morning breeze
the dandelion sends its
Airborne troops

Friedrich winemaker

Since the haiku has established itself as an independent lyrical form, nature in all its facets has remained its main subject. Even if such a reference often no longer exists in modern haiku, many still regard haiku as a poem of nature. So it seems a bit strange at first glance that a rather conservative 5-7-5-shaped haiku about dandelions, which has been the subject of a haiku numerous times, still receives special attention here.
What makes this haiku special is not the observation of dandelion seeds that fly in the morning wind, which look like small parachutes, but the choice of words with which this scene is described and the special perspective that opens it up to us. Our prevailing view of nature with its blooming meadows is rather romantic. This is all too understandable, since nature, apart from a few rare natural disasters, is no longer a threat to us, but a place to relax.
However, this is questioned by the haiku above. Above all, the term "airborne troops" puts the flying parachutes of the dandelion in a military, you could even say warlike light. For us, the image of nature may have changed, but not its character. In the animal and plant kingdom there is still a tough struggle for survival and in the idyllic meadow there is the right of the fittest and a lively eating and eating. The dandelion, seen by many as weeds and fought in the well-tended garden, starts to counterattack here and tries to conquer its habitat. The opening of the haiku with a report on the weather situation (light morning wind) and the subsequent operation (sends its airborne troops) gives the reader the impression of a well-planned military offensive, in which only the right weather was waiting to be launched. The text is also linguistically attractive due to the use of the L-sounds in "light", "dandelions" and "airborne troops", which leave the feeling of the morning breeze addressed on the skin.
In view of the current armed conflict in eastern Ukraine, this haiku invites you to think.

The way home
A piece of heaven and hell
under your shoes

Hans-Jürgen Goehrung

Each of us has probably experienced a drastic change in life. Especially in our modern world, in which we have more and more options for individual life planning, it is often difficult decisions that want to be made and the effects of which can plunge us into a real emotional bath.
The scene sketched here can be quickly described: a person runs - probably lost in thought - on the way home over a hopscotch game by children. Chalk of the two fields remains on the soles of the shoes. The present haiku leaves the external factors completely in the dark - we learn nothing more about the person who is coming home here or where she comes from. Only attempts at interpretation from the context are possible.
There may be someone here on the way home from an interview to a new, coveted job that requires moving and leaving friends and families behind. Perhaps we will also witness the late night homeward journey from an affair that shows not only a feeling of happiness but also a bad conscience towards the partner.
The "piece of heaven and hell under your shoes" is also an outline of the ambivalent emotional world; no whole heaven, no absolute hell but a piece of both. At the same time, simply crossing the hopping game is a very strong image for me that I have left the days of childhood behind. However, the decision-making process is not the cause of the internal turmoil here, as this already seems to have been made. The “way home” does not only name the geographical destination of the home march. If you like, it also stands for the return to the previous life that causes “heaven and hell” here.
A piece of advice that you often get for writing haiku is to stay as specific as possible. Here this custom is overturned by the silence of the external circumstances of the scene described; and that is exactly one of the strengths of the text. By not focusing on the outside, but on the inner world, the author succeeds in emphasizing the feeling of inner conflict between two strong poles.
Selected and commented by Tony Böhle

clothes dryer
Hunt in the summer wind
on apron

Ruth Wellbrock

Dreamy evening in the garden. The apron flutters in the summer wind. The clothesline trembles in the wind. She will never catch the apron. An endless struggle between what is anchored in the ground (earth-related) and the fickle. always dirty, washed, dry. ...

Surprise Fund.
An artificial Christmas tree
sniffs summer air.

Wolfgang Roedig

Who has never experienced it? Tinsel flaps out of the dumpster, the tip of a disused Christmas tree. The Christmas festival is long over. The plastic something sticks out of the container along with all sorts of "summer waste" ...

deep forest
the doll dress
faded

Claudia Brefeld

Very mysterious. How did the doll's dress get into the forest? Did a wandering child - sometime many years ago - lose it ... or ... even a crime. Quite simply in the most harmless case: pollution.

Sunday afternoon -
a violin and a piano
wage war

Frank Dietrich

The stroller moves through the settlement. There Vivaldi, there a playful ragtime piece ... the battle of the times .. and yet ... Peace for joy on Sunday.

after the disaster
on the pavement
a stick figure

Elisabeth Weber-Strobel

Was it just a chalk drawing of children playing, or was it just an accident, the sketches of the traffic police? Or is there even talk of another misfortune?
Selected and commented by Walter Mathois

Frankly, it is not the most poetic haiku that I have chosen as particularly appealing, not the ones that I like the most, but that raise the most questions for me:

Antiquarian bookshop -
a bundle of love letters
open to all

Eckhart Wiedeman

Even if I would have liked to have exchanged the second and third lines of this haiku, it is quite obvious that the word open, so that everyone can see it, sounds almost like a reproach. This is remarkable in that people's private lives are public in many ways these days, think of the various internet platforms, the numerous autobiographies, etc., so that one might think that hardly anyone is bothered by them anymore.
But why did the antiquarian keep these letters, where there is apparently nothing to earn, because if they were from famous people, they would have been sold. Certainly not out of voyeurism, perhaps out of negligence or out of respect for the people behind it, in the hope that the bundle will fall into the hands of a collector who also appreciates it.
Where do the letters come from? Presumably from an estate: If there are no relatives or only relatives who are not interested, the entire estate ends up unsighted at clearers, i.e. second-hand or art dealers, antiquarians. Now the personal in these letters may be of no interest to strangers, especially if the letter partners were not located in the place where the antiquarian bookshop is located. But it would be different if the writer or the addressee were known to the inhabitants of the town or city. It is not clear from the haiku whether the person concerned has died old or young, so one does not know whether the letter partner is still alive. Knowing a relationship could not only be embarrassing for him, but in the worst case scenario could lead to a human catastrophe.
Questions over questions that I can understand because I have been trading antiquarian books for decades and I enjoy it every time I discover a dedication that reveals a piece of the person who owned the book. A little bit of life ...

Sunday afternoon -
a violin and a piano
wage war

Frank Dietrich

Here, the experience is not so mysterious, but some questions arise here too:
Making music on Sunday afternoons can in itself be a provocation, especially if the volume is not adjusted to the day of rest, and is apt to kindle war desires not only among the musicians, but also among the suffering neighbors.
Now it would also be interesting to know whether it is playing the violin and piano in two different apartments, with the window open, the acoustics possibly enhanced by the staircase or an inner courtyard, or even in two different houses - in both cases different pieces of music Nightmare!
Or is it family house music, this is probably dealing with the same piece of music, assuming that it is children, school children who practice, when, if not at the weekend and where else, if not in their own apartment? Here, however, there is justified hope that with the right stamina, they will eventually pull together and the game will become harmonious, which, until it is time, will require the neighbors to be patient with all their agony.
Perhaps, however, clarifying conversations regarding volume and practice times can make the time to enjoyment more bearable ...
Two haiku that not only meet the formal requirements, for me also two haiku with sustainability!
Selected and commented by Sylvia Bacher

The selection

Schafskälte
In a wool sweater
to the herd on the dike

Pure Bonack

dream tunnel
in the end his smile
unilaterally

Gerd Borner

Laundry garden -
two shadows
Kicherer

Claudia Brefeld

vigil
the warmth in your hands
the other

Claudia Brefeld

deep forest
the doll dress
faded

Claudia Brefeld

dike hike
lust slumbers in me
for more and more

Ralf Broker

Long-haul flight
I wait abroad
auf mich

Simone K Busch

cold fingertips
in the morning on a train
the wars of the world

Simone K Busch

Dog days -
the heat bites
on the ice cubes

Cezar-Florin Ciobîcă

Sunday afternoon -
a violin and a piano
wage war

Frank Dietrich

the first argument -
after the thunderstorm
calm

Frank Dietrich

White breath.
A runner quickly between
changing foliage.

Volker Friebel

The rails end
in wild flowers.
We look at each other.

Volker Friebel

Released from autumn
the colors of the foliage. My breath -
White.

Volker Friebel

Origami
the soldier folds
his uniform

Heike Gericke

thunder
from childhood
Father's voice

Hans-Jürgen Goehrung

Nightingale.
I silently ask you
may she stay.

Hans-Jürgen Goehrung

Stille
On both sides of the storm
Stille

Claudius Gottstein

Hiking break
On the old map
Smooth out mountains

Claudius Gottstein

the pen is dropped
between writing and silence
the last drawing

Bernhard Haupteltshofer

on the facade
Hearts and slogans
the warmth of your skin

Gabriele Hartman

Stone houses
I'm good too
for tourist photos

Gabriele Hartman

graze
the night shrouds
in silence

Birgit Heid

Waiting for ashes,
Bones. Speechless the
Endured May Day.

saskia ishikawa-franc

Towns
Sunlight drips
from the leaves

Gerard cancer

Garden idyll
at Snow White
a dwarf is missing

Gerard cancer

Christ the Savior Church
after the Lord's Prayer
her look at the iPhone

Gerard cancer

cloudless night
our whispers are sown
Bank shrubs

Ramona Left

Surprise Fund.
An artificial Christmas tree
sniffs summer air.

Wolfgang Roedig

morning silent the way
i share the time
with a snail

Birgit Schaldach Helmlechner

summer rain
no hurry under the umbrella
with you

Boris Semrov

Hail in April
the mannequin
shivers in hot pants

Monica Smollich

Summertime - blues
a fan whirls
humid air

Brigitte ten Brink

Cleanup -
the shards of controversy
sweep up

Brigitte ten Brink

late night
visit my dead wife
in her dream house

Dietmar Tauchner

Cloud world
where we come from
where we are going

Dietmar Tauchner

autumn evening
Mother's lifeline filled
with garden soil

Elisabeth Weber Strobel

Apartment Search
on the walls
a different life

Elisabeth Weber Strobel

after the disaster
on the pavement
a stick figure

Elisabeth Weber Strobel

Proud crane train
In a big triangle across the moor
Drawn screams

Ruth Wellbrock

clothes dryer
Hunt in the summer wind
on apron

Ruth Wellbrock

Silent winter forest -
the jay's cry
shakes snow from the branch.

Eckhart Wiedeman

Gentle morning breeze
the dandelion sends its
Airborne troops

Friedrich winemaker

Every morning
in the dream severity
the freight train

Friedrich winemaker

A snail
silvered leisurely
the rusty track

Friedrich winemaker

Blue lights in front of the house
who kicks neighbors
the last journey

Peter Wissmann

The last glass
Quittengelee
she packs him up ...
Someone wrote about cranes,
who change their flight route.

Ramona Left