The Haiku and Tanka selection September 2018
A total of 175 haiku from 61 authors and 31 tanka from 19 authors were submitted for this selection. The closing date for entries was July 15, 2018. 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Only previously unpublished texts can be submitted (also applies to publications in blogs, forums, social media and workshops etc.). No simultaneous submissions please!
Please preferably enter the haiku / tanka yourself in the online form on the DHG website:
deutschehaikugesellschaft.de/haiku-und-tanka-die-wahl/
Otherwise by email to: Wahlen@deutschehaikugesellschaft.de
The next submission deadline for the Haiku / Tanka selection is October 15, 2018.
Each participant can submit up to five texts - three of which are haiku.
With the submission, the author gives his consent for a possible publication on http: /www.zugetextet.com/.
Haiku selection from HTA
The jury consisted of Sylvia Bacher, Rainer Randig and Angelica Seithe. The members of the selection group did not submit their own texts.
All selected 36 haiku are published in alphabetical order of the author's names. Up to max. added two haiku per author.
"A haiku that particularly appeals to me" - this is the motto for each jury member to select up to three texts (still anonymized), to present and comment on them here.
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.
Eleanor Nickolay
A haiku that particularly appeals to me
contrails
who will my obituary
write?
Gabriele Hartman
A senryû it is, personally and without seasonality, but with tension due to the clear break and with an open outcome.
Contrails occur regardless of the weather in the cold, especially at high altitudes and humidity. The higher this is, the longer they remain and are visible to us. The unobstructed view is not dependent on the seasons, but depending on the weather.
The author and questioner (I am so emancipated that I take the male form for both genders) has reached an age when losses increase, including my own physical complaints and the associated depressive mood.
Then the question arises, what will remain of me when I am no longer, of my life, my work, of me as a person. How long will the memory last? Who do I care so much about writing my obituary?
I like the association with the clear sky, where something remains visible over a long period of time, even though the cause is no longer there. An impressively long reverberation ...
Selected and commented by Sylvia Bacher
the sharp nose
the cloud in the sky
pulls long and longer
Ingrid Toebermann
Yes, these clouds! Apparently immaterial, barely palpable, yet noticeable, flowing, enveloping, they can even take a look. On the other hand, they can be viewed from the outside. True chameleons of shape, there are no two with the same shape. Independent liveliness is pretended to be variable in becoming and decaying. They are also involved in the active forces of the world. Fascinating when they move isolated, floating and changing. Crazy clouds! Our one down here can almost only make references to them by interpreting similarities in form.
So look up there, a head with Pinocchionase! Strange - that doesn't apply to me, does it? What was I thinking? Now the nose extends further! Truly, not a look into nothing - but at a menekel!
Hardly relieving when the stretched cloud slowly dissolves. Pinocchio is mine! I do not say more. Only so much: Imagination also has its causes ...
Selected and commented by Rainer Randig
thunderstorms sultriness
our words undress
Anne Holtz
The haiku initially confronts a natural mood that we know. It is usually problematic, usually difficult to endure. It makes you irritable or sluggish. Something is charged in the atmosphere, urging for discharge. At the same time, it is warm, the need to rid yourself of unnecessary clothes is overwhelming.
We learn on the second line that the author is not alone. He shares the sultry with at least one person. The Entclothing gets a special meaning due to the possible togetherness. Something intimate sounds.
But wait, it's the words that undress here: "our words".
I like the metaphorical condensation. And I like the originality of this phrase. But what does it mean when words undress? What is indicated in this picture?
As is well known, sultry can also refer to an inner process, to an inner tension between (two) people, to discomfort or tightness. This is the second level of haiku. It is about (linguistic) conventions, inhibitions that are released as a result of the stormy sweltering, dropped like clothes. It remains open whether the undressing of the words follows an aggressively explosive impulse, in which irritation and anger emerge unmasked - or whether it is about restrained passion, where words throw off their disguise and love reveals itself undisguised. The haiku leaves it open. That makes the two-liner mysterious.
Speaking of two lines: could the haiku also have three lines? It seems to me that the three-line spelling weakens some of the force of its effect.
The haiku therefore has everything that a good haiku should have: the immediacy of experiencing at the moment, the sensual and the openness with which the recipient's imagination can freely develop. In addition, it is anchored in a season. But what particularly appealed to me is the originality of this poetic idea, and the two are artfully - and at the same time simple - interwoven levels of meaning. It is also important that the picture is correct on both levels, on the outer, arrested in nature, where clothes are thrown off because it is muggy and warm, and on the inner, communicative level, where words come from cover because of an inner one Tension has become too great. By short-circuiting these two levels, the haiku achieves a special compression. It is surprising.
In just a few words (before the thunderstorm) a real blast is achieved!
Selected and commented by Angelica Seithe
old fire -
she blows into the
last embers
Taiki Haijin
First a picture. We see a fireplace - campfire or fireplace. The fire has been burning for a while. It's old". We see a female person blowing into the "last glow" of this almost extinguished fire.
An understanding of its symbolism arises in us almost simultaneously with the fire. The "old fire", symbol of a past passion, an old love perhaps - but which has not yet completely died out. There is still some embers left. And by blowing it in, the woman tries to rekindle the old relationship or her feelings.
Questions arise that concern us: When and how does a fire run out, which means that a partnership gets less food? How can we keep them alive? Or do you have to accept the end of love as natural? Does it make sense to blow into the fire?
At the same time, the haiku could also refer to an inner fire of the protagonist herself, to her energy, her ability to love, her ability to feel sensually passionate - for a person or a loved activity. It is an "old fire", but it still has that "last ember", it still has the potential to catch fire, come to life and, if the assault is allowed, ... write a wonderfully stimulating haiku.
Selected and commented by Angelica Seithe
The selection
Café Gourmand ...
the sparrow leaves the table
without crumbs
Valeria Barouch
Lime blossom fragrance
he attracts
yes for the chemo
Martin Berner
the narrow path in the bog
here and there -
silver bowls
Gerd Borner
this day at the sea -
I write in my notebook
not a word
Gerd Borner
glowing day
only the shadows
hike
Horst Oliver Buchholz
Rainydays.
The cat jumps
after the housefly.
Reinhard Dellbrugge
Gipfelkreuz
I stand
on a cloud
Frank Dietrich
spring meadow
in every drop of dew
another world
Frank Dietrich
spring meadow
in every drop of dew
another world
Frank Dietrich
stormy evening
next to the source
a salamander
Bernadette Duncan
evening sun
Our shadows are coming
getting closer
Hans-Jürgen Goehrung
evening sun
Our shadows are coming
getting closer
Hans-Jürgen Goehrung
Foreign smells
the sea floods the evening
with a noise
Hans-Jürgen Goehrung
old fire -
she blows into the
last embers
Taiki Haijin
old fire -
she blows into the
last embers
Taiki Haijin
Under the linden tree
a silent contemporary witness -
the old wooden bench
Erika Hanning
felled willow -
drive again
in the rapeseed sea
Claus Hansson
the birch whispers
over cotton grass
shimmer dragonflies
Claus Hansson
contrails
who will my obituary
write
Gabriele Hartman
tomorrow silent
ebbs away in the noise of the big city
waiting for the tide
Kerstin Hirsch
thunderstorms sultriness
our words undress
Anne Holtz
with a wish
the coin tumbles
on the bottom of the fountain
Anne Holtz
Amelanchier
the birds share their fruits
mit mir
Angelica Holweger
cemetery Bank
Stories of the deceased
come alive
Gerard Krebs
Under the waves
the deep sigh
the silent one
Matteo dear
tide
the silence
when he guts the fish
Eva Limbach
hospice visit
and the blackbird sings and sings
Ramona Left
there was a lot to tell
seated angler
silent like fish
Wolfgang Roedig
dawn hour
to sink without fear
before blushing
Birgit Schaldach Helmlechner
The world becomes emptier
and my steps shorter
how long the way ...
Hildegund Sell
a bird song
throws me the morning
forest shadows
Helga Stania
lark songs of my thoughts lightness
Helga Stania
arm-in-arm
Count mouse steps
with grandma Erna
Angela Hilde Timm
At the sight of the
Leash jumps in my hand
he like a bouncy ball
Angela Hilde Timm
below and above
our hangover and the sparrow
above and below
Erika Uhlmann
moths
panicked in curtain folds
the clock is ticking
Traude Veran
Farewell
her mascara
goes on trips
Friedrich winemaker
Empty …
my trash
full of haiku
Friedrich winemaker
seeing hands
the anatomical smile
the masseuse
Klaus-Dieter Wirth
HTA tanka selection
Tony Böhle and Silvia Kempen selected four tanka.
"A tanka that appeals to me particularly" - texts are presented and commented on under this motto.
A tanka that particularly appeals to me
this sweat-soaked
Back-and-forth rolling
night for night
the fight of the snakes
in my head
Frank Dietrich
Every third person in Germany sleeps poorly, suffers from lack of sleep or a sleep disorder. Who doesn't know this restless rolling back and forth when worries, problems, fear or restless daily routines rob sleep or express themselves in dreams.
The snake is one of the oldest primordial symbols of humanity and has complex meanings that can be positive or negative. Here are a few examples: In Greek mythology, snakes were seen as beings of healing. The molting is seen as a symbol for the renewal of life. On the other hand, there is the serpent as we know it from the story of creation: it embodies evil, betrayal and falseness.
In this tanka, the lyrical ego rolls back and forth bathed in sweat, which does not exactly speak for positive dreams. And that "night after night". Recurring dreams often point to old behavior patterns that do not let go of the respective person and which are very often coupled with negative experiences. This usually lasts until the experience is deliberately processed.
The reference to this "experience" is "the fight of the snakes".
Selected and commented by Silvia Kempen
The selection
Grandmother's photo
blink in the candlelight
Your eyes
like at Christmas time
when I got the doll
Christa Beau
this sweat-soaked
Back-and-forth rolling
night for night
the fight of the snakes
in my head
Frank Dietrich
only my best
wanted mother and left behind
along with good advice to me
family jewelry - both
I will probably rework
Gabriele Hartman
the good vinyl
turns the time back so beautiful
crackling tension
even on some scratches
hangs a memory
Wolfgang Roedig
