|  Cover  |  Contents  |  Highlights  |  Editorial Corner  |  Masthead  |  History  |  Submissions  | 

BookMart  | e-Cards  |  Search  |

RETURN TO CURRENT ISSUE

Back  |  Next  |


  WHC R. H. Blyth Award 2002

 

Judge Cor van den Heuvel (US)
10 Selections

Three Top Choices


First Choice:

202

returning geese --
dawn rises over the rim
of my coffee cup

kirsty karkow
Maine, United States

Geese returning (or leaving) is a common subject in haiku, and there have been many variations on this theme in both traditional Japanese haiku and modern haiku in different languages around the world. So, to see a new haiku that presents that theme with such an original and startling image is a special delight. The poet has apparently been stopped in the act of raising his or her cup by the sight and/or sound of the returning geese. The suspended cup forms a horizon line for the poet out of which dawn appears and outlines the figures of the geese flying across the sky.

One of the special pleasures of this poem is that the poet does not tell us that what he or she was doing was interrupted by the geese; rather it is suggested to us by the striking image of the sun beginning to rise out of, or just beyond, the coffee cup. From the immediacy of that sensory experience, we move through the moment to the realization that the seasonal return of the geese is related to the daily routine of the poet, represented by the morning coffee. The haiku moment's embodiment of a oneness of human nature with Nature is carried off with both art and subtlety.


Second Choice:

346

cold winter wind . . .
the ducks appear and disappear
in the dark waves

Bruce Ross
Alberta, Canada

This haiku reminds me of the famous haiku by Basho, "darkening sea/ voices of the wild ducks/ are faintly white." The obvious allusion is almost certainly an homage to the master. Though reminiscent of the older poem, it is in no sense an imitation. Basho's haiku uses synesthesia to mix or blend the senses of hearing and sight: the audible is described by a visual attribute. It suggests not only that the cries of the birds have a sound that seems white, but that the birds plumage is actually white, or partly so.

The new haiku is much simpler than the Basho -- even plain. It is so plain that at first glance it may seem bland or even banal. Yet, it is not. The interaction between the "cold winter wind" and the "dark waves" is masterly represented by the appearances and disappearances of the ducks. We get a vivid picture of the winter sea in rough weather. This haiku is boldly cinematic in its depiction of the action that is taking place. The coldness and fierceness of the wind are made vividly present for us as we look for the ducks to reappear from behind or between the wildly tossing waves.

This haiku, too, has a sound track: we hear the sounds of the wind and the waves. But the highlights are visual. I see the ducks as partly white like those in Basho's haiku. So we can easily catch sight of them, even from a distance, among the dark waves. To me, an American from the northeast state of Maine, they look like mergansers, or perhaps a group of oldsquaws. -Cor van den Heuvel


Third Choice:

127

spring morning . . .
the position of the chairs
from last night's meeting

Michael Fessler
Kanagawa-ken, Japan

The ordinary objects that surround us can take on a new significance in haiku. Here, there is a strange mystery created by the sight of a group of chairs -- perhaps common, straight-back wood chairs. The past in the shape of the night before is somehow present the next morning in the way that the chairs are still positioned as they were when everyone left. No one has come in to straighten out the room and put the chairs in order. The poem could be about any kind of meeting, but since it is in a haiku, I see the meeting as part of an extended conference for haiku poets, such as a Haiku North America gathering -- or perhaps one sponsored by the World Haiku Club.

The meeting had probably been one of conviviality and good feelings, conducted in the pursuance of literary excellence, if not perfection. Despite the inevitability of disagreements, the sharing of a common goal would, hopefully, make even these into constructive developments for growth in both thought and performance. In any case, whatever the outcome of the meeting -- and the revelry or pleasant dinner that may have followed -- it, and the people who took part in it, is again present to the poet/observer with the sight of the chairs, still casually positioned around the conference table. Combined with the "spring morning," this image of a moment containing both past and present represents the hopes and aspirations of the conference attendees to fashion new paths for their chosen artistic or literary endeavors. Paths in tune with nature and the seasons.


Fourth Choice:

328

twilight . . .
a boy brings down
his kite

K. Ramesh
Chennai, India

Fifth Choice:

83

empty cabin --
the old sweater
hangs on a nail

DeVar Dahl
Alberta, Canada

Sixth Choice:

14

cold morning -
a petal has landed by
the morning coffee

Dimitar Argakijev
Skopje, Macedonia

Seventh Choice:

320

paper carps
their mouths wide open
gulping the wind

Daniel Py
Paris, France

Eighth Choice:

85

paper cut --
the origami bird
flaps its wings

DeVar Dahl
Alberta, Canada

Ninth Choice:

304

cirrus clouds
the climber's rope
rubs the cliff

W.F. Owen
C
alifornia, United States

Tenth Choice:

31

Last lap-
a falling leaf
stops me

Mario Belaval
San Juan, Puerto Rico


Next read Judge Nobuyuki Yuasa's Selections

Read more about the WHF2002 Akita

2002 Speakers

See the WHC Website for Details & Application Form

 



Back  |  Next |

 |  Cover  |  Contents  |  Highlights  |  Editorial Corner  |   Masthead  |  History  |  Submissions  | 

BookMart  | e-Cards  |  Search  |