ROUND ONE

1.
down the middle of
the swollen, flowing river
an uprooted tree

2.
roses
whiter in the rain
light the garden walk

The author of ku # 1 saw something that definitely is proper subject matter for a haiku and the information is stated in haiku form. For a long time I was bothered by the "swollen, flowing" part of the second line. Only when I saw the "of" hanging on the end of the first line, (something I would not do), did I recognize that the author was counting syllables. Instead of wasting energy on this practice, and crippling the poem, I wish the author had worked harder to find an association or comparison of the flow of the flooded river and the uprooted tree. This gift is there and only needs a second of insight to discover it. But the words the author used will not enlightened you because he or she never "saw" the connections. Thus, #2 goes to the next round.

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3.
A fluted whistle
across the skeleton wood
winter is on us

4.
 dark branches sway
against the twilight sky
wolf songs echo

Both of these haiku seem intent on creating a similar mood. Although #3 is more fancy with "fluted whistle" (which I am still having trouble picturing unless this means the whistle is like the sound of a flute) and "skeleton wood" which I rather like, the haiku includes a completely unnecessary personal pronoun. It would have been so easy to state the idea in the last line in a more impersonal manner. Yet, I do thank the author for the idea of "winter is on us" which can be taken literally with a bit of a development, perhaps in a tanka? To find the ways that the "winter is on us" (instead of upon us, as in the cliché) would be a worthy poetic journey in a form other than a haiku. Ku #4 goes to the next round.

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5.
a cricket chirps, hops
in the summer moonlight
a shooting star

6.
I'm as plain as a
rich tea biscuit good to eat
you like semi-sweet?

How often have I cited haiku for being run-on sentences and here in #6 we have a haiku punctuated as if it is a sentence and yet, when reading it, the sense of the poem tries to break the information down into phrases. More than a haiku, #6 feels like one of those ads in the personals column in a freebie newspaper. The two pronouns are further evidence that #5 will win this match.

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7.
strings glisten
as the sunlight hits my car
a spider was here

8.
Again the girl writes,
scratching a pen against the
paper, unrestrained.

Okay, which one will you pick as the winner of this match? And why do you agree to send # 7 to the next round?

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9.
Nativity scene . . .
did Jesus know some people
would share his birthday

10.
Autumn haze
mourning veil circling
the hazel tree

The type of rhetorical question, as used in #9 is not haiku material, but would be completely correct to use in a tanka. Remember haiku deals with the here and now and what is. By using "nativity scene" the author has brought the action into our now moment and the line breaks are fine, but the concept of a historical figure "knowing" what we think or do today is now is not what haiku works with. Ku # 10 goes on.

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11.
dead eucalyptus
a vulture opens its wings
to the winter sun

12.
Picked plants in summer
to dye the clean washed white wool
for winter weaving

Ku # 12 has me smiling because the author is trying to tell us of something he or she did but is carefully avoiding the use of the personal pronoun so I won’t pounce and yell. If one allows the verse to begin with the needed "I" one gets the complete sentence in seventeen syllables. Haiku is more than just chronicling our rustic and politically correct acts, but finding some connection between the images. All three of these are logical so there is really nothing new to inform the reader. Ku #11 goes to the next round.

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13.
ink-stained fingers
curled around turkey feather
old poet sleeps

14.
winter dust
gathered between blind slats
the early sun

It is funny, when I look at a haiku for judging I never begin counting syllables until some little jog or blip in the smoothness of the reading sets off a bell somewhere deep within me. That alarm sounded as I read "curled around turkey feather." The lack of an article there and in the last line was so obvious of the author’s major intent. It makes me wonder how persons can believe in following an outdated and inaccurate ‘rule’ even when it cripples their own language. Ku #14 wins this match.

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15.
alone on the beach
another's footsteps leading
into the water

16.
Fierce wind blows about
waves break, splash high: the coast
so far but yet so close

What we have here is another give-away that the author of #16 is more interested in counting syllables than saying something valuable by the need for a use of punctuation – especially when it appears within the lines. When so much is sacrificed for the counting of syllables and then the haiku has one syllable too many in the last line the last string around my bundle of patience breaks with a pop that sends ku #15 goes to the next round.

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ROUND TWO

2.
roses
whiter in the rain
light the garden walk

4.
 dark branches sway
against the twilight sky
wolf songs echo

Here we have a good comparison of nearly equally matched haiku, but one author has seen the light, the radiance, the bloom of life and the other one paints with a dark brush. Which poem would you rather memorize and stow away for later savoring? My vote goes to #2.

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5.
a cricket chirps, hops
in the summer moonlight
a shooting star

7.
strings glisten
as the sunlight hits my car
a spider was here

Here again, that comma in the first line gives away the counting game. Actually the author is on to something quite good. It is almost a haiku cliché that cricket chirping and the sound of stars is synonymous, but I love the idea of the crick’s hopping being compared to a shooting star. This is new and very good! This shows how the reality can used to give life to an old idea. This author, as few have in this game, is showing a connection between the two images of the haiku. Excellent work. But we do not need the moonlight, or the summer (shooting stars indicate that season), so the author has a bit of work to figure out how to make this near-miss haiku work. Ku #7 goes to the next round in the meantime.

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10.
Autumn haze
mourning veil circling
the hazel tree

11.
dead eucalyptus
a vulture opens its wings
to the winter sun

I am almost sorry to find these two haiku coming together in this match. I like each of them for various reasons. I wish the author of #10 had not used a capital for autumn. I do like the word play on "mourning / morning" veil and I am glad to have the tree species be one that uses a female’s name. This personalizes the mourning without really bringing a person into the haiku. The author is using the riddle technique so my first inclination would be to have the verse written as:

mourning veil
circling the hazel tree
autumn haze

This way the answer relates to the unstated question in the first two lines (what is that mourning veil circling the hazel tree?). Ku # 11 heads for the next round.

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14.
winter dust
gathered between blind slats
the early sun

15.
alone on the beach
another's footsteps leading
into the water

Again a good match of nearly equal haiku. Ku #14 shows the use of the riddle technique properly formulated. Whereas the usual result of the riddle of showing how two things can be seen as the same thing, that device is given a slight twist here. The winter dust is not the early sun but the dust can only be seen because of the sun. I liked a poem about seeing having in it the play on blind / blinds. This is very good. Somehow I wish the author had used "low sun" instead of "early sun." For me, there would have been an additional connection between our low opinion of dust and the lowness of the sun. This is a tiny, tiny point, but when up against others in a contest, it can be critical. Ku #15 goes ahead to the next round.

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ROUND THREE

2.
roses
whiter in the rain
light the garden walk

7.
strings glisten
as the sunlight hits my car
a spider was here

Oh ouch. Why did the author of #7 have to say the spider "was" here? Putting the past tense in here ruins the whole thing as a haiku. Remember they are all to be written in the present tense? How much more interesting, and probably factual to say that the spider was still there in the car! So close and yet. Also I would have worked to end the haiku with a noun instead of a preposition. Doable with rewriting. Ku #2 heads for the winners’ circle.

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11.
dead eucalyptus
a vulture opens its wings
to the winter sun

15.
alone on the beach
another's footsteps leading
into the water

Ku #15 is working with a well-known Japanese literary device known as yuugen, in which the poem is given an air of mystery and causes the reader to ponder about what is happening beyond the words giving partial information. As one finishes reading the haiku, one’s eyes whip back to the beginning. If one is now alone on the beach and there are footprints leading into the water that means that someone is either swimming or has drowned. Since there is no way the reader can know what the true answer is, the use of this device does engage the fantasy of the reader, but it makes me feel my sympathy and emotions have been "used." The vulture, a bird which I do not really like, goes into the winners’ circle.

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ROUND FOUR

2.
roses
whiter in the rain
light the garden walk

11.
dead eucalyptus
a vulture opens its wings
to the winter sun

Those who have read these games will be expecting me to toss #11 out for being a dark and depressing subject and I admit I am very tempted but yet as I continue to reread the haiku, the idea that even an ugly, black vulture opens its wings to the little warmth of the winter sun has something very touching about it. It makes me feel that the vulture needs the winter sun as much as I do and that vulture and I are not that much different. This is one of the true values of haiku – showing us the oneness of our existences. I also admire the author for teaching the lesson with the least lovely of images – a device that only makes the lesson stronger.

It was easier for me to like the idea that the roses washed whiter by the rain have become so luminous that they can function as lighting along the garden path. I am drawn to the radiance, the glow, and the pseudo-science that washing roses makes them into tiny light bulbs – which their shape suggests. But I cannot ignore the lesson of #11. So I will gladly declare a tie between:

roses
whiter in the rain
light the garden walk

and

dead eucalyptus
a vulture opens its wings
to the winter sun