Results for the Inaugural George Klacsanzky Memorial Haiku Contest

The inaugural George Klacsanzky Memorial Haiku Contest received submissions from 491 poets, totaling 1,393 haiku. This is a great honor for Haiku Commentary and for the memory of haiku pioneer George Klacsanzky. The judge of the contest, Michael Dylan Welch, was kind enough to write commentary on the winning poems. The full results are shown below.

First Place

abandoned cemetery
the dust in me
whispers a prayer

— Denisa Hanšutová, Slovakia

We are made from dust and to dust we shall return. This poem confronts us with that reality in its allusion to the book of Genesis, reminding us of our place in the cycle of life. This cemetery is abandoned, so even the cemetery is returning to dust. Yet the poet is visiting, either by chance, out of curiosity, or intentionally to see the grave of a loved one. In a moment of introspection, the poet’s awareness of mortality prompts a prayer of hope or desire, whispered in quietness, as if not to disturb the scene’s moving tranquility. Saint Augustine said, “It is no advantage to be near the light if the eyes are closed.” Perhaps visiting this cemetery has opened the poet’s eyes.

Second Place

nettle flowers—
the paramedics stop
defibrillating

— Lucas Weissenborn, Norway

It’s easy to suspect that these nettles, despite their flowers, are stinging nettles. As a result, this poem’s first line immediately introduces tension. Yet we could hardly predict where its last two lines will take us, which is a sad moment marking the end of a life. We can picture these flowers at the side of a road, noticed after an accident and the arrival of paramedics. The nettles echo that metaphorical sting. Most likely it is summer, the peak blooming time for many nettles. And although summer is usually the peak of life, here a life has ended, and we can engage with that moment of psychological realization that no more can be done to save this life.

Third Place

piecing together
a torn photograph—
winter stars

— Alvin B. Cruz, Philippines

Loss is confronted with a desire to heal, to mend, surely to piece together more than just a photograph. The stars may be particularly clear in winter, but their light is also cold. The image of the last line carries a coldness, yes, but also the idea of wishing upon a star, of desiring a return to the way things once were. A melancholy sadness pervades this poem, yet not without a touch of hope. I appreciate this poem’s deft pairing of unstated emotion with tactility.


Honorable Mentions
(in no particular order)

moonlight
the stillness
of a wrecking ball

— Ravi Kiran, India

It’s not often that we see a wrecking ball. It’s a tool of destruction, yet here it’s an object of fleeting beauty, seen at night when it’s not being employed for its intended purpose. The poet finds a new purpose for the wrecking ball and records that moment of attention for our appreciation.

glacial erratic—
a refugee traces
his lifeline

— Meera Rehm, UK

A refugee will know his or her origins and never forget them. Where does a glacial erratic come from? In some cases, the answer might be as simple as somewhere farther up the mountain, near a still-active glacier. But in many parts of North America and elsewhere, glacial erratics survive far from mountains, left over from the ice age where their origin is often much more of a mystery. Here the refugee contemplates not just the past but also the future.

summer midnight—
the traffic light changes
for no one

— Punyasloka Mohapatra, India

Perhaps we’ve been on a late-night walk and have seen traffic lights change when no cars are on the road. The irony of this poem is that the light changed for the poet, the observer, if not for a passing vehicle. Haiku poets are noticers, appreciators. Billy Collins has said that haiku are poems of existential gratitude, and we feel that gratitude in this poem.

summer fair
the merry-go-round
of glances

— Herb Tate, UK

It’s easy to imagine a parent seeing his or her child on this merry-go-round, perhaps a carousel. Every trip around brings a fresh glance, a fresh meeting of the eyes, a fresh sharing of delight. Surely the watcher appreciates the gentle joy of the person on the merry-go-round—its purpose is indeed merriment, and the watcher shares that joy vicariously.

returning soldier—
the kids ask their dad
for souvenirs

— Annette Akkerman, Netherlands

This poem points to the innocence of children, who seem to have no idea what war is, or what their dad’s job truly is. The question is, does the father explain, or let the kids think that his travel is more like a vacation? We can be grateful that the father has indeed returned, even if the children are not aware of how grateful they should be for that, their true gift on that occasion.

starless sky
opening and shutting
the same cupboard

— Christine L. Villa, USA

It’s late at night, and the poet has wandered into the kitchen, perhaps forgetting why, or changing her mind. The sky is starless outside the window, and perhaps that dullness has clouded the poet’s mind in this moment of aimlessness. This “same” cupboard may have been opened just a moment earlier, adding more depth to this moment of distractedness, and we can only wonder why.

stargazing
the baby’s cry
brings me back to earth

— Rich Schilling, USA

The stars here are so absorbing that the poet has momentarily forgotten their child. The reality of being a parent isn’t without the optimism of gazing at stars, though, and every parent will wish for the stars for their newborn baby. Up may seem to be countered with down in this poem, beauty tempered with practicality, yet those stars will surely be what this family reaches for in the years ahead.



Thank you to all participants of the inaugural George Klacsanzky Memorial Haiku Contest for making it a great success. We hope all of you participate next year in May. Cheers!