The Journal Of The Haiku Society Of America
frogpondThe Journal of the HaikuSociety of Americafr gVolume 35, Number 1Winter, 2012
About HSA & FrogpondSubscription / HSA Membership:In the USA: adults 35; seniors (65 ) & students (full-time) 30.In Canada and Mexico: 37; seniors & students 32.For all others: 47 USD. Payment by check on a USA bank or by International Postal Money Order. All subscriptions/memberships areannual, expire on December 31, and include three issues of Frogpondas well as three newsletters and voting rights. All correspondenceregarding new and renewed memberships should be directed to theHSA Secretary (see p. 186). Make checks and money orders payableto Haiku Society of America, Inc.Single copies of back issues postpaid:In USA & Canada, 12; elsewhere, 15 seamail; 20 airmail. Theseprices are for recent issues. Older ones might cost more, dependingon how many are left. Please enquire first. Make checks payable toHaiku Society of America, Inc. Send all orders to the Frogpond Editor (see next page).Changes of Address and Requests for Information:Such concerns should be directed to the HSA Secretary (see p. 186).Contributor Copyright and Acknowledgments:All prior copyrights are retained by contributors. Full rights revertto contributors upon publication in Frogpond. Neither the HaikuSociety of America, its officers, nor the editor assume responsibilityfor views of contributors (including its own officers) whose work isprinted in Frogpond, research errors, infringement of copyrights, orfailure to make proper acknowledgments.Frogpond Listing and Copyright Information:ISSN 8755-156XListed in the MLA International Bibliography and Humanities Inter-national Complete 2012 by the Haiku Society of America, Inc.Logo (title page): G. Swede & A. Krumins.2Haiku Society of America
Submissions Policy1. Submissions from both members and non-members of HSAare welcome.2. All submissions must be original, unpublished work that is notbeing considered elsewhere and must not be on the Internet (except for Twitter and Facebook) prior to appearing in Frogpond.3. Submission by e-mail is preferred(a) Put Frogpond in the subject line the kind of work sent.(b) Place all work in the body of the email (no attachments).(c) Note your place of residence in the body of the e-mail.4. Postal submissions will get a reply only if they contain either:(a) a self-addressed stamped envelope(b) a self-addressed envelope with one International Reply Coupon (IRC) for up to 30 grams; two IRCs for over 30 grams andup to 50 grams.5. Only one submission per issue will be considered.The Submission May Include Any or All of the Following:1. Up to ten (10) haiku2. Up to three (3) haibun3. Up to three (3) rengay or other short sequences4. One (1) renku or other long sequence5. One (1) essay6. One (1) book reviewSubmission Periods:1. February 15 to April 15 (Spring/Summer Issue)2. June 01 to August 01 (Fall Issue)3. September 15 to November 15 (Winter Issue)Acceptances will be sent shortly after the end of each periodNote to Publishers:Books for review may be sent at any timeSubmission Addresses (starting with the spring/summer issue35:2):E-mail: fnbanwarth@yahoo.comPostal: Francine Banwarth, Editor, Frogpond, 985 South GrandviewAve., Dubuque, Iowa 52003 (U. S. A.)Web site: http://www.hsa-haiku.org/frogpond/index.html .Frogpond 35:13
Museum of HaikuLiterature Award 100for the best previously unpublished work appearing in thelast issue of Frogpond as selected by vote of the HSAExecutive CommitteeFrom Issue 34:3after she leavesthe weightof hanging applesMarsh MuirheadBemidji, Minnesota***.4Haiku Society of America
Haiku & SenryuInn and Out Motelfilling the empty lotthe cop car at noonMarian Olson, Santa Fe, New Mexicoa rush of windbows the bluestemhorsetail cloudsbreakfast specialeighteen-wheelersin half lightTom Painting, Atlanta, Georgiathe scent of tarmacfrom an empty court fifteen loveHelen Buckingham, Bristol, Englandfirst kissmarram grass stubblesthe dunesSusan Richardson, Cardiff, Wales.Frogpond 35:15
scale the toddler asks what he costsdeep yawnthe soft clackof a spoonbill beakWilliam E. Cooper, Richmond, Virginiahaving left todayyou are no longer a manonly a fragranceAlanna C. Burke, Santa Fe, New Mexicoweary wearyuntil the sunset’s cloudssprout wingsWilliam Scott Galasso, Issaquah, Washingtonevening chanta ripplein the prayer flagsMichael Ketchek, Rochester, New York.6Haiku Society of America
wisteria infusing twilight’s warm breathcome fall with me languor’s slantSusan Diridoni, Kensington, Californiasunwith a chance of cloudsfamily reunionStephen A. Peters, Bellingham, Washingtonwalking on the mountain’s backfish scales on table planksnow and now and nowtenderlythis night fearmeadow stream forming its selfWilliam M. Ramsey, Florence, South Carolina.Frogpond 35:17
Spanish guitar—the sound of your fingersthrough my hairDeborah Barbour Lundy, Dubois, Wyomingpristine pillowon his side of the bedcold snapDiane Judge, Durham, North Carolinaevening bus stopeyesthat have seen enoughGlenn Coats, Prospect, Virginiathe round tripsfrom my house to yoursMöbius stripgray cloudsas the relatives arrive lumpy gravyBarbara Snow, Eugene, Oregon.8Haiku Society of America
Someone wrote“lávame”on my carAlguien escribió“wash me”en mi cocheBruce England, Santa Clara, Californiafirstcicada husknot her lastunansweredquestionwind chimesthe neighbor’s argumentbuilds&breaksPeter Vanderberg, Lynbrook, New Yorkthough morning lead usdown opposite roadsmemory foamGary Eaton, Port Moody, British Columbia.Frogpond 35:19
opening the silence morning gloryAnn K. Schwader, Westminister, Coloradoblackbirds braid the sky woodsmoke morningAndrea Grillo, Randolph, New JerseyespeciallyneverthelesshelloStephen Addiss, Middletown, Virginiamoonlit estuarya warm current entersthe conversationLorin Ford, Melbourne, Australiasnowdriftsnow we goto separate bedsElizabeth Moura, East Taunton, Massachusetts.10Haiku Society of America
downsizingguitar to ukelelemy lifeCarole Evelyn, Bellingham, Washingtonembittermentwind-weathered on the branchthe last chokecherryAutumn Noelle Hall, Green Mountain Falls, Coloradodarkness the reassuranceof a nightingaleGrace Galton, Somerset, Englandperhaps next yearshe says autumn mistJohn Kinory, Steeple Aston, Englandmarketshe weighs a year of laborin her handSeánan Forbes, New York, New York.Frogpond 35:111
Autumn warmthall the kittensfind a nippleGregory Hopkins, Weaver, Alabamapopping one last beer—a bit of sunrise spillsinto the oceanCollin Barber, Memphis, Tennesseelast piece of woodin the pilewinter widowAnita Guenin, San Diego, Californiahota gnat caughtin her lip glossAlicia Hilton, Wilmette, Illinoismagnitude 6-point-9the toll of the bellno one struckAlan Bridges, Littleton, Massachusetts.12Haiku Society of America
the old ache seeps downhill beneath the fernsMark Harris, Princeton, New Jerseygathering light,frost paisleyson the windowJohn Shiffer, Ithaca, New Yorkfamily dinnersiblings feed the elephantin the roomJulie Warther, Dover, Ohiomaybe an antnext time maybe this timeJohn Stevenson, Nassau, New Yorktide risingthis full moonlight his pale thighsPris Campbell, Lake Worth, Florida.Frogpond 35:113
potlatch bowl so muchto rememberAngela Terry, Lake Forest Park, Washingtonfeathered dinosaursa wood duck floatson its bright colorsRobert Mainone, Delton, Michiganazure skythrough bare branchesincluded in the bouquetBrent Partridge, Orinda, Californiaafter a fallthe old man’s bruisesspeak of sunsetTom Tico, San Francisco, Californiawhere I used to play airconditioned storage unitsfor memoriesBob Lucky, Addis Ababa, Ethiopia.14Haiku Society of America
flecked with cobwebs—mildewand old lovemy boat’s noseparting the reedsspring hazeMichael McClintock, Clovis, CaliforniayesI said your namesofa catMichelle Tennison, Blackwood, New Jerseyback to schoolvetch seeds rattlein their podsKatrina Shepherd, Dublane, Scotlandher skin through thin cotton sunriseJohn Hawk, Columbus, Ohio.Frogpond 35:115
oilhis sideways glancevinegarJoyce Clement, Bristol, Connecticutlast leavesjudderinglong shadowsNeal Whitman, Pacific Grove, Californiaone red asterin full sunburstlove so nearMaxianne Berger, Montreal, Quebecdead seasof the moonplainchantRoland Packer, Hamilton, OntarioChristmas eve—I mull the winewith my thoughtshortensia anderson, New York, New York.16Haiku Society of America
F walking O through GCara Holman, Portland, Oregonfour crows the sound of death in ChineseChristina Nguyen, Hugo, Minnesotathe barley dries—whiskey colors washingstones in the burnColin Stewart Jones, Aberdeen, Scotlandchilly dawnthe colors seepfrom my dreamsautumn tide pools dreams of peopleI no longer seeGregory Longenecker, Pasadena, California.Frogpond 35:117
cloudy nightplaces starlight goesin our lifetimeGary Hotham, Scaggsville, Marylandmating dragonflies—my overuseof dashesAubrie Cox, Muncie, Indianaall day blizzardthe old armchairgrowing deeperErnest Wit, Warsaw, PolandDad’s melancholy streakstrong in meblack teaMary Ahearn, Pottstown, Pennsylvaniasix month anniversarythe white noise of cicadasturns to snowMary Kipps, Sterling, Virginia.18Haiku Society of America
the weightof the briefcaseI no longer carryCarlos Colón, Shreveport, Louisianafifty years of marriagethe shape of the windin the old oak’s gnarlEric Houck, Deltona, Floridawe exchangemedical advicesummer fogJ. Zimmerman, Santa Cruz, Californiasheep shearing—a small indiscretionforgiven in timefalse indigo—the way a liecolors the dayMichele Harvey, Hamilton, New York.Frogpond 35:119
caught up in your story the tai chi of gnatsDan Schwerin, Waukesha, Wisconsinautumn chillthe acornmissing its capJeff Hoagland, Hopewell, New Jerseyfog on the mountainthe first day they sent herto work in the millBonnie Stepenoff, Cape Girardeau, Missourithe apiaristarrays his vegetablesgentle humQuendryth Young, Alstonville, Australiasound of rainon newly-fallen leaves—your untended graveDoris Lynch, Bloomington, Indiana.20Haiku Society of America
gOLDen lEAVESLeRoy Gorman, Napanee, Ontariopaper cutanother daycomes and goesRobert Epstein, El Cerrito, Californiasomethingfor those who have timethe side in shadowGreg Piko, Yass, Australiamisty and somewhatworn around the edges—the used booksellerBarry George, Philadelphia, Pennsylvaniaover pruning the tree last night’s argumentw.f. owen, Sacramento, California.Frogpond 35:121
green corn silkmy father wanted to liveforeverjeansthat fit last year fall creek risingCarolyn Hall, San Francisco, Californiatrain track clatterthe conductor’s punchescontrapuntalScott Mason, Chappaqua, New Yorksecrets the moonlightin her voicedeep autumn knowing there is nowhereI have to beWilliam Kenney, Whitestone, New York.22Haiku Society of America
lime pickle—the tangof an afternoon kissthe crow’s flight a brushstroke onthe falling dusksanjukta asopa, Karnataka, Indiameet me therebehind your eyeshorizonlessEve Luckring, Los Angeles, Californiathird trimesterthe seed heads heavywith summer rainlifelinesthe baby’s handstrace mineJohn Barlow, Ormskirk, England.Frogpond 35:123
summer rainsome of you insome of melossifiedMelissa Allen, Madison, Wisconsinit’s you I think of—biting into the heartof the figCynthia Cechota, Dubuque, Iowalast hot nightthe trumpet’s valves upand downpersimmonsin the colandersunburstLenard D. Moore, Raleigh, North Carolina.24Haiku Society of America
what a grumpI’ve become fields of goldenrodshorter daysI skimthe obituariesbelow zerodenial is wayunderratedChristopher Patchel, Metawa, Illinoisdown millions of yearsin the shale-lined gorgethis waterfall splashRuth Yarrow, Seattle, Washingtonsudden shadow—minnows gatherin a big-fish shapeKristen B. Deming, Besthesda, Maryland.Frogpond 35:125
antsmassingin a wall socketthe mysteryof desireSheila Sondik, Bellingham, Washingtonashes in the flowerbed the last thinghe could do for meBud Cole, Ocean City, New Jerseybetween any two points on a line—the Mojave—Nancy Carol Moody, Eugene, Oregonall bundled in the gauze of my child dreamingPaul Pfleuger, Jr., Chiayi, Taiwan.26Haiku Society of America
imaginaryin the glare of tidal flatstracks in cypherso imaginärdie Chiffren der Geläufeim gleißenden WattKlaus-Dieter Wirth, Viersen, Germanythe ping pong sound snug inside the patter of rainDaniel Liebert, Maplewood, Missouri****.Frogpond 35:127
Revelations: UneditedWriting From the Present, Past, and Futureby Penny Harter, Mays Landing, New JerseyWhen asked why I write haiku, I’ve answered:Each haiku I write is like breathing out, giving back to the earth recognition, affirmation, and gratitude. I am reminded of how seldomwe really notice what is going on around us, and how important themost ordinary things can be. Writing haiku is one way of translatingthe Earth—honoring what the mountain, the dragonfly, the neighbor,and even the dirt under our feet mean to our existence. Whether weknow it or not, we are one with them. The writing and sharing of haikucan bring us together as we celebrate our connections with the largerworld that we share, while at the same time affirming the particulartimes and places of our lives and our human responses to them.beekeeperhummingbackAlthough I affirm everything I’ve said above as being true to why Iwrite haiku, for me there are other sources of haiku besides honoringthe present moment of physical experience. Yes, I have written haiku,haibun, tanka and free verse poems based on the present moment,but also haiku and those other genres based on memories, fantasies,and dreams.I’ve even written poems from images and connections that cometo me when I “tune in” on someone or something I really have noaccess to—like an ancient Japanese wandering poet or place I havenever been—in the flesh, anyway. During those times, perhaps I amtapping into a larger reality that something in my psyche receivesand translates: poems from old Japan, for instance, like those I willbe sharing from my chapbook of haiku From the Willow. These moments, experienced vicariously but intensely, also feel like I amcapturing a particular time and place of my life—one previouslyunknown but feeling strangely familiar and “true”. I suppose somewould call that source of inspiration “the muse,” but I just think thatwe can all access more than we consciously “know.”I think of Indra’s net, the Hindu concept carried into Zen, of the in.28Haiku Society of America
terconnected nature of all “reality”—whatever that is. The past (myown and “other”), present, future, actual, possible, remembered,invented—all these are one, simultaneously unique and the same.And all feel true to my experience.In this essay I’d like to share with you a number of poems that havecome from my fantasy and dream worlds, and others that have comethrough on what I call my “FM channel”— perhaps accessing otherdimensions of experience besides the here and now that I happen tobe living in.One can find inspiration for fantasy-haiku from contemplating worksof art, dance, music, and other works of literature. Some years agowhile I watched Sachiyo Ito, an exquisite Japanese dancer, (http://www.dancejapan.com/), dance in the performance space at Tenri inNew York City, I found myself seeing the following scenes to accompany both the music and the dance:Listening to Sandwritten during Sachiyo Ito’s dance to “Chieko: the Elements” (Chieko:Genso)pouring sandfrom one palm to the other—she listensfoam slipsfrom a clam shell, sanddraining with itcarried out abovethe sea, sand drops froma gull’s cryat the sea’s edgeher feet slap the sand—breaking waveslistening to sandshe remembers night wind—dune grasses yieldingObviously, I was not on the beach when I wrote the sequence above.But I have been on beaches in the past, and as I watched Sachiyodance, those images began to flow through me, and I wrote them.Frogpond 35:129
down as they did so, scribbling on the edge of the performanceprogram.Shortly before Bill [my late husband, William J. Higginson] and Imoved to Santa Fe in 2002, I began work on my book Stages & Views,poems written to the woodblock prints of Hiroshige (The Fifty-ThreeStages of the Tokaido) and Hokusai (Thirty-Six Views [of Mount Fuji]).I had experienced a brief satori-like moment in the late eighties, andwanted to write a collection in which “I” got out of the way entirely.Of course I knew that my consciousness would decide what to includeand what to ignore in the prints, but I felt the best way to express thatmomentary glimpse was to write poems with no first person singularin them. And those prints had long fascinated me.Both sections of the book (“Stages” and “Views”) contain haikulike short poems. In a renku-like process, I linked the piecesin the “Views” half of the book with haiku, and I also tried tosimilarly link the haiku to one another. All the poems arose frommy meditating on each of the prints—entering them imaginatively, and animating them in some way, starting with the present landscape, then often giving the characters and/or scenes apast or future. Here is a sequence of three poems from “Views”:20. FUJI FROM GOTEN-YAMA IN SHINAGAWA ON THE TOKAIDOOn Palace Mountain, the cherry treesblossoming, blossoming,each bloom laughingin a cloud of pink.People have come to laugh with them,unfurling fans beneath bright boughs,delighting in one another.Between two leaping branches,Fuji’s laughing too.evening rain—in the froth of the waterfallpale petals21. IN THE WAVE OFF KANAGAWA (“THE GREAT WAVE”)A mountain of water erupts from the sea,thrusts white tentacles toward the sky,engulfs the small boat angled in its foothills.30Haiku Society of America
spews flecks of foam, blanched as the facesof the frightened sailors.Among the swellsFuji is just another wave,cresting on inky depths.the cat’s eyes glitteras the lizard plays deadin its mouth22. THE TAMAGAWA IN MUSASHI PROVINCEA rider stands beside his horseholding the reins while the animal drinksfrom the sunlit Tamagawa.The river flows swiftly across his tongue.Beyond a skein of clouds,Fuji drinks too, slowly savoringthe cerulean sky.lunar eclipse—the shadow moves on the watcher’supturned faceAnother instance of responding vicariously to visual images, verydifferent fr
to Haiku Society of America, Inc. Single copies of back issues postpaid: In USA & Canada, 12; elsewhere, 15 seamail; 20 airmail. These prices are for recent issues. Older ones might cost more, depending on how many are left. Please enquire first. Make checks payable to Haiku Society of America, Inc. Send all orders to the Frogpond Edi-tor .
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May 02, 2018 · D. Program Evaluation ͟The organization has provided a description of the framework for how each program will be evaluated. The framework should include all the elements below: ͟The evaluation methods are cost-effective for the organization ͟Quantitative and qualitative data is being collected (at Basics tier, data collection must have begun)
Silat is a combative art of self-defense and survival rooted from Matay archipelago. It was traced at thé early of Langkasuka Kingdom (2nd century CE) till thé reign of Melaka (Malaysia) Sultanate era (13th century). Silat has now evolved to become part of social culture and tradition with thé appearance of a fine physical and spiritual .
On an exceptional basis, Member States may request UNESCO to provide thé candidates with access to thé platform so they can complète thé form by themselves. Thèse requests must be addressed to esd rize unesco. or by 15 A ril 2021 UNESCO will provide thé nomineewith accessto thé platform via their émail address.
̶The leading indicator of employee engagement is based on the quality of the relationship between employee and supervisor Empower your managers! ̶Help them understand the impact on the organization ̶Share important changes, plan options, tasks, and deadlines ̶Provide key messages and talking points ̶Prepare them to answer employee questions
Dr. Sunita Bharatwal** Dr. Pawan Garga*** Abstract Customer satisfaction is derived from thè functionalities and values, a product or Service can provide. The current study aims to segregate thè dimensions of ordine Service quality and gather insights on its impact on web shopping. The trends of purchases have
Brazilian quatrain poems and a few haiku. Up to 1919 haiku was not as well known in Brazil, even though a few had been published. The trova was the closest Brazilian poetic form to haiku until then. It consists of four verses with seven metric syllables each and a pair of ending rhymes in the second and fourth verses.
In the late 1950’s / early 60’s, Leonard Cohen published what is likely the first haiku by a leading Canadian poet. The haiku-like poem was titled and dedicated to Frank and Maria . work, and the Canadian Haiku Anthology was born (1979), featuring twenty poets from coast to coast with
