1064 haiku. Best yet. And a maximum of 25 placegetters only. Many thanks, all you Poets out there - especially if you entered for the first time. Congratulations all round, and to the winners in particular.

Many of you wrote fresh, wakeful and imaginative haiku. And gave variety! Dragons and jandals, boy racers and jellybeans, hedgehogs and even Macbeth. And, just like adult writers, you were in love with autumn leaves, waves and birds. Good to see your use of New Zealand/ Aotearoa names too: pohutukawa and manuka, tuatara and wet togs. When all else failed, several of you contemplated the blank page. (Silence has a good tradition in haiku!)

Antarctica was a popular location. (Curriculum topic?) At first I thought - with Basho on my side - that firsthand experience was an essential criterion. The writer's everyday life. But those skilfully juxtaposed cold images didn't need katabatic winds to blow to success.

The leading entries were not only clear, accurate and original but they also had 'lift'. (Yes, more wind!) They became larger. They leapt over their own boundaries, achieved that difficult-to-get depth - or resonance.

First prize

Flanders' fields
the horizon scars
the sunset
      Charlotte Trevella, Christchurch

A powerful haiku. Emotional impact, startling image, immediacy and craft. With such evidence at one's feet of humankind's inability to live peacefully, the future seems blighted. And even sunset, normally an occasion of wonder and awe, is spoilt. As well, the word 'sunset' can mean 'decline' or 'the final phase'. Of civilisation? The sun - life-giving - disappears below the horizon, leaving darkness. ........... True, that major metaphor made me pause. Metaphors tend to be discouraged in haiku though they do seem to be coming back into fashion in the US. The usual 'rule': Tell it plain! But, but, 'the cicada's cry/ drills into the rocks' (Basho).

Second prize

autumn wind
following her footsteps
through the leaves
      Sophia Frentz, Tauranga

I kept seeing more in this haiku. The autumn wind follows 'her footsteps'; the persona follows 'her footsteps'. (A neat coupling of lines 2 & 3; & of lines 1 & 2.) A touch too, perhaps, of following the example of a wise elder, the pattern of a parent. And then, there's the transience or quick passing of time expressed by the image of falling leaves. Over all hangs the traditional sadness/melancholy of autumn.

Third prize

night fog
the white line
moos
      Harry Frentz, Tauranga

That surprise so neatly expressed in the final line! What fun, and immediacy. A skilled haiku.

Fourth prize

electrical wires,
sparrows shudder
into the storm
      Charlotte Trevella, Christchurch

A nice link between 'electrical' & 'shudders'. Otherwise, shouldn't those sparrows puff up their feathers to keep warm? That one little word 'into' suggests that those hardy sparrows go with the storm rather than pitting their frail strength against it. A reminder of: 'Sudden shower -/ a flock of sparrows/ clinging to the grasses' (Buson).

Fifth prize

leopard seals
lie on glaciers
shadows in the wind
      Alex Harding, Christchurch

Another charged haiku for our time: endangered seals and retreating glaciers. The striking final line - both literal and metaphorical - stays with me. Dire shadows, and an Antarctic wind that sweeps all before it.

Each highly commended haiku is clear and concise with a well-focused image and turning point. Appreciate the fun and sharpness of 'school compost/ the worms/ obese'. The commended haiku present an able standard too.

And there were still haiku that were within a whisker of getting included.

So you want another tip or two: Keep your haiku simple. (Yes, it's possible to have simplicity and depth. Read the anthology!) Your images are great! But structure sometimes failed imagination: Too many words, too many images, repetition and complexity.

Now, occasionally, personification does work in a haiku. But most of the time it doesn't. Keep it for your mainstream poetry.

And, on the whole, better to leave out your own opinion. You're the observer - though the haiku may convey a strong emotion - subtly. The trouble is - there are always exceptions. Have you read Issa's poems!

A minor point: Use as little punctuation as possible. You don't need to begin a haiku with a capital letter. Ok, that's a change from the usual school rule.

It's fun to practise using 'models' but take care that any haiku you submit to a competition is not too close to the original. This can be tricky - given the delight in similar moments around the world and the constraints of a few words. Basho said, 'Don't imitate me;/ it's as boring/ as the two halves of a melon'.

Remember, readers bring their own experience and feelings to the poem. You, the writer, have no control over that. There's always an element of subjectivity in judging. For writers not included this time, next year, another competition, another judge! And, you know, finding and writing haiku is fun itself. It's a great way of seeing. Read on. Write on.

Thanks again, Poets, and also supportive Teachers and Parents, as well as Competition Organiser Laurice Gilbert.

Living with 1064 haiku is a delightful way to spend time. I could do it all over again.

Nola Borrell, June 2008

Footnote: Translations of Japanese classical haiku from The Essential Haiku, by Robert Hass (1994)

Winners

First Charlotte Trevella, Christchurch - ‘Flanders' Fields'

Second Sophia Frentz, Tauranga - ‘autumn wind/following her footsteps'

Third Harry Frentz, Tauranga - ‘night fog'

Fourth Charlotte Trevella, Christchurch - ‘electrical wires

Fifth Alex Harding, Christchurch - ‘leopard seals'

Highly Commended:

Harry Frentz, Tauranga - ‘a tui'

Sophia Frentz, Tauranga - ‘ autumn wind/blowing colour'

Maddy Hayward, Wellington - ‘school compost'

Sophie Kirkby, Australia - ‘an owl hoots'

Tamara Webley, Christchurch - ‘the shadows'

Commended:

Amelia Anderson, Christchurch - ‘First light'

Rachel Boddy, Hamilton - ‘a boat bobs'

Liam Collinson, Christchurch - ‘Captain Scott's'

Monty Elworthy, Christchurch - ‘in a ruck'

Clare Fairgray, Christchurch - ‘wave after wave'

Marcel Foster, Christchurch - ‘baby penguins‘

Bede Gorman, Christchurch - ‘after a storm'

Sage Gwatkin, Christchurch - ‘behind the fridge'

Sophie Kirkby, Australia - ‘fisherman's cabin'

Lorelei Parker, Christchurch - ‘the playground'

Charlotte Read, Christchurch - ‘my skin cooks'

 

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