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Haiku Dialogue: What’s at Hand Week 12

 

 

Welcome to Haiku Dialogue — What’s at Hand Week 12 with Guest Editor Craig Kittner.

Let’s talk about haiku! Through June 26 we will see what 21 common objects can inspire.

Our theme for April 24 is an exotic spice.

Immerse yourself in the theme, then submit one original, unpublished haiku via our Contact Form. Please submit by Saturday April 20 at 6:00 pm eastern time. Include your name as you would like it to appear and your place of residence.

By submitting you agree that your work may appear in the column — neither acknowledgment nor acceptance emails will be sent.

I will select haiku that make good use of the theme and that are likely to generate lively discussions. I’ll add some thoughts below each week’s selections to get the conversation started.

Here are my selections for a hand-me-down toy.

jumble sale
the slightly damaged
killer whales

Adrian Bouter

 

dada’s farewell –
the music of his marbles
in my pocket

(dada is an elder brother in India)

arvinder kaur
Chandigarh,India

 

A ray of sunshine
On his rocking horse
His grandson

Anna Victoria Goluba

 

winter blackness
some light blinks
in granny’s doll house

Carol Jones
Wales

 

old batteries
the Chatty Cathy
sings bass

Carol Raisfeld

 

a hand-me-down toy car
offers a baby immigrant
to cross the border

Dubravka Šćukanec
Zagreb, Croatia

 

model plane kit
a piece missing
from my childhood

Edward Cody Huddleston

 

medical camp…
the refugee child holds
a crippled toy solider

Hifsa Ashraf
Pakistan

 

kids’ gathering
an invitation to play
from the Care Bear

Jackie Chou
Pico Rivera CA USA

 

my old Matchbox racer
at his feet in pieces
“it won’t transform”

Jackie Maugh Robinson
Las Vegas, Nevada

 

my grandson yo-yoing
with my dinged-up red Duncan
…my heart on a string!

Jo El
North Carolina

 

my brother’s old toy
now mine
the defects we share

John Hawkhead

 

inherited
his big toy fire truck
and fiery temper

Kath Abela Wilson
Pasadena, Calitornia

 

frazzled bear
tossed aside
ready for hugs

Kathleen Mazurowski

 

bald Barbie
the stories mom shared
after her chemo

Kimberly Esser
Los Angeles, CA

 

handed down
with the Ouija–
invisible playmates

Laurie Greer
Washington DC

 

not for her
the old dog’s toys
chewed table leg

Madhuri Pillai

 

“Monopoly”
missing
Mama’s thimble

Margaret Walker

 

the warm gaze
of an old brown bear . . .
Grandma’s kindness

Martha Magenta
UK

 

told a button
is as good as an eye
grandma’s teddybear

Michele L. Harvey

 

broken toy crane
I dig into
my father’s childhood

Nadejda Kostadinova
Bulgaria

 

dings and dents
another generation learns
to ride the bike

Nancy Brady
Huron, Ohio

 

on the shelf
the old doll smiles
at another child

Nazarena Rampini

 

the magic wand
now in my care…
mama’s presence

Pat Davis
NH, USA

 

Sunday morning, 11 a.m.
Who loaned the kids
those forgotten vuvuzelas

Pratima Balabhadrapathruni

 

rock-hard cot
the discarded Barbie
tight in her arms

Pris Campbell

 

sipping first coffee
beneath his looks-
a hand – me- down-toy

Radhamani sarma

 

hand-me-down
tiddlywinks
the sound of rain

Rich Schilling

 

insomnia moon —
in my daughter’s bed
my first teddy bear

Roberta Beary
County Mayo Ireland

 

mom’s due date
dad remounts
the training wheels

Ronald K. Craig
Batavia, OH USA

 

new duty station
tin soldiers
packed for relocation

Serhiy Shpychenko
Kyiv, UA

 

wingprints
in a sand pit
the pan-am jumbo

simonj
UK

 

hand me down
G.I. Joe
another war

Stephen A. Peters

 

almost
too fragile to hold—
my mother’s doll

Susan Rogers
Los Angeles, CA

 

Senior to Junior –
handing down the grin
of a stuffed monkey

Valentina Ranaldi-Adams
Fairlawn, Ohio USA

 

This being International Haiku Poetry Day, my comments celebrate three of haiku’s potentialities and how they manifest in this week’s selections.

First, haiku is well-suited for being sentimental without becoming mawkish. Anna Victoria Goluba exhibits this in her haiku. We make the connection between a ray of sunshine and the subject’s grandson, but because the sunshine and the grandson can both be literally on the rocking horse, nothing seems forced. In Margaret Walker’s “Monopoly,” we can’t be sure if “missing” means that Mama’s thimble has been lost, or that Mama herself has passed and she is missed. The latter seems right, but the uncertainty balances the poem’s sentimentality.

Second, haiku can inspire serious reflection without sounding preachy. There is an enigmatic air to Radhamani sarma’s “sipping first coffee,” yet one gets the sense that the relationship depicted is destroying the subject’s self worth. This inspires thoughts of  how we allow inequities to abide through ignorance and inaction. In a mere seven words, Stephen Peters calls attention to society’s ongoing indoctrination of children into warlike mentalities through the use of toys. He lets the reader decide what to make of this.

Third, haiku can be humorous and yet retain significance. Nancy Brady paints a funny picture of a beat-up bicycle upon which all the kids learn to ride. Beyond the humor her poem exemplifies haiku being a metaphor instead of using metaphor. None of us make it through childhood unscathed. How else could we learn? Valentina Ranaldi-Adams cheekily implies that it is a goofy smile that is being passed down from generation to generation, yet we get a sense that the smile is endearing and part of what binds them in love.

Which haiku qualities do you find most admirable? Please share your thoughts with us.

 

Guest Editor Craig Kittner lives near the banks of the Cape Fear River in Wilmington, North Carolina. He has worked as a gallery director in Washington, DC, and a program director for the Kentucky Arts Council. He took second prize in the North Carolina Poetry Society Bloodroot Haiku Award for 2019.

 

Katherine Munro lives in Whitehorse, Yukon Territory, and publishes under the name kjmunro. She is Membership Secretary for Haiku Canada and an Associate Member of the League of Canadian Poets. She co-edited an anthology of crime-themed haiku called Body of Evidence: a collection of killer ’ku.

Comments

  1. medical camp…
    the refugee child holds
    a crippled toy soldier
    .
    Hifsa Ashraf
    Pakistan
    .
    .
    I expect refugee camps after the Second World War but we have now surpassed the numbers of displaced people and it’s all about money first (war=profit). When was peace so greatly despised and feared?
    .
    This haiku has powerful images and not in a simplistic manner. We should fight being firstly dumbed down, and then dumbed up, and now further dumbed and sedated sidewise.
    .
    Opening poems is a technique that is not always simple, do we open one way or another. We know that the opening line is not about a medical building of bricks and mortar, that’s impossible now, as they are often military targets. And for expediency they need to be moved, easily – think of M.A.S.H units in the Korean War (25 June 1950 – 27 July 1953). MASH Units in the Korean War. MASH units or the Mobile Army Surgical Hospital was a United States Army medical unit serving as a fully functional hospital in combat areas. The units were first established in August 1945, and were deployed during the Korean War and later conflicts. WIKIPEDIA
    .
    In the second line what does the refugee child hold? As it’s almost unusual for a child not to be a refugee or someone with a target on their back from State, other countries, corporate entities, or lone or group criminals etc… I have to wonder what s/he is holding, and pray its something good for the child.
    .
    I assume “solider” is a TYPO?
    .
    Is it a deliberate typo as children’s education is often disrupted for one reason or another.
    .
    When I removed the typo “solider” and started to correct the spelling I was momentarily left with:
    “a crippled toy”
    .
    .
    That’s also a very powerful line:
    .
    .
    medical camp…
    the refugee child holds
    a crippled toy
    .
    .
    Without TYPO:
    .
    .
    medical camp…
    the refugee child holds
    a crippled toy soldier
    .
    .
    The blurring of boundaries between what is and what isn’t a toy is intriguing. Is this a toy or actual soldier? When is a video game not one? Viewers of the Vietnam War sometimes felt it was a video game, and now drone attack operators must occasionally feel they might be part of the normative ultra-violent video war games.
    .
    But isn’t everything broken now? The climate is now visibly broken as are moral compasses, where war is the only reason to exist, whether we like it or not.
    .
    .
    A complex haiku, and one that will sadly be relevant for decades to come. Every single line looks and appears simple, but carries complex undertones.

    Reply

  2. rock-hard cot
    the discarded Barbie
    tight in her arms

    Pris Campbell

    The push and pull of emotions drew me into this one. Having read down the list, all of which touched in their own way, I arrived back at Pris’s ku.
    .
    More akin to an Ironman/woman, egotistic, wanna be sbs, sas, super hero we find ourselves out of the cot, picked up, dusted down and living to fight another day.
    Really! Some would say!
    Obviously we can only draw on our own experiences. Mine in this case, drawn from my memory as a kid with a hand me down action man. Living part of my toddler years behind bars, whilst mum tended the daily chores.
    Of course this ku is open to many suggestions.
    Perhaps what’s really happening, is a frustrated child is being chastised, her actions of being pent up, driven to despair and taking it out on the one thing we grow attached to, our toys, has gone too far and mother and toddler reach an impasse. Both sets of nerves stretched, both seeking to hold the contention, in this case a piece of plastic in the form of a doll.
    In my opinion Pris has managed to provide us with an action packed thriller.
    Thank you Pris!

    Reply

    • Robert, I just saw your comment. I appreciate so much that my haiku spoke to you so strongly. Thank you.

      Reply

  3. inherited
    his big toy fire truck
    and fiery temper

    Kath Abela Wilson
    Pasadena, Calitornia
    .
    .
    I love this! Of course I loved many before and after.
    This though for me has resonance. The tears, the joy, the laughter all bundled into a big red fire truck. (Red being the colour here in the U.K)
    The personalities, the fragility, the desire to own and discard. Kathabela has manage to transport the moods, the smell, noise and taste adding both urgency and calm.
    Thank you Kathabela!

    Reply

  4. Hi Everyone,
    It’s so helpful to my learning process to read analyses of the poems by so many of you. I’d like to note special appreciation of Simonj’s and Alan’s comments on Arvinder’s ku.
    Thanks also, to Christina and Laurie for their comments on my ku. And, of course, thanks to Craig for including mine in this column.

    Reply

  5. winter blackness
    some light blinks
    in granny’s doll house
    .
    Carol Jones
    Wales
    .
    .
    I think it was seeing “The Incredible Shrinking Man” (1957), probably around ten years after its release, that dollhouses took on other meanings:
    https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cJPe3f5Kb3s
    .
    Since then they’ve been a vehicle for drama ever since, including Amy Adams drama series “Sharp Objects”, and beyond the dollhouse:
    https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-HF7vQHhp3c
    .
    The opening line to the haiku, with the season accentuated by ‘blackness’ already contains a foregrounding of foreboding. The second line’s ‘diction’ is an almost casually inserted colloquialism with ‘some light blinks’ that continues the suspense and tension for me.
    .
    I feel we are now firmly embedded in some aspect of the private territory of night, and not all is good.
    .
    We are zoomed into something, a dollhouse, and a light somehow is switched on, inside! Is it by someone or something, or a trick of the light, perhaps a car’s sweeping headlights? But no, it must be an interior light?
    .
    The tautness of word selection, and with ‘blinks’ instead of ‘clicks’, is almost as if it’s a spectral eye ‘blinking’ and the discreet alliteration across two lines of ‘blackness’ and ‘blinks’ carries its own message of something sinister.
    .
    Everyday objects, particularly at night, assume a different cloak of being, and why not a dollhouse too? A classy and classic horror haiku! 🙂

    Reply

  6. On a personal note, another week of failure.
    The upside!, a fabulous selection from around the world that has teased sensitivity, smiles and laughter. Congratulations to all who got published.

    Reply

      • Alan
        Thank you.
        I believe I am right in thinking you said something similar in 2016/17.
        .
        the pupil learns to ride a wave
        .
        We all know to submit is to place the soul at the door of another. The a n other neither knowing who or what lies behind the words. She / he relying solely on the canvas that exists before their eyes. On this occasion perhaps “not” enough “light ” was present.
        .
        shivering timbers
        the sun plays a melody
        in blue

        learning to read
        within a space
        between words

        remaining
        in the darknesstoo long
        a mushroom

        Reply

    • ROBERT and ALAN, thanks.
      .
      To you, ROBERT, for your honest ‘personal note.’ Have to say I know the feeling. (Noticed you spent more words on the ‘upside!’ after it, though.)
      .
      To you, ALAN, for your perfect response. Coming from a (humble) master makes it second to none.

      Reply

  7. dada’s farewell –
    the music of his marbles
    in my pocket
    .
    arvinder kaur
    Chandigarh, India
    .
    Note: dada is an elder brother in India)
    .
    .
    It’s not easy, and it’s something very special, to write about a very close family member, be it parent or sibling. I’ve written extensively about my mother’s passing, and written two haiku about my father’s funeral, but never a sibling. It worries me that I might have to, and keep praying there will be decades before I lose a sibling.
    .
    Arvinder Kaur’s poetry as she knows, has been close to me for many years. This is very special, and uplifting despite both the author, and us as readers, bidding a goodbye to someone special.
    .
    The beautiful use of a term new to me, perhaps an honory father being a much older sibling? Someone who had both maturity and yet still kept a corner of his childhood, in the ownership of marbles, a school game, is moving and delightful.
    .
    Beautiful tribute, and haiku.

    Reply

  8. A trip down memory lane then when I’m struck by the imagery, deeper meaning, and interpretation the reader can make. Bravo!

    Reply

  10. jumble sale
    the slightly damaged
    killer whales
    .
    Adrian Bouter
    .
    .
    Jumble sales can bring a wealth of adventure at reasonable prices, and you get to own the history of a child before you. The second line is teasing, and uses enjambment making us flip over to the last line to see what is damaged, even slightly. At a time when there is supposed perfection, I hope the recipient, even if not knowing what wabi-sabi is, recognises the slight damage as integral to the passing on of something once precious.
    .
    And of course, as humans, in some areas, are attempting to wipe out whales, and other species, there is a poignancy and ironic twist as well.

    Reply

  11. Hi all,

    In India, esp. the South, from where I come, we have bomalla-koluvu. Which is usually during the Dusshera, or in Jan. Every year, we put up wooden steps, decorate them with silk and showcase our doll collections. Every year, one new toy(set). A small pleasure, and labour intensive, because we invite women and girls who live around to come visit our toy-expo, share laughter and snacks and of course the camaraderie of it all is calming and uplifting.
    I have seen this and have many treasures that are handed down to me by mom and my aunts of both sides…these days not many indulge in it…the small confines of apartments and a 10 day celebration makes it both time and labour intensive. Which is so sad.

    The prompt is a good one Craig. There is good amount of emotion and attachment in the words spun by all the haijin. As life grows more demanding, we tend to laugh at small stuff. Which is why I appreciate the humour in there. The poignant writes also hook me ..into the past and recent past, and the overwhelming desire to wipe away pain. But life is what it is, and what we make of it.

    @ Anna Victoria
    —
    A ray of sunshine
    On his rocking horse
    His grandson

    Anna Victoria Goluba

    I connect to this one, because of the optimism in there. These days, I watch my dad reconnect to pup and see my dog(past tense) in him(pup) I feel the poem.
    —
    —
    @Edward

    model plane kit
    a piece missing
    from my childhood

    Edward Cody Huddleston

    yes, I hate to let go of my Lego kits, never mind what is missing…where, it is more than just the kit, right?

    —
    @ Serhiv
    —

    new duty station
    tin soldiers
    packed for relocation

    Serhiy Shpychenko
    Kyiv, UA

    there is so much of truth in this … the first treasures of a kid are the toys, …and the truth of life thrown alongside innocence. I like this one, though it is a grim write about a grim situation

    Reply

  12. Marvelous choices again, Craig. Take a bow, too, for another prompt of yours eliciting a wide range of emotions.
    .
    dada’s farewell –
    the music of his marbles
    in my pocket — arvinder kaur
    .
    The music from your ku, ARVINDER—sometimes soulful, sometimes soothingly familiar—kept playing as I sauntered through this week’s selections. The whole of your ku is hauntingly beautiful.
    .
    A ray of sunshine
    On his rocking horse
    His grandson — Anna Victoria Goluba
    .
    Hard not to think of the grandson himself as the as ‘a ray of sunshine,’ ANNA VICTORIA.
    .
    a hand-me-down toy car
    offers a baby immigrant
    to cross the border —Dubravka Šćukanec…… and
    .
    medical camp…
    the refugee child holds
    a crippled toy solider — Hifsa Ashraf
    .
    Both the immigrant baby vis á vis a toy ‘vehicle of transportation’ in your ku, DUBRAVKA, and the refugee child holding ‘a crippled toy soldier’ in yours, HIFSA, speak to me of little ones ‘crippled’ (at least for awhile) by circumstance. Both ‘cross the border ‘of my conscience.
    .
    Am caught, Jo EL, by your ‘yo-yoing’ grandson pulling out your ‘heart on a string.’
    .
    my brother’s old toy
    now mine
    the defects we share —John Hawkhead
    .
    Your final line widens each time I re-read this, JOHN. A lá the Velveteen Rabbit, flaws often make us more human/ lovable than so-called virtues, don’t you think? Would rather share ‘defects’ than perfections any old day.
    .
    Same goes, KATH, for the ‘inherited ‘fiery temper’ in your ku cleverly juxtaposed with a ‘big toy fire truck’
    .
    and movingly, NADEJDA, in your
    .
    broken toy crane
    I dig into
    my father’s childhood
    .
    where your apt verb ‘dig’ ties together the brokenness of the toy crane with the implied brokenness your father’s early years.
    .
    Moving too is ‘a piece (of life)’ gone with a particle from ‘my childhood’ ‘model plane kit’ in EDWARD’S ku.
    .
    ‘[A]nother generation’ in your ku, NANCY, and ‘another child’ in yours NAZARENA, cleverly pull what used-to-be into the subsequent present. Love the ‘dings and dents’ in yours, NANCY, and the fact that in yours, NAZARENA, ‘the old doll smiles’ at the child rather than the reverse.
    .
    Missing Mama comes through poignantly both in your ku, MARGARET where even life doesn’t have a ‘Monopoly’ on so much as her thimble… and your ku, PAT, where her absent ‘presence’ is to be had magically through “ the…wand /now in my care.’…while an un-missing Mom in your ku, KIMBERLY, courageously (and inventively) shares ‘stories…/ after her chemo’ with a ‘bald Barbie’ in hand.
    .
    I wonder, PRIS: might the child in your ku who clasps ‘the discarded Barbie/ tight in her arms’ feel herself to be discarded?
    .
    Can almost hear ‘tiddlywinks’ mimicking ‘the sound of rain’ in your ku, RICH.
    .
    Is it you (past or present)? your daughter? both? under the spell of the ‘insomnia moon —’ (wonderful phrase), ROBERTA, who now know the comfort of a ‘first teddy bear’ apparently so well loved it’s still there to pass from mother to child?…. while your own ‘mother’s doll,’ SUSAN, with its potential for similar comfort is ‘almost / too fragile to hold—’?
    .
    Like STEPHEN’S ‘G.I. Joe,’ SERHIY, are your ku’s ‘’tin soldiers / packed for relocation’ in for yet ‘another war?’ One can only hope that — toys aside — the impulse for military conflict will not become a cultural hand-me-down.

    Reply

  13. my old Matchbox racer
    at his feet in pieces
    “it won’t transform”
    .
    Jackie Maugh Robinson
    Las Vegas, Nevada
    .
    .
    Ouch! A fascinating aspect where some youngsters might not know how an older style of toy works, and works well in its own context.
    .
    With AI now on the increase, if transformers themselves, can’t do it for themselves, they will suffer the same fate as Matchbox cars and the like. Neat verse!

    Reply

    • Thank you for this insight, Alan.

      You say, “…where some youngsters might not know how an older style of toy works, and works well in its own context.”

      I couldn’t help noticing that as also an apt commentary on the perceived chasm between human generations: “where some youngsters might not know how an ‘oldster’ [can] work, and work well in [their] own context.”

      Reply

      • Well, as a sometimes professional Mall Santa, I get to see tens of thousands of people from babies, to children, youngsters, young adults, and fewer older children seem to ask for expensive electronic toys thankfully! 🙂 I see the worried looks on parents when a child in the past would roll out a list that would be around the equivalent of US$2000 or more! 🙂

        Reply

  14. “Monopoly”
    missing
    Mama’s thimble
    .
    Margaret Walker
    .
    .
    Monopoly is still an iconic boardgame, and each piece has its fans. The thimble is something associated with putting things together. As a youngster, and even young adult, I did a lot of darning to make socks go further, and putting buttons on shirts etc… A thimble was vital unless you had skin as tough as cement!
    .
    Did the board game thimble get lost and Mama’s thimble was used to replace it, did Mama take the piece back, or did the thimble get put away when Mama passed away?
    .
    Another incredibly brief haiku, yet as potent as any poem ten times or more longer. Moving, poignant, mysterious, and highly crafted.

    Reply

  15. bald Barbie
    the stories mom shared
    after her chemo
    .
    Kimberly Esser
    Los Angeles, CA
    .
    Again, a well-selected opening line. We might not expect a Barbie doll to be bald, although more and more people are adapting them to mirror both ongoing and new realities. A lovely second line that is rewarded by an honest issue, that mom shares stories we wouldn’t want her to have to go through.
    .
    A well crafted haiku full of reality, and love.

    Reply

  16. rock-hard cot
    the discarded Barbie
    tight in her arms

    Pris Campbell

    This one is very powerful.

    Reply

  17. on the shelf
    the old doll smiles
    at another child
    .
    Nazarena Rampini
    .
    .
    I’m fascinated by this verse because it reminds me how helpless tens of thousands of humans are helpless at the whims of those who have to be in power whether appropriate or not.
    .
    Simple but potent opening line, and the mystery continues with a grat second line. The tension doesn’t stop concluding with a masterful closing line, that begs me to read back to the first line.
    .
    Nazarena Rampini from Pogliano Milanese, Italy has produced a verse equal to this famous haikai verse by J.D. Salinger:
    https://area17.blogspot.com/2018/10/taking-out-important-in-haiku.html

    Reply

  18. dada’s farewell –
    the music of his marbles
    in my pocket
    .
    arvinder kaur
    .
    Quality.
    .
    And the qualities:
    – an emotionally stirring event
    – a musical lyric
    – a juxtaposition
    —– the sorrow of parting with the sweetness of a new toy
    .
    Also a subtle fulfillment of the brief.

    Reply

    • Dear Simonj

      Thanks for such a wonderful and touching analysis. I am humbled and so happy that my poem worked well.
      Much love

      Reply

  19. Will have to read them thoroughly later as I glanced at a few only. Just returned from hospital and not thinking too clearly, but appreciate your remarks on mine, Craig. Thanks so much for selecting mine.

    Reply

  20. dada’s farewell –
    the music of his marbles
    in my pocket
    — arvinder kaur

    So true. Often a solemn moment comes from the simplest of things.

    Reply

  21. I liked every one of these! Again, impressed by the range of responses–as much humor as seriousness, as many small, personal moments as gestures to global issues.
    Just a few remarks:
    *
    jumble sale
    the slightly damaged
    killer whales

    Adrian Bouter
    this one hit the larger issues within the small. if only the real whales were but “slightly damaged”
    *
    dada’s farewell –
    the music of his marbles
    in my pocket

    arvinder kaur
    Chandigarh,India
    I can hear this–lovely
    *
    A ray of sunshine
    On his rocking horse
    His grandson

    Anna Victoria Goluba
    beautiful–running such a fine line between sentimentality and real emotion. well done
    *
    medical camp…
    the refugee child holds
    a crippled toy solider

    Hifsa Ashraf
    Pakistan

    an unforgettable image. this is worth boatloads of political commentary
    *
    my brother’s old toy
    now mine
    the defects we share

    John Hawkhead

    inherited
    his big toy fire truck
    and fiery temper

    Kath Abela Wilson
    Pasadena, Calitornia

    both so good on family inheritance
    *
    bald Barbie
    the stories mom shared
    after her chemo

    Kimberly Esser
    Los Angeles, CA
    a moving poem–so much pain compressed here
    and here:
    “Monopoly”
    missing
    Mama’s thimble

    Margaret Walker

    *
    the magic wand
    now in my care…
    mama’s presence

    Pat Davis
    NH, USA

    I love this–the way mothers really are magical to their children
    *
    hand-me-down
    tiddlywinks
    the sound of rain

    Rich Schilling

    yeah! haven’t thought of tiddlywinks in years! thanks for reminding me of this great word
    *
    hand me down
    G.I. Joe
    another war

    Stephen A. Peters

    almost
    too fragile to hold—
    my mother’s doll

    Susan Rogers
    Los Angeles, CA

    interesting to see these two together: do old GI Joes ever get weak? Can dolls carry on a fight?!

    Best to everyone on the blog. And thanks, Craig, for another inspired prompt and standout selections.
    *

    Reply

  22. I especially enjoyed the humor of Carol Raisfeld’s

    old batteries
    the Chatty Cathy
    sings bass

    ………

    The “social commentary” of these two poems remind us of the sad plight of far too many children in our world today –

    medical camp…
    the refugee child holds
    a crippled toy solider

    Hifsa Ashraf

    rock-hard cot
    the discarded Barbie
    tight in her arms

    Pris Campbell

    Reply

  23. hey Craig, thank you. I wrote like a billion less billion spontaneous haiku responses until I remembered I needed to check whether I made it to the Craiger’s List. I did, I did, oh wheee,

    and happy haiku day all,

    Reply

  26. A ray of sunshine
    On his rocking horse
    His grandson

    Anna Victoria Goluba

    winter blackness
    some light blinks
    in granny’s doll house

    Carol Jones
    Wales

    Both have a touch of melancholy and that really works for me

    So does

    model plane kit
    a piece missing
    from my childhood

    Edward Cody Huddleston

    For its inherent pain,felt by many —
    medical camp…
    the refugee child holds
    a crippled toy solider

    Hifsa Ashraf
    Pakistan

    And oh so much of it in —

    bald Barbie
    the stories mom shared
    after her chemo

    Kimberly Esser
    Los Angeles, CA

    Can relate so much to ….

    almost
    too fragile to hold—
    my mother’s doll

    Susan Rogers
    Los Angeles, CA

    Reply

    • Many thanks for you comment on my verse, Arvinder, appreciated.
      .
      dada’s farewell —
      the music of his marbles
      in my pocket
      .
      A delicate melodic effect the marbles portray of a childhood memory , Arvinder.

      Reply

  27. There’s nothing like the silence of a Sunday, morning, so this jumped out at me.
    .
    Sunday morning, 11am.
    Who loaned the kids
    those forgotten vuvuzelas
    .
    Pratima Balabhadrapathruni

    The word that comes to mind, GRATING.

    .
    So many toys and emotions that can be related to, enjoyed reading them all.
    .
    Thank you Craig for including mine

    Reply

    • Thank you Carol. I assure you the word you choose is apt, …I have good earplugs and noise cancellation headphones, …helps a little,

      Reply

  28. Another wonderful, diverse collection. Thank you Craig and poets. The qualities that Craig identifies are clearly admirable. When choosing from a collection such as this I regard my choices as personal and of the moment.
    .
    I am drawn to the mixture of feelings heard and felt in:
    .
    dada’s farewell –
    the music of his marbles
    in my pocket
    .
    Chandigarh,India

    The humour and reality in:
    .
    old batteries
    the Chatty Cathy
    sings bass
    .
    Carol Raisfeld
    .
    The inclusion of uncomfortable realities in:
    .
    medical camp…
    the refugee child holds
    a crippled toy solider
    .
    Hifsa Ashraf
    Pakistan
    .
    And an elusiveness haiku that hints at a few possible scenarios..I resisted this one at first but kept coming back and find myself wishing the dash were after the first line…so maybe I have missed ‘the boat’…but I still enjoy it very much:
    .
    sipping first coffee
    beneath his looks-
    a hand – me- down-toy
    .
    Radhamani sarma

    Reply

    • Thank you, Janice! Glad you like it. This one is true. 😉

      old batteries
      the Chatty Cathy
      sings bass

      Reply

      • You are so welcome Arvinder. I apologize for omitting your name in my original comment!
        .
        dada’s farewell –
        the music of his marbles
        in my pocket
        .
        arvinder kaur
        Chandigarh,India

        Reply

  31. I particularly enjoyed Laurie Greer’s haiku about the “invisible playmates” that come with a ouija board. Having used one in the past, I remember the excitement when the planchette spins beneath my fingers.

    Arvinder Kaur’s piece was lovely, with the “music of his marbles,” hopefully giving solace when the older brother leaves.

    So many beautiful poems.

    Reply

  32. Craig – Thank you for your comments about my “Monopoly”. I am so pleased that the “uncertainty” worked – and that it was actually my intent!
    I am thoroughly enjoying these sometimes challenging prompts. The time you and others take to comment on so many haiku is a wonderful learning experience. As a relative “newbie” to haiku I am often reluctant to comment – but am slowly learning as I read the haiku and the comments each week.

    Reply

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