Haiku Society of America Renku Awards
			    in Memorial  of Bernard Lionel Einbond
			  
              
                
~ ~ ~
                HSA Renku Awards for 2013
              
              Norman Darlington and Linda Papanicolaou
judges
              
                Grand Prize
                
                  Early Morning Heat
                  John Carley, Rossendale, Lancashire, England (sabaki) 
                    Lorin Ford, Melbourne, Australia 
                    Cynthia Rowe, Sydney, Australia 
                    Sandra Simpson, Tauranga, New Zealand 
                    William Sorlien, St. Paul, Minnesot
                
                
                  ~ ~ ~
                  
                    Early Morning Heat
                  
                    Jo
                    
                      a line of ants 
                        in the courgette flower—
                        early morning heat
                      
                        
                          
                            
                              
                                Sandra
                              
                            
                          
                        
                      
                      perhaps you’d care 
                        to share my parasol?
                      
                        
                          
                            
                              
                                John
                              
                            
                          
                        
                      
                      country-western 
                        and native songs, 
                        a circle round the drum
                      
                        
                          
                            
                              
                                William
                              
                            
                          
                        
                      
                      she pastes her happy snaps 
                        to a favourite page
                      
                        
                          
                            
                              
                                Cynthia
                              
                            
                          
                        
                      
                    
                    Ha
                    
                      seeking, hiding
                        way beyond the curfew 
                        shadows and moon
                      
                        
                          
                            
                              
                                Lorin
                              
                            
                          
                        
                      
                      in the blackberry basket 
                        a taste of river fog 
                      
                        
                          
                            
                              
                                Sandra
                              
                            
                          
                        
                      
                      the chameleon’s tail 
                        curls between 
                        red, orange, yellow
                      
                        
                          
                            
                              
                                Cynthia
                              
                            
                          
                        
                      
                      with a shiver of silk 
                        her stocking hits the floor
                      
                        
                          
                            
                              
                                John
                              
                            
                          
                        
                      
                      everyone answers 
                        to the name of Smith 
                        at Honeycomb Hotel
                      
                        
                          
                            
                              
                                Lorin
                              
                            
                          
                        
                      
                      the street-sweeper 
                        returns a gallic shrug 
                      
                        
                          
                            
                              
                                Sandra 
                              
                            
                          
                        
                      
                      misunderstood 
                        a frog jumps into    whoops 
                        the bouillabaisse 
                      
                        
                          
                            
                              
                                Lorin
                              
                            
                          
                        
                      
                      a smear of something 
                        stains my new saijiki
                      
                        
                          
                            
                              
                                John
                              
                            
                          
                        
                      
                      snowbound highways 
                        lined with deer, 
                        the moon in every eye
                      
                        
                          
                            
                              
                                William
                              
                            
                          
                        
                      
                      lemmings stream across 
                        a frozen lake
                      
                        
                          
                            
                              
                                Cynthia
                              
                            
                          
                        
                      
                      over and over and over 
                        on hold 
                        the first four bars of Bach
                      
                        
                          
                            
                              
                                William
                              
                            
                          
                        
                      
                      all that Dresden china 
                        turned to dust 
                      
                        
                          
                            
                              
                                John
                              
                            
                          
                        
                      
                    
                    Kyu
                    
                      granddad hides his stash 
                        of sticky toffees 
                        in the glove box
                      
                        
                          
                            
                              
                                Cynthia
                              
                            
                          
                        
                      
                      a blackbird tugs a worm 
                        out of a hole
                      
                        
                          
                            
                              
                                Lorin
                              
                            
                          
                        
                      
                      rising above 
                        the dry stone wall 
                        waves of white blossom
                      
                        
                          
                            
                              
                                William
                              
                            
                          
                        
                      
                      between our dreams of spring 
                        a bridge of sand 
                      
                        
                          
                            
                              
                                Sandra
                              
                            
                          
                        
                      
                    
                  
                
              
              ~ ~ ~ 
              
              Second Place
              
                  Sparrow Footprints
                    
Elizabeth McFarland, Karlsruhe, Germany 
Tzetzka Ilieva, Marietta, Georgia
                  ~ ~ ~
                
                    Sparrow Footprints
                    Jo
                    
                      remaining snow 
                      all the sparrow footprints 
                      by the baker’s shop 
                      
                        
                          
                            
                              
                                Tzetzka
                              
                            
                          
                        
                      
                      a rag of carnival streamer 
                      flapping, caught in an eddy
                      
                        
                          
                            
                              
                                Elizabeth
                              
                            
                          
                        
                      
                      our dandelions 
                      turn out to be enough 
                      for a crown and a bracelet 
                      
                        
                          
                            
                              
                                Tzetzka
                              
                            
                          
                        
                      
                      the touch that turns to gold 
                      a blessing or a curse?
                      
                        
                          
                            
                              
                                Elizabeth
                              
                            
                          
                        
                      
                    
                    Ha
                    
                      subtle pull 
                      of the dispute moon 
                      on every ebb and flow
                      
                        
                          
                            
                              
                                Elizabeth
                              
                            
                          
                        
                      
                      back home she tells him 
                      about the jasmine nights
                      
                        
                          
                            
                              
                                Tzetzka
                              
                            
                          
                        
                      
                      dusting the framed photos, 
                      the most important of all 
                      kept out of sight
                      
                        
                          
                            
                              
                                Elizabeth
                              
                            
                          
                        
                      
                      Hubble images—each one
                      more colorful than the other
                      
                        
                          
                            
                              
                                Tzetzka
                              
                            
                          
                        
                      
                      an octopus swirls its legs 
                      camouflages into a new pattern 
                      and whisks off again
                      
                        
                          
                            
                              
                                Elizabeth
                              
                            
                          
                        
                      
                      a set of long sharp teeth 
                      snaps the water
                      
                        
                          
                            
                              
                                Tzetzka 
                              
                            
                          
                        
                      
                      that winter we had 
                      polenta for breakfast, lunch, 
                      and dinner
                      
                        
                          
                            
                              
                                Tzetzka
                              
                            
                          
                        
                      
                      the premature baby 
                      kept warm in a tea cosy
                      
                        
                          
                            
                              
                                Elizabeth
                              
                            
                          
                        
                      
                      when my heart 
                        is almost breaking, Lord, 
                        I want Jesus to walk with me
                      
                        
                          
                            
                              (author unknown, Presbyterian Hymnal)
                            
                          
                        
                      
                      a secret collection of coins 
                      for throwing in the wishing well
                      
                        
                          
                            
                              
                                Elizabeth
                              
                            
                          
                        
                      
                      forgotten long ago 
                      a scrap metal pile comes alive 
                      under the moonlight
                      
                        
                          
                            
                              
                                Tzetzka
                              
                            
                          
                        
                      
                      just a hint of sweet decay 
                      as the leaves start to turn
                      
                        
                          
                            
                              
                                Elizabeth
                              
                            
                          
                        
                      
                    
                    Kyu
                    
                      birthday cake candles 
                      all blown out at once 
                      and the years fall away
                      
                        
                          
                            
                              
                                Elizabeth
                              
                            
                          
                        
                      
                      did I call my new boss 
                      by the wrong name?
                      
                        
                          
                            
                              
                                Tzetzka
                              
                            
                          
                        
                      
                      feeling the weight 
                      of cherry blossom froth 
                      in an outstretched hand
                      
                        
                          
                            
                              
                                Elizabeth
                              
                            
                          
                        
                      
                      nothing left but dust 
                      from the wings of a butterfly
                      
                        
                          
                            
                              
                                Tzetzka
                              
                            
                          
                        
                      
                    
                    ~ ~ ~
                  
                
                
              
              Honorable Mention
              
                Down the Line
                Tom Clausen, Ithaca, New York 
                  Yu Chang, Schenectady, New York 
                  John Stevenson, Nassau, New York 
                  Hilary Tann, Schuylerville, New York
              
              
                ~ ~ ~
                
                  Down the Line
                  
                    
                      freight train 
                        sumac red 
                        all down the line
                      
                        
                          
                            
                              
                                Tom
                              
                            
                          
                        
                      
                      frosted windows 
                        on our little house
                      
                        
                          
                            
                              
                                Yu
                              
                            
                          
                        
                      
                      tilt of heads 
                        viewing the moon 
                        from a canyon
                      
                        
                          
                            
                              
                                John
                              
                            
                          
                        
                      
                      a full set of 
                        mother’s best china
                      
                        
                          
                            
                              
                                Hilary
                              
                            
                          
                        
                      
                      surprise offering 
                        to a snake charmer 
                        in Mumbai
                      
                        
                          
                            
                              
                                Yu
                              
                            
                          
                        
                      
                      her stockings 
                        over the chair
                      
                        
                          
                            
                              
                                Tom
                              
                            
                          
                        
                      
                      scrolling down 
                        to savor
                        the x’s and o’s
                      
                        
                          
                            
                              
                                Hilary
                              
                            
                          
                        
                      
                      dust motes shudder 
                        in a shaft of light
                      
                        
                          
                            
                              
                                John
                              
                            
                          
                        
                      
                      I wonder 
                        who has John Wills’ 
                        cold box of nails
                      
                        
                          
                            
                              
                                Tom
                              
                            
                          
                        
                      
                      election day coup 
                        for the 99%
                      
                        
                          
                            
                              
                                Hilary
                              
                            
                          
                        
                      
                      all eyes 
                        on the whistle blower 
                        in the boardroom
                      
                        
                          
                            
                              
                                Yu
                              
                            
                          
                        
                      
                      a weakness for 
                        baked potatoes
                      
                        
                          
                            
                              
                                Tom
                              
                            
                          
                        
                      
                                          the click 
                        of her tongue ring 
                        against my teeth
                      
    
      
        
          
            
              John
            
            
          
        
    
      no holding back 
      on the empty beach
    
    
      
        
          
            
              Yu
            
            
          
        
    
      at the dude ranch 
      coyotes howl 
      even on moonless nights
    
    
      
        
          
            
              Hilary
            
            
          
        
    
    just a ghost of Lincoln 
      on this old penny . . .
    
      
        
          
            
              John
            
            
          
        
    
    veterans 
      admitted for free 
      at the arcade
    
      
        
          
            
              Tom
            
            
          
        
    
    some heirloom seeds 
      fall by the wayside
    
      
        
          
            
              Yu
            
            
          
        
    
    a Woodstock 
      of cherry blossoms 
      in the formal garden
    
      
        
          
            
              John
            
            
          
        
    
    my kite 
      aloft
    
      
        
          
            
              Hilary
            
            
          
        
    
  
                  
                
              
                              ~ ~ ~ 
               
			 
		 
		 
		 
		The Haiku Society of America sposors this annual award for renku of 36, 20, or 12 stanzas. 
        See  the contest guidelines for the HSA Renku Awards. 
        For more information about the goals of this contest, download a copy of the HSA Renku Contest Committee Report (pdf) published in Frogpod XIII:2 (May 1990). 
        Awards by year: 
        | 2018 | 2017 | 2016 | 2014 | 2013 | 2012 | 2011 | 2010 | 2009 | 2008 | 2007 | 2006 | 2005 | 2004 | 2003 | 2002 | 2001 |
         
        2013 judges commentary: 
        Grand Prize - Early Morning Heat
        The winning poem, “Early Morning Heat,” is a success on many levels. Interestingly, it was the entry with the greatest number of participants: five poets, who penned four verses each. There is a danger, when incorporating so many different voices, that the resulting poem will lack unity and make for a disjointed read with little poetic flow. However, when the sabaki (lead poet) communicates with clarity and the renju know just what is required, the result can be a polyphonous harmony, in which the very differences in the poets’ voices are harnessed to strengthen the unity of the whole. Such is the case here. The first side of the poem (the initial four verses), while maintaining a degree of decorum appropriate to the introduction (jo), already gives a foretaste of the variety and skillful linkage, which will extend throughout all four sides of the poem.
        The hokku provides us with a close-up of insects crawling within the rich orange of a courgette (zucchini) flower, and rounds out this visual picture with the tactile “early morning heat,” pregnant with the promise of summer. The next verse, the wakiku, zooms out from the flower and finds us, the readers, invited under a parasol and into the poem. Once we leave the introduction and enter the development phase (ha, verses 5–16) the imagery takes on a new density, with the moon and shadows playing hide and seek, and a blackberry basket carrying “a taste of river fog.” Sensuality and gentle humour combine in the love verses of side 2, while an atmospheric whiff of France closes that side with “a gallic shrug.” That scent crosses the page into the poem’s second half with a humorous allusion to Basho’s frog, as, misunderstood, he jumps into the fish stew.
        Of course it’s not all fun and food, and as side 3 progresses we move into darker territory, with lemmings streaming across the ice intent on mass suicide, and images alluding to Polanski’s The Pianist, and evoking the enormity of the devastation visited on Europe in World War II. The closing side (verses 17–20) provides a resolution of sorts, with images tumbling quickly one on top of the other, and building to a crescendo with an almost painfully visual blossom verse at penultimate, followed by a gentle, symbolic conclusion, accepting of the twin realities of the worlds within and without the poetic za.
        It is no exaggeration to call “Early Morning Heat” a tour de force, and the judges feel no hesitation in awarding it the Grand Prize.
        ~ ~ ~        
        
        2013 judges commentary: 
        Second Place - Sparrow Footprints
        The nijuin to take Second Place, “Sparrow Footprints,” shows many strengths. Penned by two poets evidently comfortable writing together, one would hazard that this is not their first collaboration. Both the opening and closing sides (verses 1–4 and 17–20) are vivid and confident (with the closing pair particularly strong), although the intervening sections are in places a little uneven, with a couple of slightly wordy and packed verses (#9, #15) and occasionally rather mechanical linkage (sharp teeth snapping the water, to eating polenta; collection of coins, to scrap metal pile). That said, there is a rich variety of materials on display and the reader is engaged from start to finish as the poets explore the full gamut of emotions, while exhibiting a clear understanding of the basics of writing a good renku that a reader will want to follow through to its conclusion. Well done.
        ~ ~ ~        
        
        2013 judges commentary: 
        Honorable Mention - Down the Line
        “Down the Line” is the product of four writers whose blend of voices also indicates an easy familiarity. It opens vividly with a freight train of red box cars against the autumn foliage of sumac trees along the railroad tracks, and nearby a small house—“our house”—with its windows frosted from the warmth inside, and closes with a lamentation on wars and corrosion of values, against which the Woodstock era seems like a lost paradise. Despite that a kite, still hopefully aloft. Especially in comparison to the first-and second-place renku, its minimalism can seem a shock to the system—witness the three-word ageku. As judges we differ in our responses to this: for one it inclined towards a series of separate stills; for the other, the minimalism and separation of verses gave the poem a laconic quality of voice that was consistent with the setting of the hokku and waki. Both judges, however, agreed that the result of this choice brought problems, in that the linking is often vague or mechanical. There are some wonderful pairings—shuddering dust motes to cold box of nails; the humour of passionately kissing a young woman with tongue-piercing, then zooming out to that vintage clinch between Burt Lancaster and Deborah Kerr. But overall the linking in the ha seems more thought than felt, with a consequent lack of a sense of momentum. On another note, it took effort to avoid reading a certain degree of kannonbiraki (reversion) in the alternation of indoor and outdoor imagery that runs from the middle of side 1 through the first verses of side 2.
        At a subliminal level, there are what seem to be threads of theme running through the poem. The most prominent of these is the hokku’s railroad imagery, which returns in various elusive whiffs in the cold nails, the “whistle-blower,” the baked potato (a dining car specialty of the Northern Pacific), and “clink,” so that at times the poem seems to be circling back and reexamining itself from different angles. But this is done in such a subtle manner as to provide a great part of the poem’s power, and is in no danger of crossing into the realm of “thematic renku.” Overall a skillfully executed poem grounded in a strong sense of place.
        ~ ~ ~ 
        
        About the judges: 
        Norman Darlington is co-editor at Journal of Renga & Renku and Whirligig Multilingual Haikai Journal, as well as former renku editor of Simply Haiku and Moonset. He has led and participated in renku sessions at the World Haiku Festival (Netherlands, Ireland, India), at SOAS London, and at his international online forum The Renku Group. He has participated in linked verse collaborations with world leaders in the field, including William J. Higginson, Hiroaki Sato, Nobuyuki Yuasa, Herbert Jonsson, Cheryl Crowley, Chris Drake, Esperanza Ramirez-Christensen, John Carley, Ion Codrescu, Susumu Takiguchi, and Bruce Ross.
        Linda Papanicolaou is an art teacher who has been writing haiku since 2000. She is the editor of Haigaonline, an officer of the Yuki Teikei Haiku Society, and a member of Haiku Poets of Northern California and the Haiku Society of America. She has been writing collaborative linked poetry since 2005 and has been involved in renku published in the Journal of Renga and Renku, Lynx, Notes from the Gean, Simply Haiku, and Sketchbook.
        ~ ~ ~