Shadow Pond Journal First Anniversary Issue III 2024

🎨 : Two Doves in a Gingko Tree by Ohara Koson (1877 - 1945)

With poems selected from twenty-six countries, I am delighted to present the first anniversary edition, Issue III of the Shadow Pond Journal on the theme of 'Peace'.  

This issue portrays both the light and darker shades of peace, weaving together themes of nature, personal reflection, and the contrast between conflict and tranquility.

The poems also reflect the personal journeys toward inner peace, whether through meditation or the acceptance of the present moment. 

Overall, the theme invites  readers to find moments of stillness and reflection in their own lives. 

As an anniversary treat we have a special  supplemental 'amicus vel inimicus' method interview with Alan Summers.

Enjoy

Katherine
Editor

The Poems 

broken apiary...

Buddhist monk sits still

prayer beads in motion

Snigdha Agrawal, India

mother's lullaby—

the dance of blankets under

seashell chimes

Genevieve S Aguinaldo, Philippines

sun path

a hare runs

a half-circle

Farah Ali, UK

the sweet taste

of birdsong on my skin 

forest walk

Rupa Anand, India

transmigration

my breath light

as a feather

Cynthia Anderson, USA

peace in the park

spreading wings

a white crane

Wanda Amos, Australia

goodnight

those moments between

the darkness

Joanna Ashwell, UK

only if world peace was that easy origami cranes

Dr Mona Bedi, India

cicada's cry

ripples

in the holy water 

Deborah A Bennett, USA

out Matisse's window 

a preponderance 

of blues

Jerome Berglund, USA

valley birds being one with the peace hour 

Daya Bhat, India

children playing

on either side of the wall

the same marbles

Daniel Birnbaum, France

gratefulness

took negativity's space

- sun's warm rays 

Jean Bohuslav, Australia

reflection pond

a dragonfly ripples the edge

of a clock tower

Dr Randy Brooks , USA

war cannot stop

the sun from painting

rainbows

Patricia Carragon, USA

day moon-

from the edges of a leaf

dripping dewdrops 

Ram Chandran, India

morning dew

she gently pots peace lilies

in a battle-worn helm

Sandip Chauhan, USA

chilling

under the streetlight

short night

Christina Chin, Malaysia

touch of the incoming ocean clearing my cache 

Petro C.K., USA 

plus one—

in the willow

a cardinal's thrill

Shane Coppage, USA

starry night

looking at an arrangement

of daffodils

Alvin B Cruz, Philippines 

peace offering -

mother bakes me

my favourite cake 

Anne Curran, New Zealand

knotted nerves slowly unravelling the robin's song

Tracy Davidson, UK

babbling brook

sharing secrets

on tranquility

Diana Davison, Australia

 

no more

what ifs...

accepting what is

Melissa Dennison, UK

Basho’s ghost leaving –

the doves on the grave

gone with the wind

Marie Derley, Belgium

7

baby black swan splashes spring rain

Elliot Diamond, USA

listen carefully

in the morning, birdsong

between bombs

C. Jean Downer, Canada

peace lily

if only the name

were enough

Baisali Chatterjee Dutt, India 

sun filters through the rain I remember you

Tim Dwyer, Northern Ireland

a rowboat

floating in the pond

white  petals

Eavonka Ettinger, USA

long road north

the silence

of the colors

Mike Fainzilber, Israel

sea and sky

in gradient blue

peacefulness

Malgorzata Formanowska, Poland 

love finds a way

in between the paving stones

an oasis

Katja Fox, UK

rosary beads

lacing his fingers

at peace

Mike Gallagher, Ireland 

the wind shines—

my decision to become

a peace activist

Goran Gatalica, Croatia

war- torn land

a violet

under the debris

Eureka Krishanti Gunasekara, Sri Lanka 

lulling me

with her heartbeat

hazy moon

Alvaro Carrasquel Gomez, Venezuela

night rain

softly, gently falling…

my upturned face

Jennifer Gurney, USA

carrion law

the world kept safe

for blowflies

John Hawkhead, UK

broken promises

picking up the pieces

to fix peace again

Patricia Hawkhead, UK

white koi 

under the moon bridge

under the moon

Ruth Holzer, USA

wildflower breeze…

rippling petals scent

the cloudless span

Marilyn Humbert, Australia

magnolia

I plant my mother

in the garden

Morag Elizabeth Humble, Canada

round table peace conference the forest in pieces

Lakshmi Iyer, India

longing

for a fairy-tale moon

times of war

Roberta Beach Jacobson, USA

day-peep

the quiet before

the household wakes

Ingrid Jendrzejewski, UK

inner calm

working on the flaws

of the past

Govind Joshi, India

bird watching

the quiet forest

puts me to sleep

Harshvardhan Joshi, India 

espy from charpoy . . .

bashful in the banyan breeze

a mustachio moon

Monica Kakkar, India / USA 

bamboos

hands resting lazily

in the current

Emil Karla, France 

silence since yesterday

on both sides of the bridge

wives with flowers

Wiesław Karliński, Poland

wind in my hair

wave after wave

thoughts wash away

Kimberly Kuchar, USA

Māori song

the soothing sound

of whales

Douglas J Lanzo, USA

with each breath

the ebb and flow

of the sea

Melissa Laussman, USA

silence at sunrise

only the sound of breakers

—morning, lost in fog

Ron Lavalette, Canada

baby’s bath . . .

the sing-song sounds

of a new mom

Barrie Levine, USA

agitation exhales into calm

Mirjam Mahler, Germany 

prayer garden

coaxing the sound

from a peace bell

Richard Matta, USA

spring breeze

two soldiers across the border

share a matchbox

Biswajit Mishra, Canada 

homing dove

the eyes of a tanker

watching the quiet

Mircea Moldovan, Romania 

the piano moans

the player a dentist

his hands in its mouth

Devon Neal, USA

superhero gifts

in superhero gift wrap

nephew’s third birthday

J D Nelson, USA

peace doves─

even they

compete

Surya Nes, Indonesia

strawberry moon

between dreams 

a still point           

Claire Ninham, UK 

vibrant meadow

dressed in summer

dazzling under sun and moon

Gareth Nurden, Wales

communion

of dust-bathing sparrows

ceasefire

Lorraine A Padden, USA

ideas everywhere i turn

& beyond them

the world

Scott F Parker, USA

not a butterfly

a flower hidden by

the mist

Apsara Perrera, Sri Lanka 

thoughts racing

deep calming breaths –

Mu

Tim Poe, Canada

sold

by the moon's

hand-waving

Vishal Prabhu, India

so many windows

all the lives they contain -

metropolis

Carrie Magness Radna, USA

river’s edge

the heron’s lesson

on stillness

Bryan Rickert, USA

in both languages 

the sign for peace

the same

Kelly Sargent, USA

peace train

Holy Communion

           queue

Bonnie J Scherer, Alaska

en plein air

prairie grass brushes

a watercolor sky

Julie Warther Schwerin, USA

peace talks–

the children's laughter

crossing borders

Nalini Shetty, India

city garden

the bees buzz louder

than the traffic

Jenny Shepherd, UK

picture gallery

I can't hear a fly

at the exhibition

Zrinko Šimunić, Croatia

the thrum

of fighter planes...

Peace Park

Neena Singh, India.

grandmother crochets

a white circle wreath

bloodless petals

Sue Spiers, UK 

roadside tea-shop

she pops

the question

Srini, India

cloud panorama

at the feet of the red pines

dame’s rocket

Joshua St Claire , USA

green moss 

a certain softness 

in the letters of your name 

Sandra St Laurent, Canada 

the aurora

a wolf’s breath becomes

part of it

Debbie Strange, Canada

darksome, the tight-lipped wind and dog emerge a mountain of leaves

Alan Summers, UK

everyone at the table

a voice . . .

citrus meltaways

Corinne Timmer, Portugal

snow tracks

the soft impressions

that remain

C X Turner, UK 

barefoot

in the garden

my inner peace

Tuyet Van Do, Australia

night flight -

the moon among the clouds

with her macrame dress

Steliana Cristina Voicu, Romania

after the winds

the waters run

still

Anthony Ward, UK

rainbow flags

unfurling…

brighter days

Tony Williams, Scotland

chilly April walk

crab apples pink against green

each bloom a promise

Bruce E Whitacre, USA 

waiting for peace -

a storm of petals

in the garden

Juliet Wilson, Scotland

a warm breeze

across a pool of rain

the moonlight's tiny feet

Robert Witmer, Japan

even the praying mantis  

folding her hands  

for peace  

Nitu Yumnam, India

smile

her braid tangled

with a haystack

Oliwia Zarzycka, Poland

war dust...

that white dove

still visible

Ali Znaidi, Tunisia 

The Poets 

Snigda Agrawal, India
Genevieve S Aguinaldo, Philippines
Farah Ali, UK
Rupa Anand, India
Cynthia Anderson, USA
Wanda Amos, Australia
Joanna Ashwell, UK
Dr Mona Bedi, India
Deborah A Bennett, USA
Jerome Berglund, USA
Daya Bhat, India
Daniel Birnbaum, France
Jean Bohuslav, Australia
Dr Randy Brooks, USA
Patricia Carragon, USA
Ram Chandran, India
Sandip Chauhan, USA
Christina Chin, Malaysia

Petro C.K., USA 
Shane Coppage, USA

Alvin B Cruz, Philippines 
Anne Curran, New Zealand
Tracy Davidson, UK
Diana Davison, Australia
Melissa Dennison, UK 
Marie Derley, Belgium
Elliot Diamond, USA
C. Jean Downer, Canada

Baisali Chatterjee Dutt, India 
Tim Dwyer, Northern Ireland
Eavonka Ettinger, USA
Mike Fainzilber, Israel

Malgorzatà Formanowska, Poland 
Katja Fox, UK
Mike Gallagher, Ireland
Goran Gatalica, Croatia
Alvaro Carrasquel Gomez, Venezuela
Eureka Krishanti Gunasekara, Sri Lanka
Jennifer Gurney, USA
John Hawkhead, UK
Patricia Hawkhead, UK
Ruth Holzer, USA
Marilyn Humbert, Australia
Morag Elizabeth Humble, Canada
Lakshmi Iyer, India
Roberta Beach Jacobson, USA
Ingrid Jendrzejewski, UK
Govind Joshi, India

Harshvardhan Joshi, India 

Monica Kakkar, India  / USA 

Emil Karla, France  
Wiesław Karliński, Poland
Kimberly Kuchar, USA
Douglas J Lanzo, USA
Melissa Laussman, USA
Ron Lavalette, Canada
Barrie Levine, USA

Mirjam Mahler, Germany 
Richard Matta, USA

Biswajit Mishra, Canada 

Mircea Moldovan, Romania 

Devon Neal, USA
J D Nelson, USA
Surya Nes, Indonesia

Claire Ninham, UK 
Gareth Nurden, Wales
Lorraine A Padden, USA
Scott F Parker, USA

Apsara Perrera, Sri Lanka 
Tim Poe, Canada
Vishal Prabhu, India
Carrie Magness Radna, USA
Bryan Rickert, USA
Kelly Sargent, USA
Bonnie J Scherer, Alaska
Julie Warther Schwerin, USA
Nalini Shetty, India
Jenny Shepherd, UK
Zrinko Šimunić, Croatia
Neena Singh, India
Sue Spiers, UK
Debbie Strange, Canada
Srini, India
Joshua St Claire , USA
Sandra St Laurent, Canada
Alan Summers, UK
Corinne Timmer, Portugal

C X Turner, UK 
Tuyet Van Do, Australia
Steliana Cristina Voicu, Romania
Anthony Ward, UK
Tony Williams, Scotland
Bruce E Whitacre, USA
Juliet Wilson, Scotland
Robert Witmer, Japan
Nitu Yumnam, India
Oliwia Zarzycka, Poland

Ali Znaidi, Tunisia 

👁  : Alan Summers by Karen Hoy / 

Mrs Summers 

INTERVIEW WITH ALAN SUMMERS 

 

How did you come to learn about haiku? 

An unusual incident, with a dash of flippancy, and serendipity thrown in announced my calling! Least said the better though! It was instant, definitive and a visceral set of circumstances way back in early 1993, Queensland, Australia.

Did you have any mentors? 

Sadly no. The last day of leaving Australia, for England, I was invited to be a member of the Brisbane haiku group Paper Wasp (before it became international, and published a haiku journal), along with Janice Bostok. It would  have been my chance to meet a number of practitioners but it wasn’t to be.

In general, there was no one regularly helpful, quite the opposite, some of those email haiku forums were over the top aggressive. That inspired me to support and then mentor others, learning from the horrible things I witnessed as a forum user, and later as a Moderator. That early era of email forums could be unpleasant, which is why, once I had a few publication and contest results under my belt, I was able to support new voices, that were often pushed back by those who felt haiku could only be done their way. 

I supported people having fresh and different voices, which after all is what keeps the more modern genre of haiku alive.

I’ve had to be my own mentor, sometimes a little lonely I guess, but I stay open to new developments all the time, constantly challenging myself to keep myself ‘new’.

Do you have a writing process and where do you feel most inspired to write? 

My writing processes have changed, although still “multi-varied”. Before I owned a computer, or even a word-processor, or a typewriter, it was a thing called a pen, and another thing called pieces of paper. Quite literally back in the day anything with a blank side, or two, and opening up used envelopes. And as fast-food joints often have great venues, I’d nurse a barely bearable mug of coffee for an hour or two, and a gross food option, using the blank side of a tray liner! Those tray liners were magnificence, as I could write incredibly tiny, and so a single paper liner went a long way. No one rushed me to order more of that bad foodstuff, or to leave the premises. I’ll forever be grateful to a certain terrible but largish fast-food joint in Ipswich, a town just outside Brisbane, Queensland, Australia (it wasn’t an Australian food-chain by the way).

I still paper and pen with me on travels, and often take my laptop, never use my cellphone.

What haiku writers have influenced your own writing?

Many have not influenced my own writing as such, but indirectly helped, and encouraged, from Ross Clark (meeting him at his first haiku collection launch in 1993, and who indirectly helped me start haiku), to O Mabson Southard, James Hackett (who I got to meet in Japan), Janice Bostok, of course, (meeting her in New Zealand at the Haiku Pathway Official Launch), and Marlene Mountain. But I looked for the haiku, not the writer mostly, to encourage me, that something grand could come out of a postage stamp sized poem! Again I can’t or won’t ever wish to write like any haiku writer but Bill Higginson’s fabulous haiku projects, and the book review and essay on Fay Aoyagi further encouraged me to continue my own path. Bill loved my flying foxes haiku for his Haiku Seasons Project!

When did you start teaching haiku? 

Not so much teaching, but Ikkoku Santo (founder of Azami haiku journal) throughout the 1990s encouraged me to run a monthly ‘letter to poets’ highlighting haiku and their authors, in each previous issue. 

I actually would not allow myself to run a single haiku workshop, until I had studied, learnt, read hundreds of thousands (around 250,000 in the first couple of years) of hokku and haiku, and attempt to write write write, for five whole years!

So I must have run a workshop five years later around 1998/99, which would have developed into multiple workshops, plus unusual events, including late night noodle bars that combined haiku, longer poetry, and live comedic performances, sometimes when a comedic actor would stay in character throughout!

Then a national UK poetry organisation hired me, and myself and Karen Hoy ran a number of sell out day courses, and we also ran our own sell out week-long residential courses running through all the different haikai genres and late night renga!

We started our very first online workshop by chance when a group of poets writing for children booked us, and they were from all different parts of the UK. That might have been around 2008 when we changed our name from Naked Haijin Productions (well, we did live in the media city of Bristol, England, and I was inspired by Jamie Oliver aka The Naked Chef in 1999!). We then decided to have a website and a new name of With Words:The new name also saw us running multiple online courses, as well as travelling around Britain with in person events, workshops, and continuing to run occasional unusual events. 

Moving to another new town, we decided on a more distinctive and unique name: We spent a long afternoon at a café, with a big notebook and wrote down hundreds and hundreds of names. I didn’t see anything that day, that grabbed me, though when I quietly sat down a couple of days later, slowly going through the names, one jumped out, and of course it was one suggested by Karen! Call of the Page was born, along with a new website, and as Karen’s chronic illness went up and down, we continued with a big programme of online courses rather than constant travelling. 

We regularly get sold out courses booked by those from USA, Canada, parts of Europe, and Asia, and more and more UK poets too! We love those courses, and how Karen sets them up. We love the 1-1 video workshops which are a mix of conversation, and regularly re-reading and reading out each haiku, from different directions, and always a little humour which is needed in this more and more challenging world! 

What advice would you give to someone new to haiku? 

Reading isn’t enough in my opinion. I could understand haiku easily, even in those first few days and years, and deconstruct them too. Yet I felt I could never write one as successfully as the ones I read, admired, and connected with, ones that just “clicked” somehow. 

Even basic deconstruction didn’t at first help me as to why something worked. Now I don’t feel so bad as I read somewhere that most successful songwriters don’t know why their lyrics (and music) succeed in some cases. 

I’ve tried various methods of breaking down some haiku as to why they succeeded. Those on Call of the Page courses, and one-to-ones, will know I will sometimes break down even further, going deeper. 

Let’s see with this Touchstone Award nominated haiku:

why do we kiss

under the mistletoe

snow angels

Alan Summers

Shadow Pond Journal ed. Katherine E Winnick (November 2023)

a biannual journal of haiku and senryu

Interestingly, with the amicus vel inimicus method of mine where we check if each word of our own haiku in progress really work together, we can see if it’s the same case with something published:

why = interrogative adverb (gosh, an adverb, we shouldn’t have them!)

do = auxiliary verbs (oh no, another perceived rule broken?)

we = plural personal pronoun

kiss = action verb!

under = preposition (one of those little heroes of grammar, and haiku!)

the = definite article (before a noun so identity is known) It’s also an adjective!

mistletoe = noun (associated with Christmas, hence a poetic seasonal marker)

snow = noun (associated with winter/Christmas but also Spring)

angels = mythical beings, term used for humans who do good

snow angels:

Imprints are often made by humans for fun, or sadly war casualties during winter season attacks.

Non-human snow angels:

Some birds leave something similar to snow angels. Weddell seals can leave outlines of themselves, similar to a snow angel, perhaps to thumb their nose at the cold.

why do we kiss

under the mistletoe

In Norse culture, the Mistletoe plant was a sign of love and peace. It’s also a symbol of fertility and life—and this could be why we kiss underneath it. In the Winter, trees are bare, many plants have died away, though mistletoe stays green and vibrant with those white berries so sharp in contrast. 

I can see that the haiku could have worked as a vertical single line, one word at a time, or as a duostich with ‘snow angels’ as the second line. All versions work for me but there is something about the chosen tercet’s line breaks that bring out even more, in my eyes at least. 

Is it a two-line phrase starting the haiku, or a fragment, is the middle line a pivot? Sometimes. Maybe it’s a question of why do we kiss, is it love, connectedness, longing or loss. It’s never really just one thing, is it?

Do you have any favourite haiku of yours that you'd like to share?

“There are no favourite haiku only the ones our conscience can bear us to live with in the moment.” A new quote from me!

There is one forthcoming that was rejected by many journals, perhaps too charged for some editors. It’s about injustice. Perhaps there’ll be an opportunity to talk about it one day.

Many of my haiku have more than one meaning, so this one has been popular:

blue stutter rain

how the God Lens 

switches foliage

Alan Summers

Publication credit:

Password issue 1.2 ed. Melissa Allen (May 31, 2024)

You are invited to attempt the amicus vel inimicus method with this one!

Alan Summers

founder, Call of the Page

www.callofthepage.org

🎨  : The Third Month (Sangatsu) from the series Fashionable Beauties for the Five Festivals (Fûryû bijin Gosekku) by Kikugawa Eizan (菊川 英山?, 1787 – 1867).

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Copyright : Shadow Pond Journal 

Editor : Katherine E Winnick