Sunday, 21 October 2018

Vancouver Cherry Blossom Festival


I'm delighted to receive an honourable mention in the Vancouver Cherry Blossom Festival Haiku Awards for this haiku:

at her bedside
a child she once knew
cherry blossoms

Hazel Hall
Australia








Thursday, 18 October 2018

Moonlight over the Siding

I'm thrilled that my collection of published tanka, Moonlight over the Siding was recently accepted for publication by Interactive Press. Each subsection has a coloured image by the late Robert (Bob) Tingey, Antarctic geologist and author of The Geology of Antarctica (1991). Thanks to his wife Nancy for photographing the images. Bob received the Australian Antarctic Medal for services to Australia's Antarctic Program in 1990. Thanks to IP publisher Dr David Reiter for designing the beautiful cover.

Not surprisingly, one of the Bob's best known images is 'Antarctic Waters'. It has been exhibited in the gallery at the Visitors' Centre in the National Botanic Gardens. Here is the poem I chose for it:

beneath the breakers
a hermit crab chooses
an empty shell
I didn't appreciate
the depth of your pain


Click these links to find out more:







Step By Step

Recently I collaborated with Angelina Egan to produce a chapbook of Tai Chi steps (Yang form), Step by Step. It shows the 24 steps, demonstrated by Angie and photographed by her daughter Bethany, with a meditative haiku related to each one. An inexpensive gift for Tai Chi lovers.


My gratitude to fellow poet Gregory Piko who read and commented before printing and has reviewed Step by Step  on his website:


Thanks also to Chrissi Villa, editor of the online haiku and tanka journal Frameless Sky,who featured a full video of Step by Step, read by me and demonstrated by Angie.

Saturday, 29 September 2018

Stamped with the Caption


This poem was published Wild, a new anthology edited by Ann Nadge and published by Ginninderra Press.


 My home is under a railway bridge;
I shuffle about in the dust.
Now and then visitors offer bananas
in hesitant finger-filled fear.
Occasionally they might pay for a ride
then all the iPhones will click.
Souvenirs are available, made from fake leather
or plastic, transported from factories in Dacca . . .

Each evening I hobble along with my keeper
down to the river to wash,
disco lights on tourist boats winking.
People on deck point and wave.
Activists want me returned to the wild
(plantations have taken its place).
Supporters assembling with slogans on placards
are handcuffed and hurled into cells for their trouble . . .

Deep in my memory an image persists
where there's nothing but foliage and trees.
Shadows of animals pass in the distance;
I trumpet, but none of them hears.
Wrap me in all the green places you've seen
as years of my life lumber on.
Go home in that tee shirt. The one with my picture,
stamped with the caption I LOVE . . .

Hazel Hall

Dalit

I was very pleased to have this poem  published in Not Very Quiet 2, 2018.

A woman is asleep upon the path.
So close. The concrete holds her like a bier:
Hair combed neatly, faded sari rests
over tired bones and leathered skin.
Scraps of chatter. Shadows glide and cast
fleeting nonchalance across this drear
concrete patch, immaculately swept
where nearby rupees flick and vendors grin.

Thousands, millions hurry through each vast
metropolis where lost ones disappear
into subways, when the damp has pressed
its hand on swags and human hopes are thin,
One day she'll join the others noiselessly.
She could be anyone.
Perhaps she's me.

Hazel Hall