Holy Night

I wrote this haibun in September at the Workshop on ekphrasis at Belconnen Art Centre during the University of Canberra's Poetry in the Move Conference. It came from an exercise requiring a poem in response to one of the paintings exhibited near the reception area. Rikki Fisher's beautiful,  sensitive scratchwork stood out from the rest and the poem simply tumbled out. I sent it to Ian Storr, Editor of the classy UK journal Presence, and he was accepted it.  Ian was happy to include Rokki's link with the poem.

Presence is now available, so I can share 'Holy Night'. Thank you Rikki and Ian, for the opportunity to respond to this exquisite piece and have in print before Christmas.. So right for the time - the terrible repeal of legislation that originally recognized sentience in animals. The link for Rikki's work is here for you to enjoy.

Holy Night

In response to 'My Protector': artwork by Rikki Fisher. 

              http://waba.net.au/2017-members-exhibition

Caged in biblical myths, a zoo monkey rocks her young.  She wraps the child in silence, eyes resigned to what might come. He's the Chosen One, facing the world and its sorrows. Scratching at the tip of an answer. 

Little monkey, can you save us? What will be your Calvary? Wired to a rocket, shot to a star? Locked in a wise man's lab? Shepherded into a circus ring? Or jailed so we can gape at our transgressions? 

Just for this moment you're safe, clutching the Madonna.

holy night

angels bandage

the future

              Hazel Hall
              Australia

Prune Juice November 2017

These haiku were published recently. Thanks to editor Steve Hodge:

Remembrance Day

father's old uniform

looks so small

tone on tone

the neighbourhood dogs'

nightly fugue

ink cartridge

my identity

left everywhere

corn roast

the width of his grin

as the cob turns

 - Prune Juice November 2017, p. 65.

An Aussie Blessing

I wrote this poem back in 2014 for my sister's birthday. It seems to be resonating with a few people. Since it's being passed around a bit, I'm putting it up here. (No, it's not tanka, just five-line stanzas with a common rhyme):

An Aussie Blessing

I wish you
a blue lapis sky
a sun-smile
winding through grasses
on a bushland path

a choir
of magpies singing
Christmas carols
a country kitchen
with blackened hearth

seventy
different scented roses
a eucalypt
decorated with threads
of a kookaburra's laugh

happy scraps 
of soon, now and past
a string of pearls
from psalms that chant
inside your heart

Hazel Hall 13.3.2014

The Last Rhino

This poem was published in Skryptic Magazine 2, 2017.

The last rhino

. . . came charging from the sky 

with coal-fire eyes 

skin thicker than belief

snorting poison till a cloud

of grey-white powder filled the air

more deadly than asbestos 

or mass-destruction rockets 

it trampled 

on apothecaries 

and store rooms holding 

caches of natural remedies

ripped libraries 

of wellness texts apart

then stopped in front of me 

as if it sensed I'd signed 

one of those on line-petitions-

shared posts 

with other bleeding hearts-

pressed like as if 

that might trigger action 

from some green politician

time joined in silently 

as I gazed down 

the bloody gaping hole 

where once a horn had been

and heard the cracks  

of gunshots 

from fellow human beings

Passage

This haibun appeared in the October issue of Cattails on page 72:

Passage

almost evening

jasmine and ashes 

make everything clear

             

We sit In a small shop in a narrow lane eating delicious saffron and pistachio lassi served in throw-away clay pots with wooden spoons. 

Every ten minutes solemn chanting is heard. First the wood-bearers hurry past. Then a procession. On the shoulders of four men is a mat attached to bamboo poles. 

The precious bundle is gilded with tinsel and marigolds. Behind comes a group of mourners, more logs and a cow that just happens to be ambling nearby.

They pass. So close you could touch them. Then they've gone.

that second

before emptiness

a light breeze

We dispose of our remains in the recycling pit. Time to look for transport home. 

charcoal sky

ending the journey 

before last light

Editor's Choice, Cattails October 2017

I was honoured to receive an Editor's Choice award in Cattails, October 2017,  p. 56, for this poem:

her degree
in microbiology
from Nepal
how carefully she cleans 

hospital bathrooms 

This tanka by Hazel Hall brings up so many emotions. It is sad and poignant, heartfelt. It aches with unfulfilled dreams. Yet it is also full of simple pride. The poem contains so much dignity and self-respect. All of these feelings can be found in this tanka, but they are never stated. Hazel expertly shows these through action, word choice and structure. 

It is an unassuming tanka that says so much about resilience and cross-border qualifications. About how we see ourselves. How we see others. Through Hazel's words we can visualise this woman, feel her values, and be physically moved by her plight. 

Hazel has structured this tanka to include a very effective pivot in line 3. And the tanka builds, line by line, to paint a vivid scene where we can empathise with this woman. The tanka flows gently, is unhurried, careful to unfold in due course. Much like the careful and unhurried approach this woman has to her cleaning. She takes care not to rush, to ensure it is done to the best of her ability. How "carefully" she cleans because she understands the nature of infection through her education. How carefully Hazel structures her poem because she understands the sensibilities of tanka. 

This is another outstanding tanka from the current journal that will linger with each reading.

David Terelinck

Vancouver Cherry Blossom Festival 2017

International Honourable Mention

cherry blossom

a little kick

beneath her rib

Hazel Hall

Australia

Museum of Literature

I was thrilled to receive my copy of the classy Blithe Spirit edited by Shrikaanth K. Murthy. And surprised to find myself with an honourable mention for the Museum of Literature Haiku Award for this ku, thanks to David Kelly:

pallbearer

trying to fill

his father's shoes

Other runners up were Bob Lucky, John Rowlands, Phillip Morell, Helen Buckingham and John Gonzales. 

The winning poem is just beautiful. It's by Kohjin Sakamoto:

spring morning . . .

ploughing the warm air

into the soil

Bush Stone Curlew to become part of an educational resoutce

Happy that Bush Stone Curlew, originally written for the Bimblebox Project will now to be included in a school education resource for the Nature Conservation Working Group's (NCWG) Bush Stone-curlew project. 

http://www.bushstonecurlew.com.au/about

The resource will contain an array of fact and activity sheets to help primary school students learn all about Bush Stone-curlews, their threats, why they are an important part of the Aussie bush and what is being done to help them.

The resource will be used by NCWG (a non-profit, non- government, environmental group) to raise awareness of the BSC and available on both theirs and the Wirraminna Environmental Education Centre website (http://www.wirraminna.org.au ).

Another haiku from eggshell sky 2017

From my new collection eggshell sky 2017

full moon
the family circle
widens

From my new collection eggshell sky 2017

Silent Night

This haibun was published in Blythe Spirit, February 2017.
Thanks to editor Shrikaanth Krishnamurthy. I read it at Manning Clark House.

Silent Night

Our petitions and demonstrations are useless. The government knows it's on a winner. Jobs and growth. That's what politicians want. A well known mining tycoon and his consortium have bought a million acres of prime coastal grazing land from its original owners. 

Soon huge machines are sucking up all available peace.

In the factory, portions of pristine soil are placed in mason jars. Each allocation measures exactly one centimetre in depth. Freshly harvested peace blows into the containers, each sealed hermetically and labeled Peace on Earth. 

You can't buy it here, but countries all round the world are clamouring for the product. 

silent night 

under patent

the evening star

Hazel Hall