
We
are five years old! Founded in January 2007, Shamrock Haiku Journal has
since been published quarterly. On this occasion, we have prepared SHAMROCK
HAIKU JOURNAL: 2007 – 2011, a print edition of the twenty
issues of
Shamrock, the Journal of the Irish Haiku Society, as they appeared on
the Shamrock website. This paper-based collection comprises works by
248
authors representing 38
countries. It covers the full range of
English-language
haiku, from classic to experimental styles, as well as
haibun and selected essays
on haiku.
The
translated haiku that appeared regularly in Shamrock over the last
five years are not included in this book, as we hope to arrange a
separate publication for
them.


Shamrock
Haiku Journal: 2007 – 2011
Edited by Anatoly Kudryavitsky.
Copyright
© 2007 – 2011 by Shamrock Haiku Journal.
All
rights reserved.
Published
in Dublin, Ireland.
Printed
in the United Kingdom.
Price
€15.98
ISBN 978-1-4709-3830-7
Trade
paperback. 240 pp.
6"x9", perfect binding.
Preview available here
Shamrock Haiku Journal
Readers' Choice Awards
We invite all the readers of Shamrock Haiku Journal
to vote for the best haiku/senryu poem published in 2011, i.e. in the
issues SEVENTEEN to TWENTY (you cannot vote for your own poem, though).
To
vote, send an e-mail to irishhaikusociety[at]gmail.com with
"Best haiku of 2011" or "Best senryu of 2011" in the subject line.
Please insert the full text of the poem you vote for (only ONE poem in
each category) plus the name of its author in the body of your e-mail.
The deadline for vote is 28th February, 2012. The
best poems will be named in the next issue of Shamrock Haiku Journal.
the last flicker
of the last Sabbath candle
a winter night
cold spring rain…
plants have grown around
the roadside cross
Haiku Poetry Day
the solstice wind rustles
the prayer strips
-- Bruce Ross (USA)
last leaves
a mistle thrush holds
its rain-soaked pose
the robin’s bill opened
by the softest of songs
September dawn
hail and snow
the weathered-apple hues
of a fieldfare’s breast
-- John Barlow (England)
gibbous moon...
a loggerhead turtle
lumbers from the sea
afternoon hush
a king parrot sways
on a seed-bell
the scent
of autumn...
melon moon
-- Jo McInerney (Australia)
crow song
searching the sky
for an answer
spring breeze
the bare head
of a dandelion
blue sky
nose deep
in a spider’s web
-- Graham
Nunn (Australia)
honeysuckle
the odour
of spent petals
ninth floor
a series of pictures
of grasses
-- Quendryth Young (Australia)
open jonquil
the drunken zigzag
of a bee
first warm day
the spots of green on
snowdrop petals
-- Jan Dobb (Australia)
beauty of the mist
waterfall
where the rafters died
yesterday’s hailstorm –
same song
different meadowlark
-- Steven Carter (USA)
twilight
the deep glow of coals
from the grill
silverfish
on then off
the ceiling fan
-- Ben Moeller-Gaa (USA)
waves
rushing in
rushing out
-- John McManus (England)
white light
through the curtain’s chink
the sound of scraping snow
-- Irene Brown (Scotland)
misty morning
the campfire smoke
clings to the pines
--
Michael Ketchek (USA)
cabin fever
a sheet of snow
slides off the roof
-- Jay Friedenberg (USA)
passing storm
ripping to pieces
old photos
--
Elizabeth Moura (USA)
the beggar's plea
a blossom clings
to a broken branch
-- Robert Lucky (USA – Ethiopia)
meadowlark's voice
crossing the path
ahead of me
--
Ayaz Daryl Nielsen (USA)
spring rain
releasing the scent
of the forest
-- Alan Bridges (USA)
waiting
an old snag lightens
branch by broken branch
-- Frances Jones (USA)
beetle gingerly down a staircase of orange mushrooms
-- Bill Cooper (USA)
dog day's night –
just me and Milo
barking at the moon
-- J.D. Heskin (USA)
Colosseum
guides counting heads
at the exit
-- Marleen Hulst (the
Netherlands)
sparring gear –
bags of fallen leaves
in a row
-- Tzetzka Ilieva (Bulgaria –
USA)
leaving home now
the sound of a scythe
uprooting rabbits
--
Noel King (Ireland)
scent of roses –
a wind tunnel
in the grass
-- Sharon Burrell (Ireland)
wet pavement –
upon meeting we stop
the spider and I
-- Marion Clarke (Ireland)
swan song
the lake holds
the sound
--
Brid Sibley (Ireland)
midnight
a snail paints
the moonlit canvas
-- Janak Sapkota (Nepal)
steaming rice
served on banana leaves…
he loosens his tie
-- Kala
Ramesh (India)
pale moon –
garbage darkens
the Ganges
-- P. K. Padhy (India)

at the edge of the town
a granny and a moggy
spinning silence
-- Malvina Mileta (Croatia;
translated from the Croatian by Anatoly Kudryavitsky)
deserted village –
between the gusts of wind,
a dog’s bark
postman
sorting snowflakes
in his huge bag
-- Marija
Pogorilic (Croatia; translated from the Croatian by Djurdja
Vukelic-Rosic and Anatoly Kudryavitsky)
desolate house
moonlit cobwebs
on the pane
-- Marija
Pogorilic (Croatia; translated from the Croatian by Anatoly
Kudryavitsky)
leaking roof –
the cat drinks
from buckets and tubs
field of crown daisies
embracing the yellowness
of the rising sun
chess-board
a black beetle takes the place
of the white queen
drizzling
parrots perched on branches
form a rainbow
moss in the yard
awaiting rain
to climb up the walls
sun comes out –
clouds jump
from puddle to puddle
frozen sea
words on the page
melting as you read
-- Terence Portelli (Malta,
translated from the Maltese by the author)
light over the sea
brighter than over the shore –
the sky breathing
pond water changed
a few dead fish
left behind
gull standing on one leg
in the sea water
not feeling the cold
this winter day,
folds of the ground frost-hardened –
tomorrow’s forecast: thaw
in the park, birds sing,
an orchestra plays –
they don’t hear each other
four empty chairs
by a table on the lawn –
awaited guests
scorched grass
sprayed with the lashing rain
water makes birds sing
-- Herman van Rompuy (Belgium;
translated from the Flemish by Anatoly Kudryavitsky)
chewing shadows
the morning falls
on the pasture
dew on the car window
all the letters
I never sent
simple dreams –
surrounded by ripe wheat,
a poppy
wet horse
a field where
the rainbow spread
cannonball
from a long-forgotten war
wandering moon
--
David Rosen (Sweden; translated from the Swedish by Anatoly
Kudryavitsky)
black oyster
the night devours the redness
of a tired sun
-- Lino Spiteri (Malta;
translated from the Maltese by the author)

"New Year" by Shinyo Onchi
(Japan)

Pollution
by Ignatius
Fay (Canada)
Not
that old, really, he walks the
same route at the same time each day carrying his oxygen tank. His
wide-brimmed
Tilley on his head and aided by a gnarled walking stick almost thicker
than he
is, he has become a fixture on the street these past twenty-five years.
Anyone
who uses that thoroughfare in mid-afternoon has come to expect him.
He suffers from lung and, now, heart disease and should be long dead.
Twenty-five years ago, when they removed most of his left lung, they
said the
disease would kill him within four years. His response was to ask what
he could
do to maximize his stay on the planet. They told him.
And damned if he didn’t go home and do what they told him to do! And he
continues to do it.
So, he walks every day. He carries a net cloth bag attached to his tank
with a
carabiner. As he encounters them, he slowly and carefully bends to pick
up
recyclable pieces of trash and stuffs them in his bag. He pauses at the
bus
stops to empty his bag into the appropriate recycling bins. He believes
if you
are not part of the solution, you are part of the pollution.
huge iguana
draped over his shoulder
waiting for the bus

Fairy Tale Forest
by Steven
Carter (USA)
Another
dodge that doesn’t work, or work very well: tippling cold Polanaise
brand vodka
(straight) in the morning. Polish vodka is the best in the world (trust
me:
better than Russian), and with time on my hands, it’s way too tempting,
My
Fulbright lecture schedule at the Marie Curie-Sklodowska University is
once a
week, and I can’t wait for Thursdays to roll around.
Crossword
puzzles don’t make the nut either – I mean, how many can you do before
depression comes creeping out yet again, like weasels from beneath the
antediluvian TV (which, heaven help me, doesn’t work).
I
know I’m in trouble when, walking back to my apartment past the ebony
statue of
Marie and through the miniature forest toward my apartment on
Skowiniego
Street, I notice that the sun is significantly lower in the sky at 2
p.m. Toto,
I don’t think we’re in California any more. So now we have the long
Polish
night coming on, exacerbated by coal smoke and lowering skies… I ask
Sean
Molloy, the Irish professor who’s been here for six years, what his
secret to
getting through last winter was. He says, “Simple: I read
Gibbon’s The
Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire – all seven volumes;
twice.”
night wind from Ukraine
from the ancient forest
a scream
a beautiful graveyard
1000 candles –
Day
of the Dead
DOGHOUSE Books have a
limited number of copies left of two collections of haiku poems by two
Irish haijin:
John
W
Sexton.
Shadows Bloom. DOGHOUSE Books. Reviewed here
Anatoly
Kudryavitsky.
Morning at Mount Ring. DOGHOUSE Books. Reviewed here
Anatoly
Kudryavitsky. Capering Moons. DOGHOUSE Books, 2011.
Reviewed here
One can get them
postage
free for the price of €12 to anywhere in the world.
Also, check out here
the range of poetry books and anthologies we've published.
DOGHOUSE Books
PO Box 312
Tralee
Co. Kerry
Ireland
Tel: +353 (0)66 7137547
Fax: +353 (0)66 7137547
info[at]doghousebooks.ie

Copyright
© by Shamrock
Haiku Journal. All rights reserved. All the Shamrock
Haiku Journal contents
are copyright by the indicated poets/artists. All the rights
revert to the authors and artists upon publication in Shamrock.
Any unauthorised copying of the contents of Shamrock
Haiku Journal is
strictly forbidden. The Shamrock logo
image is copyright © by Christine Zeytounian-Belous (Paris, France).
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