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The Selection Process Anybody may nominate their own or others' haiku for inclusion in The Dreaming Collection. And the Editor searches publications for good material. Nominated haiku will normally have been published and thus have passed the judgement of an editor or judge. The Dreaming Editor then selects the best of these based on the criteria of: (1) quality, (2) relevance. The Dreaming Collection is held to about 200 haiku. For each haiku added, a haiku must be retired to the Dreaming Archives. In selecting those to be retired the Editor is advised by Peer Reviews. Peer Reviews This is a vital step in keeping The Collection fresh, topical and constantly improving. Peer Reviews make room for new work to be seen while preserving the best of what is now there. Please take part. Email me ( John Bird, Editor ) in confidence, and say which ten haiku you think should be archived to allow new haiku to be displayed. It's that simple but so important. If you would like to tell me which haiku particularly appealed to you then that too would be helpful. You can work from the haiku in context (home) or from the list below where every haiku has a discrete number for easy reference. |
| Haiku # 002 |
yellowing fields hovering not hovering the nankeen kestrels |
| Haiku # 003 |
summer heat a lorikeet sips nectar from the flame tree |
| Haiku # 010 |
breathing the silence before the catbird calls first light |
| Haiku # 011 |
the thump-thump of the wonga-wonga pigeon echoes in my head |
| Haiku # 012 |
traffic snarl– galahs on the phone line upside down |
| Haiku # 0013 |
storm birds crying into the thunder |
| #016 |
bare twigs- flurry of the swamphens' mating dance |
| #018 |
black cockatoos – the distant rumble of Harleys |
| #019 |
cold moon the panel beater's dog howls at a hubcap |
| #020 |
spring morning Dog and I exchange silly grins |
| #021 |
old queenslander its verandah posts stained by dogs |
| #025 |
old ute a bow legged Blue master of the tray |
| #026 |
dust storm the red kelpie blending in |
| #027 |
barking dogs the swaggie's progress through town |
| #029 |
frosty shadows— a shorn sheep clatters down the ramp |
| #032 |
late spring lambs play in the slaughter yard |
| #035 |
a dingo howls— the orphaned lamb's rough tongue |
| #038 |
sheep country – passing clouds graze the hilltop |
| #039 |
abandoned farm— tufts of wool snagged on barbed wire |
| #040 |
summer twilight kangaroos boxing on the golf course |
| #045 |
sunrise a dandelion droops from the wallaby's mouth |
| #046 |
pregnant again... the fluttering of moths against the window |
| #049 |
water dragon on a head-high post— the pulse in its neck |
| #050 |
summer rain a treefrog's feet white on the window |
| #052 |
lifting mist- the bunyip dissolves into a tree fern |
| #054 |
lingering sunset – a flying fox stretches one wing |
| #056 |
new dawn – the aborigine casts a long shadow |
| #058 |
dot by dot she paints yam dreaming— the billy boils over |
| #059 |
rock face a red ochre handprint above graffiti |
| #060 |
sacred site – lantana overruns the melaleuca |
| #063 |
mother and son sit with their interpreter— breeze stirs the dust |
| #064 |
rock carvings honey ants follow the grooves |
| #065 |
Didgeridoo an emerging cicada shakes-a-leg |
| #066 |
Sorry Day a breeze stirs the gum?s leaves |
| #072 |
Port Arthur ruins a green rosella flies between the bars |
| #075 |
waiting for dawn the bugler's breath rising |
| #078 |
Anzac Day a baby's cry fills our minute's silence |
| #081 |
sprigs of rosemary something about the tea urn makes me cry |
| #083 |
padding up – all seagulls face the city end |
| #087 |
hills hoist – a leg of his karate suit kicks in the breeze |
| #088 |
floodlit field a cane toad crouched in the goal mouth |
| #091 |
ninth tee— a kookaburra laughs in my backswing |
| #092 |
fish story a cormorant spreads its wings w i d e r |
| #093 |
lying on its side near the tavern Southern Cross |
| #094 |
Port Fairy wharf a trail of fish scales leads to the pub |
| #095 |
beer garden table the blurred edges of many circles |
| #098 |
summer haze dried beer foam in my empty glass |
| #099 |
outback pub the aftertaste of bulldust |
| #100 |
gentle swell- a pregnant woman floats by |
| #101 |
monsoon— the bark gunyah left to rot |
| #102 |
slab hut – Sporting Globe pages fill the gaps |
| #104 |
veranda bed corrugated sky nailhole stars |
| #109 |
nursing home she asks what's beyond the next roof |
| #110 |
beach sunset a frangipani trodden into wet sand |
| #112 |
reef dive a turtle climbs green water into the blue |
| #113 |
old dinghy sinks under waves of dune grass |
| #115 |
seaside bench – an old man looks for sand between his toes |
| #119 |
white beach- the old shipwreck's rust stains |
| #121 |
back from the beach unpacking the summer heat |
| #124 |
fishing harbour- one wooden post without a pelican |
| #125 |
in the clear water only their shadows - jellyfish |
| #126 |
sukuu te-no kurage-ya seimeisen fukaku picking up a jellyfish... my lifeline clear and deep |
| #128 |
underwater observatory the grouper's eye level with mine |
| #131 |
lapping water– shadows of mangroves push against the tide |
| #133 |
billabong – a dragonfly darts pose to pose |
| #134 |
red dawn the fisherman's hands gutting the mullet |
| #136 |
way up there between skyscrapers clouds getting away |
| #139 |
city corner wind flares a monk's robes— skinny legs |
| #144 |
city street the briefest touch of a stranger's hand |
| #145 |
amongst the graffiti a tiny violet clinging |
| #146 |
my neighbour finishes our dividing fence – a last wave |
| #147 |
suburban loneliness the incessant spinning of rotary clothes hoists |
| #148 |
convalescence noticing the bark patterns for the first time |
| #151 |
laundry day – a magpie on the clothesline singing down rain |
| #154 |
school tuckshop the drone of bees at the bubblers |
| #155 |
for an hour the moon hangs with the singlets |
| #156 |
by its silence wedge-tailed eagle shadow- warns the valley |
| #157 |
stud farm ~ riderless horses running for themselves |
| #159 |
wheat field sound of wind stilled by rain |
| #160 |
heat wave – under the wheat truck a magpie's eyes |
| #162 |
moves his swag to the other shoulder– the long paddock |
| #163 |
dairy farm – in the dry paddock two cars for sale |
| #164 |
rivergum shade the bushie's laptop on his swag |
| #165 |
farm sale a butterfly settles on the good china |
| #167 |
saltpan the deep creases round his eyes |
| #168 |
crescent moon– the fence rider stays on his side |
| #169 |
desert heat – the blue-tongue lizard sheds a skin |
| #175 |
stargazing . . . the camp oven glows red |
| #176 |
desert sky - wishing I knew more about everything |
| #177 |
woodfire flickering in the silence corralled horses |
| #178 |
drought the last bullet shines |
| #181 |
beach banksia – all the shades of dying |
| #187 |
night shift over the poinciana's warm glow |
| #188 |
winter park the metal nametags of dormant plants |
| #189 |
changing the clocks a tinge of pink on the christmas bush |
| #192 |
roadworks... a cow watches a fence post |
| #193 |
behind the fence of the former zoo wildflowers |
| #194 |
paddock gate open a line-up of galahs on the fence wire |
| #195 |
the calf's fur licked into curls – woodstove smoke |
| #196 |
kangaruu ikki-ni kawa-o kozokotosh a kangaroo clears the creek in one big leap New Year's Eve |
| #199 |
hanasugi-no usagi-o dakeba myaku uteri blossoms almost gone the rabbit i hold close quickens its pulse |
| #200 |
small town – no fence around the cemetery |
| #201 |
dawn shadows— a crow rides the windmill back to the trough |
| #203 |
dawn sky steam from the lamb's throat |
| #204 |
that distant ridge I?ll never climb... autumn rain |
| #205 |
country town a railway station without tracks |
| #208 |
the dead centre— a disappearing roadtrain lowers the stars |
| #209 |
rotting fence post the big flood's mark still there |
| #210 |
lorikeet chatter she ups the volume on the talk show |
| #214 |
last rites – incense dilutes the reek of irish whiskey |
| #215 |
2 year old the sun through his ears |
| #216 |
in deep shade of the catholic church a protestant's dog |
| #217 |
realtor's window— bare branches subdivide the seashore |
| #223 |
fog skyscrapers all the same height |
| #224 |
rainy afternoon an ibis slots into a row of ibises |
| #225 |
heat haze the miles of boundary fence |
| #226 |
bay shallows a starfish moves its fingers over mine |
| #230 |
cave wall the outline of an empty hand |
| #231 |
sitting by the brisbane river listening to your muddy confessions |
| #233 |
conversion - the sun falls between goalposts |
| #234 |
one lane bridge a stray sheep has right of way |
| #237 |
one egg rattling in the pot autumn rain |
| #239 |
dusk, a surfboard comes in to the beach alone |
| #240 |
head first in the garbage bin sacred ibis |
| #241 |
old windmill gap-toothed |
| #242 |
turn of the tide - the sea taking back its jellyfish |
| #243 |
bare frangipani a rake against the fence |
| #244 |
good friday - four pelicans corner a school of mullet |
| #246 |
path to the outhouse - wild roses |
| #247 |
St Kilda Esplanade the chihuahua?s master walking tall |
| #250 |
spring fever the commodore cruising to a stereo's throb |
| #253 |
easter monday fresh flowers on the roadside |
| #254 |
rejection letter - the willy-wagtail flicks its tail |
| #256 |
sandy feet the drag of family medals on his tee shirt |
| #259 |
forty in the shade the rainwater tank rings hollow |
| #260 |
a fallow field as yesterday the kite hovers |
| #261 |
the rusted hooks in Dad's tackle box - spring tide |
| #262 |
busy road – sparrows drinking from a stone horse trough |
| #263 |
Georgian house – touching the convict broad arrow on a step |
| #264 |
a pelican skims the waves sunday paper |
| #265 |
two years of drought another pause in the conversation |
| #266 |
rough floorboards resting shearers share their silence |
| #267 |
a woolly back clamped between long legs - click go the cameras |
| #268 |
shearer at work the sheep's world upside down |
| #269 |
red dust road a cattle truck reaches the vanishing point |
| #270 |
the spring in a wattle spray Silvereyes |
| #271 |
total fire ban a rat's nest in the unlit bonfire |
| #272 |
naked sky three Morton Bay Figs sawn to a log pile |
| #273 |
Archibald prize - the private schoolgirls smell of pencil shavings |
| #274 |
dodging a march wind boomerang |
| #275 |
red moon the calligraphy of charred trees |
| #276 |
Christmas barbecue the smell of bushland burning |
| #279 |
empty field a rabbit a rabbit |
| #280 |
bushfire ash the naked shapes of rock |
| #281 |
out of black silence the wobble of a burnt lamb |
| #282 |
a splash of yellow standing against the firestorm |
| #283 |
days later – still the smell of burnt things |
| #284 |
tent-city ... a girl's smile from inside the fireman's jacket |
| #285 |
Anzacs – the glint of pennies spinning |
| #286 |
sunshine – my child finds the blue in a crow’s feather |
| #287 |
evening hush a kangaroo hops the ridgeline |
| #290 |
powerlines – starlings and sports shoes rest abut |
| #291 |
foot on knee, spear in ground a penny stamp |
| #292 |
bitter monday he feeds his team scarf to the office shredder |
| #293 |
internet: the pleasure of googling old enemies |
| #295 |
new year sweeping up the Christmas beetles |
| #296 |
nest-building – a magpie sings with its mouth full |
| #297 |
jacana a drop of water rolls back and forth |
| #298 |
the bare branches alive with cockatoos she has her good days |
| #299 |
hum of blowflies blood from the kangaroo’s ear yet to dry |
| #300 |
Remembrance Day Grandpa in white singlet with medals |
| #301 |
the farmer calls his kelpie home . . . flame trees darken |
| #303 |
beach cricket – bluebottles linger in afternoon shadows |
| #305 |
galahs on the sight screen the batsman appeals |
| #306 |
summer heat the bush turkey pauses in my shadow |
| #307 |
water restrictions — sharing the shower with ants |
| #308 |
Sunday morning a dog sniffs the base of the goal-post |
| #309 |
Anzac sunrise the old bugler's lips quiver |
| #310 |
the old dog at the school gate … winter rain |
| #311 |
boomerang my fingers read its journey |
| #312 |
jagged wingtips the smooth flight of a black cockatoo |
| #313 |
walking the breakwall a stingray keeping pace |
| #315 |
billabong … a tremulous light on the gums |
| #316 |
afternoon heat the race caller's voice keeps rising |
| #317 |
holiday crowds– a wombat ambles through the snowgums |
| #318 |
snow gum belt the brumby mare nudges her foal to stand |
| #319 |
dissolved in damp garden weeds junk mail |
| #320 |
night match the scrum leaves behind its steam |
| #321 |
solitary gum – a hundred merinos crowd each other's shade |
| #322 |
the surprise of the irish spelling... transport list b |
| #323 |
beginning rain a soft wind brushes the casuarinas |
| #324 |
roadkill– my windscreen fills with eagle |
| #325 |
hot pavement a swimmers footprint evaporating |
| #326 |
olympic dream – the slap of trainers on a bush track |
| #327 |
dusk … a butcher bird eyes the dog the dog’s dinner |
| #328 |
migrating ibis a child's black kite breaks free |
| #329 |
monsoons– a row of mold-speckled shoes at the entrance |
| #330 |
on the bluff the burnt-out remains of last year |
| #331 |
firecrackers— kissed by a stranger under the bridge |
| #332 |
record heat a soon-to-be-mum backs into a wave |
| #333 |
midday sun the yellow box stump beaded with sap |
| #334 |
passing traffic – the flicker of bees among grevillea |
| #335 |
from deep shade a currawong calls in slow motion |
| #336 |
lingering drought cracks in the walls widening |
| #337 |
Anzac dawn the bronze wall chills my hand |
| #338 |
In the summer heat of a city breathing out the smell of brickdust |
| #339 |
winter rain – the lake creeps under the fence |
| #340 |
kids reenact the First Fleet arrival boat people |
| #341 |
explaining his ancestry — far-off laughter |
| #342 |
rippling over the stony creek bed ~ heat waves |
| #343 |
morning light a few mangoes have dropped |
| #344 |
silent dawn the oak's trunk glistens with cicada shells |
| #345 |
on the patio possum footprints in apricot juice |
| #346 |
lingering twilight a water dragon's tail dangles in the pool |
| #347 |
bellbirds – half a dozen stubbies clinking in the creek |
| #348 |
spring sunshine the python oozes onto my roof |
| #349 |
by the shed three brolgas line dancing |
| #350 |
full moon a bloated cane toad belly up |
| #351 |
summer... three lorikeets queue in the shade of a pole |
| #352 |
fishing on the deck I watch the colours die |
| #353 |
stubble fields an old cane cutter rubs his chin |
| #354 |
telling the story in a chainsaw voice – lyrebird |
| #355 |
verandah railing a magpie stares down the dog |
| #356 |
hum of the manly ferry each conversation in another language |
| #357 |
bush trail a line of termites moving trees |
| #358 |
first frost the birds that stay the birds that go |
| #359 |
still pools in the rocks – rounded stones in my pocket |
| #360 |
parched paddock a butcherbird clasps the barbed wire |
| #361 |
cane toad on the rainy highway – nearly home |
| #362 |
warm day ~ the Tanami shivers in the long distance |
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