fredag den 22. november 2019

Genjuan Haibun contest - 2018

  Some time ago, I received an invitation to the annual Genjuan haibun contest. I have participated for a couple of years, but as I was unable to see the literary qualities in the winning pieces, as compared to the contribitions of the non-winners, I just stopped sending in anything. As Lissa so aply writes on her blog:  
The few writing contests that I was involved in all had the one thing in common - all the winning stories are boring. I am not saying they shouldn't win, I'm saying why does the most boring story wins? Maybe these stories aren't boring, maybe they are for a more sophisticated audience so I can't understand them and that's why I think they are boring. They just seems to lack something exciting or meaningful to me. I don't know. I just don't understand it.
Now I try publishing my pieces here one at a time. Please tell me what you think.
Maybe I'm just exposing my own naiveté, then so be it.

-- はいぶん --

This was my entry for 2018. The winners and honourable menitonings can be found here.

Speciesism?
    Finally reaching the bus stop; burden placed squarely at a conveniently placed electricity box. The few minutes until the bus arrived was best spent relaxing my arms and catching my breath.

Red-brown across road,
A tabby cat closely follows.
Safety in heights.

  Suddenly, tired lungs forgotten, parcels left at the bus stop, I found myself running, clapping my hands and yelling. Of course siding with the poor squirrel confronted by ferocious claws and jaws. Wouldn't we all do the same?

  Arriving at my home stop, once again picking up my parcels. An old man stands at the bus stop looknig confused, consulting time table and wrist watch again and agin.
 "I'm suffering from de ... erm ...dem ..."
 "Dementia,"  I kindly asked. On his nodding, I proceeded to explain the time table and telling him the time. He seemed to know where and why to go, only the intricate skills of relating a time table to a watch eluded him. I was not afraid to leave him on his own.

  Finally lifting my burden, I plodded on; ignoring the yells from inside the gym: "Bloody Hell, can't you ever stop doing that?"

Squirrels and old men,
Sunshine on heavy parcels
Sorry for children.

4 kommentarer:

  1. I do not the style of haibun and I'm very sketchy about haikus but I like this odd piece, it's like fiction with poetry mixed together. I mostly do not understand poetry but I like reading them.

    I think it's a bit harder to interpret other people's writing especially if it was written in a very deep or deep concept manner.

    I'm glad you presented your writings here, however naive you might think of your writing is. We all need improvement here and there and I'm no exception.

    Have a lovely day.

    SvarSlet
    Svar
    1. Thank you Lissa - A haibun is a haiku (or two) enclosed in prose with special attenton to "the subtle linking of haiku with prose, omission prompting the reader’s imagination, humour and self-deprecation." (Genjuan Homepage).
      I also found it hard to understand it. I think it might be too subtle for me to grasp. But I keep trying.

      Slet
  2. Without knowing who runs the contest, i cannot say how the judging is done. It's always possible that there is an element in it that is not obvious on the surface.

    Your writing always keeps me coming back for more, that is the way of good writing.

    SvarSlet

Jeg bliver altid glad for en kommentar.
Jeg prøver at svare på alle kommentarer - og lover at hive alle kommentarer ud af spam-fængslet så hurtigt som muligt.

I am always grateful for all comments, and try to reply meaningfully to all of them.
I furthermore promise to pull your comments from spam-limbo as fast at possible.