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THE HAIBUN GALLERY: 10th July 2025. Lorraine Haig - Guest Poet

host: Rupa Anand

mentor: Lorraine Haig editors on haikuKATHA: Shalini Pattabiraman, Vidya Shankar, Firdaus Parvez and Kala Ramesh

Guest Poet: Lorraine Haig

A Thursday Feature

10th July 2025


IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENT BELOW


THE HAIBUN GALLERY  July 2025: Lorraine Haig


Prompt

Week 2.


Masks

“She kept the mask, not knowing

what to do with it.”


These are the first two lines from a poem, titled “The Mask” by Lorna Crozier in her poetry book, The Wrong Cat, Published by McClelland and Stewart, 2015.


In part The Collins Australian Concise Dictionary says, a mask is any covering for the whole or part of the face worn for amusement, protection disguise etc.


Let’s take it further. What does a mask mean to you?

Is it the mask you apply before you leave the house each morning?

Use these two lines as a jump-off point to write a haibun about masks.


<>

Thanks a lot, Lorraine.

This prompt is very interesting! Looking forward to this month. 

Thank you so much.


_kala


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IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENT NOTICE

              NOTICE


Dear Haibuneers


Starting from March 2025, we at haikuKATHA are moving on to a new submissions format for haibun submissions. (Only for haibun, please note!)


Writers are invited to submit one unpublished haibun per submission window.


Kindly note the submissions calendar.


1-20 March, to be considered for publication in May

1-20 June, to be considered for publication in August

1-20 September, to be considered for publication in November

1-20 December, to be considered for publication in February


All accepted submissions will receive an email to confirm their acceptance by the 5th day of the publication month.


Your unpublished (only one) haibun should be sent to: 

The Google link will be given in this space soon. This form will open only during the submission period. 


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The Haibun Gallery continues as is.

We will be having editors and prompts, and your sharing…


61 Comments


mona bedi
mona bedi
Jul 12

Post #1

12.7.25


In the dark


Today I am missing my father. In his life he never overtly professed his love for us. We always kept vying for his undivided attention.

Intending to divert my mind, I decide to embark on some decluttering. There is a trunk full of old books in my attic. Opening the old rusted tin trunk is a task. In there are my children’s school books , some old magazines and a few of my novels. I carefully take them out and dust them. Lying there beneath the layers of dust is a brown leather bound diary. It has dad’s name embossed on it. Time has left its mark on it. The cover is peeling all…


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mona bedi
mona bedi
Jul 15
Replying to

Thanks!

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2nd gembun


by the order of ...


colours a' plenty

and a multitude of styles

covid left its mark


Dinah Power, Israel

comments welcomed

Edited
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Replying to

It did indeed!

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11/7/25 #1


Rice on the Floor


chalk outline

floating in summer heat

too faint to fill


The dunnock sings from the tangle of hazel, mid-afternoon; past morning, not yet dusk. I pause, listening. There’s something in the song that unsettles, off-key and familiar. Certain tones stir what lies beneath. I’ve learned not to answer too soon.


Childhood taught me camouflage. The sting of being called "too much." "difficult." "different." A dinner plate set down with enough force to jolt the food. Long silences, sharp voices, and the dim knowing that I wasn’t meant to be there — that something, though unspoken, had already gone wrong.


I picked up the skill without knowing its name: how to tune myself to the…


Edited
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Replying to

I love this Luci, so relatable, poignant and beautifully written. I am only learning now that it is ok to be sensitive and quiet, but also to show my true self. I can still very easily hide tucked in a corner. There is so much depth and truth in this piece.

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#2

 

Who’s here today?

 

There is the class clown, the beauty queen, the workplace bully, the doting grandparent, the laughing baby, the life of the party, the catwalk model, the dress-down guest, the corporate lawyer, the self-employed gardener, the stay at home self, the workplace persona, the dreamer’s friend.  Shake them all together.  Aren’t we all a little of each? Cosmos platter, the luminosity of a slice.

 

stardust

shaking the night

through our bones

 

Joanna Ashwell

UK

 

Feedback welcome

 

 

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Thank you Mohua.

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At a Stretch


They can be whatever they want to be. Paper, crayons, scissors, elastic. She supplies the four essential ingredients in her spell for the magic. Demonstrates by rubbing a mixture on one for herself . Sickly green with a hook-shaped nose. But naughty Nigel climbs on a chair and snips between the ears


playgroup leader

cheeks smeared with tears

for the child they took

Edited
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Replying to

I like the mystery and unsaid in this one Diana. The haibun gives the reader enough information to stretch their mind and leaves them wondering with the haiku at the end.

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