Lee Gurga

Born 1949 in Chicago Illinois, USA
Living in Lincoln, Illinois, USA
Lee Gurga is a past president of the Haiku Society of America and former editor of the journal Modern Haiku. He is currently editor of Modern Haiku Press. He works as a general dentist in the farming community of Lincoln, Illinois.
His awards include three first prizes in international haiku contests, an Illinois Arts Council Poetry Fellowship, the Japan-America Society of Chicago's Cultural Achievement Award, and, in his professional work as a dentist, an American Red Cross Healthcare Heroes Award.


 

hummingbird!
I shave off my sorrow
with a new razor

Modern Haiku, 46:3, autumn 2015

 

dragonfly shaking the knives from your hair

Modern Haiku, 46:2, summer 2015

 

surf              breath

  singing a lullaby

Frogpond, 38:2, spring/summer 2015

 

dotting an i
dotting an i
death verse

Frogpond, 38:2, spring/summer 2015

 

DONT
WALK & dont love you

is/let, Dec. 18, 2014

 

hilltop cemetery
touching another world
with my tongue

Frogpond, 37:3, autumn 2014

 

where my tooth was morning birdsong

is/let, Dec. 18, 2014

 

suicide bombings of the language rusted shut

Modern Haiku, 45:3, autumn 2014

 

cool again like blind people

is/let, Oct. 19, 2014

 

I thought I knew you Queen Anne’s lace

Frogpond, 37:3, autumn 2014

 

between wound and weapon the milky way

Modern Haiku, 45:3, autumn 2014

 

alphabetic culture turning to snow

Noon 8, January 2014

 

a container for medical waste (3rd from the sun)

Frogpond, 37:1, winter 2014

 

the zipper also had an unsuccessful marriage

Frogpond, 36:1,winter 2013

 

barren subjunctive buys her a pony

Roadrunner; 13:2, August 2013

 

autumn burns spring and your letters

Frogpond, 36:3, autumn 2013

 

crooked teeth driving my frozen grave to work

Modern Haiku, 44:2, summer 2013

 

potter’s ground an oath of silence

Modern Haiku, 44:1, winter–spring 2013

 

new bill o’reillys are formed at angles of 137.5°

Modern Haiku, 44:1, winter–spring 2013

 

armsful of bangles
                         but lonely
    snowflakes

Frogpond, 36:2, spring/summer 2013

 

used condom already numbered with the dead

Modern Haiku, 44:1,winter–spring 2013

 

blue swallowtail corner of the psyche

Roadrunner; 13:2, August 2013

 

except in the case of brief quotations moonset

Roadrunner, 12:3, October 2012

 

body bags a weekend favorite

Roadrunner; 12.1, December 2012

 

your hands cold on my peccadillo

Modern Haiku, 42:2, summer 2011

 

the scent of paradise a dead bird in my hand

Modern Haiku, 42:2, summer 2011

 

baby talk stolen by the crow

Modern Haiku, 42:2,summer 2011

 

not
the
whole
story
but probably enough
fresh
snow

Frogpond, 33:2, spring/summer 2010

 

an unspoken assumption tracks through the petals

Notes From the Gean, 2:3, December 2010

 

against
the
night
touched by your breasts
and
a
silver
angel

Frogpond, 33:3, fall 2010

 

walking a white parabola afternoon cicadas

Acorn, 25, fall 2010

 

prunes and apricots in terms of feminism

Roadrunner, X:3, October 2010

 

floating in the sonogram summer moon

Modern Haiku, 41:3, autumn 2010

 

potato chips and other gods

Roadrunner, X:3, October 2010

 

religious right two parts whiskey one part wine

Roadrunner, X:3, October 2010

 

pig and i convicted by our aphorisms

Roadrunner, X:2, 2010

 

i clap for spring
and banish a key
more minor than mine

Roadrunner, X:2, 2010

 

under your wing the face of the glacier

Roadrunner, X:2, 2010

 

for advanced startup options a row of yellow tulips

Roadrunner, X:2, 2010

 

in
spite
of
my
moods
and awkward lovemaking
purple
asters

Modern Haiku 40:3, autumn 2009

 

cardinals
one
pair
loop from tree to leafless tree
across
the
prairie

Modern Haiku, 40:1, winter–spring 2009

 

linger
at
breakfast
mother’s burial dress
on
a
hanger
in
the
car

NOON, 6, summer 2008

 

sun
set
in
the
keys
the puzzle of my life
with
one
piece
too
many

Modern Haiku, 39:3, autumn 2008

 

snow
sculpted
prairie
your hand cups my hand
cupping
your
breast

Modern Haiku, 39:3, autumn 2008

 

love
scented
darkness
a taste from adam’s garden
on
your
tongue

Modern Haiku, 39:2, summer 2008

 

sky
smudged
with
black
birds
another woman passes by
who
is
not
you

Modern Haiku, 39:1, winter–spring 2008

 

winter
thunder
your rhythm
then
mine

Roadrunner, VIII:2, May 2008

 

she thought we should have sex but nothing fancy autumn rain

Modern Haiku, 38:1, winter–spring 2007

 

night on the town —
how beautiful the girl
my wife finds fault with

Frogpond, 29:3, fall 2006

 

5th of july —
the mockingbird
is back

Modern Haiku, 37:3, autumn 2006

 

winding a bobbin
cotton the color of
her husband’s winter

Autumn Mosquito, Modern Haiku Press, 2005

 

morning rush
plums with a blush
plums with wrinkles

Autumn Mosquito, Modern Haiku Press, 2005

 

morning birdsong
light filters down
to the boy’s prism

Autumn Mosquito, Modern Haiku Press, 2005

 

prairie farmhouse
two empty lawn chairs
facing the blacktop

Frogpond, 28:1, 2005

 

rooster crowing
two old soldiers
at the bar

Modern Haiku, 36:3, autumn 2005

 

orchid scent:
a promise
and a kiss

Modern Haiku, 36:3, autumn 2005

 

rising
to
urinate
the
dog
star

Modern Haiku 35:2, summer 2004

 

hardware store smell of gun oil and morning donuts

Hermitage, 1:1/2, 2004

 

kwife

&2 , Runaway Spoon Press, 2004

 

midday heat:
the staccato staccato
of a nail gun

Modern Haiku, 35:1, winter–spring 2004

 

after lovemaking rhubarb tarts

ant ant ant ant ant 6 2004

 

benedictine monastery —
an autumn ikebana
in an empty room

Kraków Poems, 2004

 

forgotten for today
by the one true god
autumn mosquito

ant ant ant ant ant 6, 2003

 

morning meditation
the goldfish
winks

The Heron’s Nest, 3:2, February 2001

 

Happy Mother’s Day!
at last her favorite son
released from prison

Boston Haiku Society News, June 2001

 

spring mud —
a row of young soldiers
in the coffins

Haiku Troubadours, Ginyu Press, 2000

 

quiet afternoon
all my ambitions buried
in a foot of snow

A Penny Face Up, tel-let, 2000

 

oyster omelet
my tongue
between the folds

Modern Haiku, 31:2, summer 2000

 

what to do?
a penny face up
in the urinal

Noddy & the Halfwit, Modern Haiku Press, 1999

 

midday sun —
butterflies flutter about
the peeing boy

Fresh Scent, Brooks Books, 1998

 

summer harbor —
each boat pointing
to the storm

Fresh Scent, Brooks Books, 1998

 

hair stubble
on the deodorant stick:
the heat

Fresh Scent, Brooks Books, 1998

 

wild geese —
writing a wordless message
on the autumn sky

Heron Quarterly, 1:4, October 1997

 

scenic overlook —
the whole Mississippi valley
hidden in mist

In and Out of Fog, Press Here, 1997

 

now that you’ve left —
your side of the bed covered
with open books

In and Out of Fog, Press Here, 1997

 

sweat steaming
from a team of geldings;
endless stars

In and Out of Fog, Press Here, 1997

 

pine shade —
the wooden bench
worn smooth

In and Out of Fog, Press Here, 1997

 

last bale of hay —
we sit down on it
and watch the moon

Woodnotes, 31, autumn 1997

 

dancing to my tune
cricket
in the urinal

In and Out of Fog, Press Here, 1997

 

burying the horse’s afterbirth summer heat

Modern Haiku, 24:3, fall 1993

 

fresh scent —
the labrador’s muzzle
deeper into snow

Haiku Summit Contest 1996 (International), 1st Place

 

a bike in the grass
one wheel slowly turning —
summer afternoon

Haiku World, Kodansha, 1996


rows of corn

stretch to the horizon —
sun on the thunderhead

1st International Kusamakura Haiku Competition, 1996, Grand Prize

 

morning mist . . .
the soft brown eye
of the suckling calf

Canadian Writer's Journal Contest 1996, 1st place

 

fluttering madly —
butterfly in the slipstream
of a passing freight 

7th BHS James W. Hackett International Award for Haiku (1996), 2nd place

 

the ticking of sleet
on the bedroom window:
your hand
gathers
me

Haiku Splash contest, 1996, HM

 

morning twilight . . .
horse asleep in the pasture
covered with frost

HPNC haiku contest, 1996, 3rd place

 

graduation day —
my son & I side by side
knotting our ties

Woodnotes 30, autumn 1996

 

winter prairie —
a diesel locomotive
throttles down in the night

Frogpond, 18:4, winter 1995

 

small town paper —
THE ACADEMY AWARDS
not even mentioned

Woodnotes, 26, autumn 1995

 

four or five turkeys
roosting in a leafless tree —
winter evening

Ito-en contest 1995 Jury’s Choice Award

 

his side of it.
her side of it.
winter silence

HPNC San Francisco International Contest, 1995, Senryu 2nd HM

 

from house
           to barn:
                 the milky way

Frogpond 17:2 (summer 1994)

 

rotted stump —
brown pint bottle
still hidden inside

Frogpond, 17:2, summer 1994

 

she speaks
of her late husband —
autumn breeze

Ko, autumn-winter 1991

 

I read
she reads
winter evening

The Measure of Emptiness, Press Here, 1991

 

wedding picture:
each face finds
a different camera

The Measure of Emptiness, Press Here, 1991

 

frozen branches
measure the emptiness —
winter sunset

Ko, autumn-winter 1991

that picture of Dad:
three different plaids, but mostly
the blue of his eyes

The Measure of Emptiness, Press Here, 1991

class reunion —
with my old girlfriend
her girlfriend

The Measure of Emptiness, Press Here, 1991

after
chickadee
stillness

The Measure of Emptiness, Press Here, 1991

chopping out stumps —
the old boundary dispute
with every stroke

The Measure of Emptiness, Press Here, 1991

birthday shopping —
into the dress she loves
her daughter’s hips

The Measure of Emptiness, Press Here, 1991

summer sunset —
the baby finds his shadow
on the kitchen wall

Mainichi Daily News Contest, 1st place (traditional), 1990

a spot of sunlight —
on a blade of grass a dragonfly
changes its grip

Geppo, 13:243, 1990

dusk . . .
the mantle of God
kindles starlight

Christian Science Monitor, Jan. 4, 1990

fall leaves the trees the winter sky

Harold G. Henderson Awards 1990, HM

street magician —
tourists appear
disappear

World Haiku Contest, 1989, HM

postal chess —
he moves me
from his cell

Frogpond, 12:3, August 1989

figure drawing class —
in the model’s deepest shadow
a stark white string

Harold G. Henderson Awards 1989, HM

each waiting
for the other’s silence —
April birdsong

New Cicada, 6:2, 1989

first spring day —
beyond the woodpecker
beyond the moon

New Cicada, 5:2, 1989

another Christmas . . .
my parents visit
the son in prison

Frogpond, 12:3, August 1989

the smell of the iron
as I come down the stairs
winter evening

A Mouse Pours Out, HIGH/COO Press, 1988

trying the old pump a mouse pours out

Modern Haiku, 19:1, winter–spring 1988

first feeding —
smelling her milk
the black cat

A Mouse Pours Out, HIGH/COO Press, 1988

first spring day —
each horse reaching
over its fence

A Mouse Pours Out, HIGH/COO Press, 1988

frozen ground —
with every step
the thorn

Japan Airlines contest 1988 HM

as the light fails,
still hammering
from the treehouse 

Mayfly 5, July 1988

the end
of moving day;
dogs barking

A Mouse Pours Out, HIGH/COO Press, 1988