17. Deborah Karl-Brandt ~ and yet

Mourning and fighting, Deborah Karl-Brandt writes haiku and related forms because “poetry can change the world for the better or for the worse.”

She writes to choose the better:

first this first loving
the truth loneliness family visit
worm rainbow would you miss me
amontillado divorce
convincing almond-shaped eyes
shattered
two-way-ticket starry night
in the cow trough unlimited sky
dawn

Her work is timely and heartening. She juxtaposes rainbows with rejection, whitespaces the silence, and gives the whole night sky to a refugee child. She writes with sadness, lightness, and questions, and sometimes without a subject, making room for the reader. She gives a “skirt and braids” to the shy boy next door, wonders about her own belonging, and wonders how it ends.

Me, too.

Matt Snyder, confluence associate editor

noodles in tomato sauce
according to a Chinese recipe
cooked by the German
who writes tanka . . .
unlimited sky

international women's day
after the lecture she
returns to the kitchen

first blossom . . .
asking his mother about
the meaning of love

fangirling
even in her poems the love
of Wangxian

first blossoms . . .
rainbow colors
on his skirt

this love song
not written for me . . .
and yet

first blossoms…
they are just friends
the mother says

loving his body
when no one else does
clear mountain stream

the truth
of a soul revealed
a skirt and braids
for the shy boy
from next door

loneliness
a single poppy between
cornflowers

family visit what I cannot say

worm moon
the thousand ways how
cherries bloom

rainbow nobody wants my truth

would you miss me
if i'm gone
dry cicadas

amontillado wine
between you and me
a truth whispered
as bitter as
bones

divorce process
the story behind
her bruised face

convincing myself
everything is fine
tree without cherries

almond-shaped eyes
where are you from?
always the first question

shattered stars
the memoir of
the refugee child

two-way-ticket
made from stardust
returned to stardust

starry night
the way we lose
our innocence

sunburnt earth
in the cow trough
the eyes of a frog

unlimited sky
her whispered prayers
dissolved into the blue

dawn wanting to know how it ends

Befriending Evil

Korean, Japanese and Jewish authors mingle with voices from America, England and the Netherlands. As I carry the whole world back to my apartment, I feel enriched.

loan books
Hitler by Shigeru Mizuki
Inheritance by Rutu Modan
a group of Nazis shouting
Germany for Germans only

Worldly Matters

A short list of books that are not available in my new library:

Books that deal with LGBTIQ+ issues
Books about art and writing
Books that deal with religions that are not Christianity, Judaism or Islam
Books that deal with Autism or ADHD
Books written by authors from Africa, South America, Asia or India 

crossing the border
will I ever really
belong here?"

For me, poetry can change the world for the better or for the worse. In these days of political unrest, I often come across magazines that seem to be changing their policies to publish poems that address social issues, to showcase underrepresented groups in society such as people with disabilities, refugees, women and people who belong to the LGBTIQ+ community. Even before censorship exists, which hopefully will never come, we begin to hush our voices, to back out and withdraw into the private sphere and turn away from those who suffer from ableism, xenophobia or discrimination.

As a trained archaeologist, I know that societies have always been characterized by a diversity of lifestyles, and I mourn that we are now living in times where this could become an issue. Again! We are not expanding our acceptance of the diversity of the human condition, which I see as a crucial point for harmonious coexistence, but there are some people who are actively trying to turn the wheel back to times of ignorance and hostility.

As a poet with disabilities, I simply want to lend my voice to all the people who are among those who suffer prejudice and hostility and who cannot speak for themselves.

I think haiku and tanka in particular should also focus on the dark sides of our time. They should promote acceptance and openness. And by making the perspective of underrepresented groups accessible to us, showing us their problems and feelings, they enable us to grow as people and open our hearts.

I am convinced that no one and nothing can exist exclusively for itself. Whether we like it or not, the world is a sphere and all people are connected to each other. To ensure our survival as humanity, we need tolerant, open societies with people who are willing to work together to counteract global problems such as climate change and the destruction of our environment.

I am really afraid that we might lose this fight: for our freedom, for a society worth living in, for an environment that will feed our children and our children's children, but this is my way of continuing to fight.

Vidya Premkumar

Deborah Karl-Brandt’s poetry speaks with remarkable compassion and moral clarity. Her haiku, tanka, and haibun reveal an alert consciousness that moves between the intimate and the political, tracing how the smallest moment can open into questions of identity, justice, and belonging. Poems such as rainbow nobody wants my truth, the truth of a soul revealed, and divorce process demonstrate her courage to address discrimination, pain, and resilience with unflinching honesty. Her work reminds us that even an ordinary gesture (a shared meal, a child’s question, a skirt in motion) can hold immense emotional and social weight.

As her essay outlines, Karl-Brandt regards poetry as both witness and resistance. She transforms lived experience into collective insight, using brevity to strengthen the voices often overlooked or dismissed. The distinction of her writing lies in combining conviction with sensitivity, political without polemic, emotional without excess. Her haibun Befriending Evil and Worldly Matters extend this moral engagement by turning reading itself, or the absence of certain books, into a reflection on conscience and empathy.

If refinement is needed at all, it might lie in creating more moments of stillness within the emotional intensity, allowing reflection to heighten meaning rather than reiterate it. Sometimes, a measured pause can carry more force than direct declaration.

Deborah Karl-Brandt’s work is fearless, humane, and resonant, proof that haiku and tanka can become instruments of awareness and compassion in a fractured world.

Colleen M. Farrelly

Deborah Karl-Brandt’s work pivots natural images with social commentary in her haiku kire, creating a peaceful reading with depth in gender diversity. One of her haiku embodying this principle is the following:

first blossoms
rainbow colors
on his skirt

This haiku moment roots the reader in a peaceful spring and introduces gender diversity as a natural extension of rainbow-colored blossoms. The stillness of this piece echoes the principle of wabi-sabi, a depth in everyday experience through simple images. Another instance of this principle in her work is a body-positive haiku:

loving his body
when no one else does
clear mountain stream

In three short lines, she introduces so many questions and possibilities surrounding this boy. Is he bullied for choices in body modification? Has he been rejected in love? Is he struggling to accept a genderqueer identity and body? The clarity of the stream suggests acceptance even in a society that might not accept his body aesthetics or identity.

Likewise, her tanka briefly introduces gender diverse characters in simple moments, such as her piece about truth and the soul of a shy, gender diverse boy next door. The simplicity of the moment and the revelation of truth provide a quiet reflection on social acceptance and the precarious nature of this acceptance in society.

Karl-Brandt’s haibun carry this wabi-sabi and social justice tradition and blend it with hermit crab styles of poetry, including her Worldly Matters haibun that employs a list-structured body of the haibun dealing with book bans and targeting of diversity. She contrasts books, borders, and a sense of belonging to mirror displacement, chaos, and evil in the world right now.

In totality, her work embodies haikai principles to breathe life into the stories of marginalized people: those who are gender-diverse, those who are displaced from their homes, and those that are abused and forgotten. Her voice as an archaeologist and disabled poet provides a safe space for readers exploring their own experiences with these topics and those hoping to champion diversity in society through poetry.

Sophia Conway

From Deborah Karl-Brandt’s essay, the line, “no one and nothing can exist exclusively for itself,” jumps out at me. Her description of an inter-connected and diverse world brings to mind collaborative and progressive poetry forms, which is how she accurately categorizes her own work, though there are still nods to the poetry of Basho within haiku such as first blossoms and this love song.

The tension of the world Karl-Brandt hopes for and one she exists in is clear throughout the wide themes within her poetic works and essay. Her fight against censorship is highlighted in haiku such as rainbow, divorce process, and shattered stars. Her desire for a better world is reflected in starry night. And her haibun Worldly Matters encompasses these things in the juxtaposition of what is and what is missing. One can’t help but pause and imagine the kind of world that Karl-Brandt dreams of having easy access to within her community library and personal book shelves.

Her advocacy for change and equality is bold and admirable, steeped in her pursuit of knowledge, personal journey, and past career as an archaeologist. Certainly, she has succeeded in “[lending] my voice to all the people.”

Thank you for reading! We invite you to continue the conversation by hitting the "comment" button below and letting us know where you're reading confluence from. We'd love to hear your favorite poem of Deborah's (literally: feel free to post your own reading!) and share any responses to her work as well. Deborah and the editors look forward to reading and responding to your comments.

If you liked the issue, we invite you to share this with others in your community. And please check back in February, which will feature work by Fellow Sophia Conway.