Month: May 2016

Marilyn Ward’s Rainfall

On By Nicholas KlacsanzkyIn ShahaiLeave a comment

2016 - 1

I believe this photo-haiku brings out the humility of animals and the no-mind state that spirituality expounds on.

In the first line, we get the pleasant image of spring rain, which is a sign of nourishment and kindness, you could say.

The second line presents a mystery. Who is drinking out of the gutter? And from such a pretty scene as a “spring rainfall” we get the contrast of a gutter.

In the last line, we learn that a goldcrest, a lovely, small bird, is drinking out of the gutter. I think it is called a goldcrest because of its royal appearance of a gold streak on its head and wings.

This royal bird is drinking from a gutter, and just accepts life as it is. It doesn’t have thoughts like, “I am above drinking out of a gutter–I am a magnificent bird.” It just drinks because it is thirsty and the water happened to be there. The use of “a goldcrest” instead of “the goldcrest” further shows the humility of the bird. The freshness of the spring rain is compared to the fresh mind or beginner’s mind of the bird.

The isness of this haiku is much in line with Zen philosophy. In Zen, there is a philosophy that having awareness without thought is a state of meditation. If you have thoughts, you are not truly meditating. You are adding your own shades to reality when you have thoughts. Reality, as it is, is something different than what we think or feel about it. It just is, and this haiku, in my mind, champions this philosophy.

The sound of the haiku is quite nice with “r” going through “spring” “rainfall” “drinking” “gutter” and “goldcrest.” The “r” sounds, coincidentally, like rain.

The photo shows the beauty of the spring rain and the lettering adds further to the mood of the haiku.

A fine photo-haiku that just is.

– Nicholas Klacsanzky (Ukraine)

Laughing Waters’ Thanks

On By Nicholas KlacsanzkyIn SenryuLeave a comment

life ended 
thanks for playing
god

© Laughing Waters (Italy)

This senryu accomplishes a contrast of two opposing moods in the same piece. That is difficult even for the most experienced writers.

1. Our mortality and briefness in this world conveys a serious finality. We are finite and god/God is there with the poet. Perhaps god is just “looking” on as the scene unfolds.

2. Then, there is humor in that it is also god/God giving the poet a memo on her life and referring to it as a role (playing) or even a game–especially a game.

This removes the finality a little since “god” might have another role/game up “his/her” sleeve. We don’t really know and that unknown aspect adds poignancy to the “memo.” It leaves the reader wondering what is meant, possibly after the memo has been received.

This one actually gets away with personifying “god,” if it is, indeed, a memo.

In haiku, we avoid personification of the natural world so it can remain part of the natural world. Clouds, for example, wouldn’t be “crying” but they could sure be used in an image set against another image of a person weeping, crying, lamenting, etc.

– Edwin Lomere (USA)

Mark Meyer’s Answers

On By Nicholas KlacsanzkyIn Haiku, SenryuLeave a comment

This is definitely a Zen-tinged haiku or senryu (I would place it in the senryu box). With its humor, it shows the frustration of learning and of unlearning.

have I learned nothing?
only conflicting answers
sensei laughing

©  Mark Meyer (USA)

“Have I learned nothing?” is a common feeling someone gets when they are learning something new–and in the case of Zen, it could be for “advanced” learners as well. It could have two meanings: learning what nothing is, and learning nothing at all. The question is itself a conundrum. In Zen, feeling emptiness within–having a lack of ego and conditioning–is a “goal” to achieve. Learning something is not quite the goal of Zen: usually, it is about unlearning what we have learned.

The second line makes more sense in the context of previously mentioned statements. Answers in Zen are usually malleable and practitioners of its art try not to stick to ideas.

We don’t know the exact reason the sensei (teacher) laughs. It may be in the humor of asking this question in the first place, the teacher seeing the contorted face of the student, the teacher recognizes the student is making a joke about his learning, or feeling joy from knowing that he does not need to know answers, or all of the above.

In the poem, you can feel the frustration and comedy in the moment. It is simply written, but gets straight to the point. The “l” sound runs through it with “learned” “only” “conflicting” “laughing.” To me, the “l’ sound gives it a lilting feeling, which makes it more whimsical.

The simplicity of this piece has a lot to it actually: philosophy, anti-philosophy, and the endearing relationship between a student and a teacher.

– Nicholas Klacsanzky (Ukraine)