Nicholas Klacsanzky’s Clouds

spring clouds
my mind full of
broken thoughts

Presence #52, 2015

© Nicholas Klacsanzky (Ukraine)

I chose this haiku for several reasons:

1. It is a great example for other haiku writers to emulate, because it shows the “present” moment and is kept in that verb tense. Clouds are always “being” and they are like a continuous present participle that we can watch, feel, hear, flee from, or sleep under.

2. Nicholas avoids the use of a verb; the verb speaks silently like they do in many of the best haiku. My point is that a writer can imply more than needs to be written when in the haiku genre.

3. As far as verbs go, a good verb can add impact and intensity to the haiku, although we don’t want the haiku to be a drama unless we want to convey the drama, in the haiku way.

4. Nicholas contrasts these clouds with his mind full of broken thoughts and this reflects the motion and present moment of the clouds as well; so we have an insight into a moment he experienced about himself by just noticing some clouds. To me, this is the essence of a fine haiku.

5. There are clean simple lines not burdened by simile, metaphor, adverbs, etc. The one adjective, “broken” reinforces the whole connection to the fragment “spring clouds” and clouds usually are broken, unless something much more dramatic is taking place in Mother Nature that day.

A person can go on for a long time when they have a great haiku to work with and find many layers and subtle meanings. I will just conclude by saying, that this one sure did deserve to be published, as it was in: Presence #52, 2015.

– Edwin Lomere (USA)

Malintha Perera’s Alms

alms round…
a monk hiding
his begging bowl

From An Unswept Path.

© Malintha Perera (Sri Lanka)

An “alms round” refers to when a monk or a person who has given up mundane life for spiritual ascension, seeks food and water from surrounding people. From the ellipsis, we see that the alms round is not short, but a long process.

In the second line, we are revealed that the monk is hiding something. Usually, monks are transparent people that do not have anything to hide–physical or personal. I enjoy how  Malintha plays with the word “hides” and is hiding the surprise for us in the third line by cutting the line off at “hides.”

Then, we are revealed that the monk is hiding his begging bowl. Readers might have several questions. Is the monk hiding the bowl to make people perceive him in a more favorable light or not as a monk? Is the monk hiding the bowl with a feeling of doubt of his begging practice? Or is the monk hiding the begging bowl from himself, to forget that he is begging, and to be more in the present moment by eliminating thoughts about begging? The poet does not say, nor should she say.

The mystery of this haiku gives it power. I believe when Malintha used “a monk” instead of “the monk,” she was pointing towards the selflessness of the monk. The hiding of the begging bowl brings in a Zen idea of not being attached and bounded by thoughts. The monk possibly wants to be in between the state of begging and not begging, so that no attachment to identity can be made.

The “o” sound runs through the haiku with “round” “monk” and “bowl.” It gives the perception of the elongation of the begging and how tiring it can be. It can also give the impression of the bowl itself, with its roundness.

With a few simple words, Malintha has created a philosophical mystery and a chance for us to delve deeper into (or out of) our identity.

– Nicholas Klacsanzky (Ukraine)

Lucky Triana’s Intimate Talk

84-tsMX2oY9FJ5zeMCyKpyjXRQL8cf7S3C5T9D_1QPmBWAYxjBh1ksM6b6a-_-DbdwhDPER07Q=w2095-h1179-no

To me, the power of this haiku is the surprise ending. The first two lines set up a scene and atmosphere, and then the third line hits us with the reality of the moment.

After the surprise is made, readers might think, “Why is the poet talking to her shadow?” It could be a mental problem, it could be a sign of desperation, it could be a sign of an epiphany, or it could be even a sign of joy. The poet did not tell us which one it is, but from the tone of the poem, I would guess it is more tending towards melancholy and somberness.

What is interesting about the haiku and the “aha” moment is that despite the poet being alone, the candle itself has created a shadow for the poet to be comforted with and to even converse with. So basically, the poet is saying that we are truly never alone.

What this intimate talk entails is anyone’s guess, but I consider it to be an introspection about the direction of the poet’s life.

I like the alliteration of “candle corner,” the “t” sounds in “intimate talk” and the “l” sounds in “candlelit” and “talk.” The sound of the haiku is appealing and makes the reading of it more stark.

In addition, I like the mysteriousness of the photo. Its ambiguousness lends us to thinking that it could be a sunset, abstract art, or something otherworldly. This mood heightens the mood of the haiku.

The haiku (or shahai, because it is a photo-haiku) comes across naturally, but I am sure Lucky spent more time on it than what is perceived. But well-written haiku should across as effortless, and this one is a fine example.

– Nicholas Klacsanzky (Ukraine)