Tiwago’s Song

song of wet pavement
with kettledrums and cymbals

             i read between naps

© Tiwago (USA)

With the first two lines, I can imagine a parade or a march through a wet street and the splash of people walking on the street. And then the kettledrums and cymbals come, which heightens the sound, and makes it intense. This intensity makes for an interesting comparison between the second part. The two parts make a striking comparison.

Maybe the author is lying in bed, having a lazy day, while everyone is celebrating something–kind of detached from the world.

I think there is a definite feeling that sets in as one reads the last line. It is not simply a striking image for the sake of being striking.

Overall, I think it is a fascinating haiku that is engaging and maybe even a bit puzzling, but in a good way.

– Nicholas Klacsanzky (Ukraine)

 

Eva Limbach’s Soldiers

soldiers
took them by their hands
step by step
across the minefields
the wind

————————–

Original German:

von den Soldaten
an der Hand geführt
Schritt für Schritt
über die Minenfelder
der Wind

© Eva Limbach (Germany) (2016)

The contrast of the freedom of the wind, and the self-made dangers of war (minefields) is stark. I believe Eva is pointing towards how human nature has been separated from the natural world.

The languid pace of the tanka helps us to realize and come to the last line stronger. Though the last line is simple, it is effective and even shocks a reader.

From what I can read from this translation, the language is simple, but each word counts. I think Eva has got to the heart of an important issue without telling too much or explaining too much–which is precisely why poetry like tanka and haiku are so effective.

She truly used the “show, don’t tell” principle in this tanka. An inspiring work.

– Nicholas Klacsanzky (Ukraine)

Marina Balmaceda Paredes’ Altar

16+-+

Just the right pacing and the right words. We begin with “altar dusk,” suggesting that this haiku is about a religious or spiritual activity. With dusk, that activity is ending, but we have the ellipses (…) telling us something else might happen, or that the dusk is slowly carrying on.

The second line comes as a pleasant surprise. It suggests that there was music during the religious or spiritual event, but now another form of music is being played. But where?

The third line gives us the answer. The music is coming from outside. In a sense, the poet is implying that the religious or spiritual music is being playing on through street music. This concept bridges the spiritual world with the human world, and makes it one, though the poet skillfully does not say this directly. Oneness is an often-used concept in haiku–usually from surprising counterparts.

I like the sound of the haiku as well. “altar” and “another” have a nice tune, and “dusk” and “tune” make good use of the “u” sound, which sounds musical.

The photo adds to the imagery already in our mind. We see a street lamp, which can be seen as an extension of the alter lamp, but in a suburban setting.

I enjoy how the haiku and accompanying image portrays the thought that spiritual and religious activity need not be stuffed in a box, but can be expressed in many different forms, even street music.

– Nicholas Klacsanzky (Ukraine)

Dave Read’s Morning Commute

morning commute
the horizon bright
with headlights

A Hundred Gourds March 2016
© Dave Read (Canada)

The first thing I noticed was the sound of the haiku. “morning” “commute” “horizon” are connected with an “o” sound, whereas “horizon” and “headlights” have alliteration.

The second thing that caught my eye is how the third line came as a surprise. Reading Dave’s haiku for a while, I can tell that he is a master of third lines– making turns that astonish and intrigue us.

Third lines are often the most important lines in haiku, as they can create layers and imply different things.

For me, Dave’s third line here is about how humankind is replacing the natural world with its own inventions, and kind of canceling out nature. By reading it, we get a feeling of both awe and the dryness of modern life.

On the technical side, each word is used effectively and phrased well to have an effect on the reader. Being laconic (but not to the extreme) is usually a reward of hard work or natural inspiration.

If people have not read through an issue of A Hundred Gourds, I highly recommend it:

– Nicholas Klacsanzky (Ukraine)

Gabri Rigotti’s Twilight

twilight the sky mountains its silhouettes

© Gabri Rigotti (South Africa)

This is one of those haiku that you got to read several times over to see everything in it. One liners are commonly this way, as they can be read in several ways due to having no punctuation and phrases bleeding together.

Let’s breakdown the various ways it can be read:

“twilight/the sky mountains/its silhouettes”

“twilight/the sky/mountains/its silhouettes”

“twilight the sky/mountains its silhouettes”

… and maybe more.

From the various ways of reading it, one can a sense things beyond our comprehension or usual understanding–that behind our usual perception is an entirely different world, that we might be missing out on.

“sky mountains” could be clouds, or it could mean the mountains appear to be in the sky with the lack of visibility.

If a haiku confuses or puzzles you, but makes you feel something (especially something personable), it can be said that the haiku has achieved a great deal. Haiku should not be something explained and clearcut. It should have mystery, make the reader change their state of consciousness, to break out of our usual perception of life.

I think Gabri’s haiku has achieved this.

– Nicholas Klacsanzky (Ukraine)

Marina Balmaceda Paredes’ Spiderweb

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This is a good example of a leap in a haiku. We have two parts “spiderweb dew” and “I read an old letter.” The leap the writer makes in seeing the relationship between the two parts make a third part in the reader’s mind.

The third part to me is about the irrelevancy of the dew on the spiderweb and the emotional power behind reading an old letter, and how these relate. The dew, while beautiful, is something unneeded on the spiderweb, and the spider would rather have a nice fly. The old letter on the other hand, is probably from a loved one, and the writer wants to experience something again, to renew a part of his or her life, even for a moment. This brevity is connected to the dew poignantly, which only comes for a few hours in the day.

The connection between the two images could also infer that the past is not so important as we may believe, and that it is simply “spiderweb dew.”

To get to the image, the colors are striking. I believe the blue signifies the emotion of reading the letter. It is like a modernist painting, with colors that wake you up to the present.

Note: When haiku is accompanied by art, it is called haiga.

– Nicholas Klacsanzky (Ukraine)

 

Robert Gillette’s Loose Leaf

loose leaf river adrift

© Robert Gillette (USA)

Haiku is a lot about concision and Robert’s haiku is definitely concise. Another thing that drew me in is how it presents a moment of insight. A loose leaf has dropped in the river (from what I read into it) but the river is loose itself. In this connection, they are the same.

Also, the format is interesting. It can be read as “loose” and then “leaf river adrift” or as “loose leaf” and then “river adrift.” It can even be read as “loose leaf river” and then “adrift.” So, because of the lack punctuation, there is a lot of interpretations that can be made.

This haiku is an example of something that seems simple, but has many implications.

– Nicholas Klacsanzky (Ukraine)

Brendon Kent’s Cold Moon

FB_IMG_1463272702429
Blithe Spirit 26.1
shahai/haiga (c) 2016 Brendon Kent (UK)

I enjoy many things about this shahai, or haiku accompanied by an image: its imagery, its sound, its use of articles, and its surprising third line. It has an austere and spiritual quality to it. “cold moon” is a winter kigo, or seasonal reference. The moon can mean many things to people: enlightenment, romanticism, a comprehension of knowledge, and so on. “cold moon” could mean a retreat from enlightenment or self-hood, or from one’s emotions.

The word “shifts” works great, as it shows minimal movement, but it also implies transformation.

There is also a nice strain of sound, with “cold” “crow” and “shifts” and “shadow.” I think the “c” sound makes the harsh atmosphere more prominent, and the “s” sound imitates the sound of the crow shifting.

I was surprised when Brendon used “a crow” instead of “the crow,” but it was appropriate to use “a” to give the shadow prominence. The usage of articles can be tricky and can even add new dimensions to haiku, and Brendon used articles masterfully.

The last line comes as a great surprise to the reader. The crow being black and it going into its shadow leaves a strong image. I think the crow escaping the moonlight is a metaphor for leaving the spiritual reality and retreating back into one’s comfortable life, instead of facing the reality that has been exposed to you.

The photo that the haiku is attached to conveys the austere mood strongly and provides us with extra imagery to imagine.

A great shahai, Brendon!

– Nicholas Klacsanzky (Ukraine)