Eric Lohman’s Cherry Blossoms

cherry blossoms
how a street becomes
a car-park

© Eric Lohman (USA)

Lovely! This is a time, in my opinion, that a crafty rhyme can slip in with ‘blossoms’ and ‘becomes’…the syntax leads you smoothly through cherry blossoms and how a street ‘becomes’ (smooth sounds) before abruptly stopping you at ‘car-park’.(harsh sounds)
Having ‘a car-park’ on L3 is so abrupt it forces the reader to go back to the top, re-reading and building a clearer image on every reading…love it!

– Brendon Kent (UK)

To add to this, I love the juxtaposition between the two parts. Seeing the similarity in the way cherry blossoms bloom and the way urban streets fill up with cars is a genius insight. It also makes a harmony between the natural world and human technology.

In terms of sound, “blossoms” and “becomes” has both a pleasant “b” and “o” sounds, which increases the beauty of the haiku.

Lohman could have written much more, but chose to be concise, which is key to writing haiku. Writing about small things in a large way, concisely: an essential art to practice for any haiku poet.

– Nicholas Klacsanzky (Ukraine)

Martha Magenta’s Willow

the willow

Though simple, this haiku has a lot of weight to it. We don’t know who has gone, but the photo accompanying it might give us a clue. The weight of the loss is shown through the willow, which often symbolizes melancholy. Over the years, the willow has grown, and this might imply that the grief of the author has grown over the years as well.

I like how the haiku seems so natural, like it could be written in a matter of seconds. However, I am sure Martha took longer than that to write the poem. But this shows how a haiku should be: simple and effortless to read. Just the right words in the right place.

In addition, there is a continuation of the “o” sound that adds to the sense of sadness and continuation.

A fine example of an emotionally-weighted haiku.

– Nicholas Klacsanzky (Ukraine)

Marilyn Ward’s Glacier

2016+1

At first sight, you might read this haiku and say, “so what?” However, I believe through its statement, it helps us realize how the landscapes around us have been shaped: through a long process. This observation can apply metaphorical to our lives as well, in that what we keep frozen inside us cuts us slowly.

With the word “cutting” it is inferred that it is painful. We might even garner some compassion for the granite through its suffering, though we know in the back of our mind that granite does not feel suffering. That is one of the powers of haiku: giving us compassion for every form of life, even inanimate things.

Without punctuation, the poet makes the two parts clearly separate. The sound works well, with “I” sounds running through it, possibility showing the sound of cutting.

This haiku has a classic feel to it, with it being an observation made into a great insight.

– Nicholas Klacsanzky (Ukraine)