Mark Meyer’s Pond

evening stillness
bells of Kōfuku-ji
rippling the pond

© Mark Meyer (USA)

This haiku definitely has a classical feel to it: temple bells, a pond, and stillness. Yet, Meyer made something new with classical elements in mind.

Knowing what “Kofuku-ji” is intrinsic to feeling what the haiku is about. Kofuku-ji used to be the family temple of the Fujiwara, the most powerful family clan during much of the Nara and Heian periods. The temple was established in Nara at the same time as the capital in 710. At the height of Fujiwara power, the temple consisted of over 150 buildings.

In addition, Meyer noted that the complex has a lot of legends associated with it. This information gives us a sense that there might be something mystical in the haiku. How nature and human culture interact is often remarkable, and I believe this haiku is showing us a window into this phenomenon.

The pond is still. The bell rings from the ancient temple and the vibrations from its sound reverberates on the water, creating ripples. The ancient temple may not be as it used to be, but it is still creating the same effect on the waters around it. This brings about the haiku aesthetic of continuance despite a death, or against all odds.

Also, there is something supernatural in nature itself that allows us to draw inspiration from it. By noticing the ripples on the pond from the bells, I get a sense of the supernatural, especially with the temple being associated with many legends.

I like how the dash is used to illustrate just how silent the moment was. I also enjoy the “l” sound with “stillness,” “bells,” and “rippling.” The circular sound of “l” brings the ripples to mind.

An elegant haiku that brings a sense of peace and remembrance.

– Nicholas Klacsanzky (Ukraine)

 

Michael Dylan Welch’s Scattered Petals

scattered petals . . .
the thud of my books
in the book drop

© Michael Dylan Welch (USA)

The first line most likely refers to late spring, when the petals on blossoms regularly fly off, though some petals scatter in early spring as well. Instead of “scattering” we have “scattered,” which denotes that we are seeing the petals after they have already spun through the wind and landed in a formation. The kireji or “cutting word” as the ellipsis works well to show the continuous motion of the petals. Though Welch does not specify which petals, I imagine them to be pink.

Then we have an abrupt action: the thud of books. It is important to note the use of “my.” It could mean the books the author wrote himself or simply the books he is returning to a library. The use of “my ” gives the books more weight, no pun intended.

In the third line, we get to know that the thud of books is coming from a book drop, which are located at libraries.

Though books and petals have much different physical weights and the actions described in both parts seem to be different, they have a similarity: transience and a circular nature. Through seasons, petals come and go, illustrated nicely by the ellipsis. But even if they appear to be transient, they always come back each year. On the other hand, when we get out books from the library, we eventually return them, and then someone else will take them out. Though the author’s reading of the books was temporary, there is an endless cycle of reading them from the countless readers at the library.

Another thing to get from the juxtaposition is how the two actions connect. Did the dropping off of the books, and its thud, cause the petals to scatter, or vice versa? Kind of like a trick of the mind, I find myself hearing the thud of the books as I imagine the petals scattering, possibly around the library courtyard, or parking lot. I also see how the definite thud of the books correlate to the now still petals on the ground. Though cause and effect is usually avoided in haiku between the two parts, it is not a “sin” to imply it.

The sound of the haiku works well. The “s” sound in “scattered,” “petals,” and “books” make a rustling sound akin to scattering petals. The “o” sound in “books” and “book drop” illustrate the dropping motion and maybe the sensation we feel when dropping books off.

The use of two “the” seems right, as both the sound of the books dropping and the book drop itself need to be important. If it was “a book drop” I think we would feel the impact less.

The mood the haiku is somber and introspective. For me, it instantly puts me in a state of looking for higher meaning in what I perceive in everyday life. Many haiku poets would agree that it is one their goals for readers when writing haiku: to allow people to see greater significance behind mundane existence and to see the connection between the myriad things we perceive.

If you want to learn more about Michael Dylan Welch and read his fantastic essays on haiku and related subjects, visit http://www.graceguts.com/

– Nicholas Klacsanzky (Ukraine)

 

Lucky Triana’s New Moon

new moon
a firefly is stuck
in the scarecrow’s eye

© Lucky Triana (Indonesia)

We start with a common kigo, or seasonal reference: new moon. It is crescent shaped, can be a reference to new beginnings, or new enlightenment.

Then we get another subject: a firefly. And for some reason, the firefly is stuck. In haiku, the second line commonly acts as a pivot line that builds suspense, and Lucky does a good job providing anticipation for the third line.

In the third line, we get a shocker. The firefly is stuck in the scarecrow’s eye! A unique, strange, and maybe philosophical image. If a haiku surprise readers, it is often on the right track.

We got two parts: the new moon, and the firefly stuck in the scarecrow’s eye. These two parts make a comparison. This comparison is an indirect simile saying that “the new moon is like a firefly stuck in a scarecrow’s eye.” Each haiku is a new connection (hopefully) between two things, be it a comparison, contrast, or association.

In the context of this haiku, I believe this comparison brings about a sense of life and death. Scarecrows are obviously not alive, but the firefly stuck in the eye of the scarecrow, showing light and moving, gives us a lens through which we can see how the scarecrow might be seen if it was alive. Though it is the misfortune of the firefly to be stuck in the scarecrow’s eye, it partially brings the scarecrow to life.

This might be a metaphor for how we live. Some people believe they had suddenly woke up to reality after years of being in a sleeping state. This enlightenment or self realization sometimes happens at the expense of a misfortune of another person or oneself.

The sound of the haiku is effective as well. The “s” sound in “stuck” and “scarecrow” makes these keywords more prominent. There is also a musical quality to the haiku with the “e” and “o” running through the haiku.

Lucky Triana presented a classic seasonal reference and found a unique comparison for it. A fun, interesting read.

– Nicholas Klacsanzky (Ukraine)