Month: November 2016

Antonietta Losito’s Wishes

On By Nicholas KlacsanzkyIn SenryuLeave a comment

Trevi Fountain—
a beggar steals
other’s wishes

© Antonietta Losito (Italy)

Otata’s bookshelf, November, 2016

The Trevi Fountain is a fountain in the Trevi district in Rome, Italy, designed by Italian architect Nicola Salvi and completed by Pietro Bracci. Standing 26.3 meters (86 ft) high and 49.15 meters (161.3 ft) wide, it is the largest Baroque fountain in the city and one of the most famous fountains in the world. An estimated 3,000 Euros are thrown into the fountain each day. The money has been used to subsidize a supermarket for Rome’s needy; however, there are regular attempts to steal coins from the fountain, although it is illegal to do so.

With this context in mind, we can see this senryu as commentary on those in need and the power of wishes. With the surprising last line, we can get a mix of emotions: a witty laugh, a reflection on the weight of our wishes, and maybe an introspection on how we treat our homeless members of society.

We can get a witty laugh because of the wordplay, but many times senryu use puns and witticisms to reach for a deeper meaning. It could be that the poet wanted us to think about how much wishes mean. Most people have many wishes, but rarely act upon them. The beggar taking the wishing coins could be a demonstration of the frivolousness of our wishes if they are not put into action.

We can also ponder if the supposed power we put into these coins with our wishes will be transferred to the beggar. Maybe he is not only begging for money, but begging for being able to wish. Many of the homeless have no way to get out their circumstances, and cannot even afford to wish.

The money thrown into the fountain for charity may in fact be collected and put in the pockets of the wealthy. The beggar might have the right to distrust the city and its politicians, and collect the money for himself, making the charity transparent. He is in fact committing a righteous act by accepting the charity money directly.

As one can see, what might start as a witticism can turn into a deep introspection on human nature.

In a technical sense, the most prominent sound is the letter “s,” giving the impression of the sound of a fountain. With just 7 words and 12 syllables, Losito has packed a lot of meaning and emotions in a small space—which is a mark of a fine senryu poet.

– Nicholas Klacsanzky (Ukraine)

Hortensia Anderson’s Pause

On By Nicholas KlacsanzkyIn HaikuLeave a comment

lattice window —
the lacemaker pauses
to gaze at the moon

© Hortensia Anderson (19??-2012) (USA)
tinywords, December 24, 2004

Before giving commentary on this haiku, let’s get to know Hortensia Anderson first. Hortensia Anderson is the author of numerous chapbooks as well as a volume of poetry, Trust (fly-by night press, 1995). She maintained an interest in renga and other forms of collaborative poetry with other poets around the world and explored paintings by Frido Kahlo and Georgia O’Keeffe via ekphrastic poems.

Her work has been published in Frogpond, The Heron’s Nest, Ribbons, Simply Haiku, The Mainichi Daily News, Asahi Haikuist Network, tinywords, Lynx, Haijinx, Hermitage, Woodnotes, South by Southeast, Modern English Tanka Quarterly, Contemporary Haibun, Haibun Today,Prune Juice, Ambrosia, Concise Delight, Modern Tanka and Haibun Prose, and moonset.

Awards and Other Honors include: Best of 2002: Haiku in English, The Mainichi Daily News; 5th Annual Suruga Baika Winner; Honorable Mention, Mainichi Contest (2003); Tanka Splendor Awards (2003, 2004); and Third Prize, Kusamakura (2004).

Her work has been selected to appear in various anthologies, including edge of light: The Red Moon Anthology of English-Language Haiku 2003 (Red Moon Press, 2004), dust of summers: The Red Moon Anthology of English-Language Haiku 2007 (Red Moon Press, 2008); Rose Haiku for Flower Lovers and Gardeners (Price-Patterson, Ltd., 2005); The Five-Hole Flute (MET Press, 2006); The Tanka Prose Anthology (MET Press, 2008); Ash Moon Anthology: Poems on Aging (Lulu Press, 2008); and Take Five: Best Contemporary Tanka (MET Press, 2009).

Books Published: Trust ( fly-by-night press, 1994) [ISBN 0-9639585-1-8]; Georgia on My Mind (Imp Press, 1992); Awareness of Rose (Imp Press, 1993); Beg, Borrow or Steal (Betty Elyse Press, 1994); Living in Frida’s Body (Imp Press, 1995); The Plenitude of Emptiness: Collected Haibun (Darlington Richards, 2010). [Adapted from The Living Haiku Anthology]

Commentary

As you can see, Anderson was a widely respected haijin (haiku poet) and one can see clearly why in this haiku. We start with a unique first line: “lattice window —”. A lattice is a structure consisting of strips of wood or metal crossed and fastened together with square or diamond-shaped spaces left between, used as a screen or fence or as a support for climbing plants. So, it seems the poet is talking about a window screen in the form of a lattice.

But from the second line, “the lacemaker pauses,” we understand the lattice is made out of either cotton, silk, or a different thread. I enjoy how the word “pauses” is at the end of the second line as an actual pause. If gives us suspense and maybe a moment of silence for ourselves.

In the third line, we get to know why the lacemaker was pausing: “to gaze at the moon.” And directly after envisioning this in our minds, we see a correlation between the lace and the moon: its white color and its softness (the moon’s light and symbolism). Also, we have a relation between space: close and far. Haiku often contrast distances to demonstrate many things, or to show an emotion. The lacemaker, in this instance, might feel guilty for building a lace to partially block the splendor of the moon.

We do not know the true reason why the lacemaker looks at the moon, though, but there could be multiple reasons: the beauty of the moon is enchanting, the lacemaker sees something spiritual in the moon, the lacemaker recognizes that the lace and the moon have a correlation and ponders it, or the lacemaker might feel some pull to give up worldly life for a spiritual life, seeing the contrast between his or her lace and the majesty of the moon.

Whatever the reason is exactly, or if there is no reason other than what is, this haiku has a feeling of reverence to it, especially when it is read out loud. There is a spiritual tinge to it that is hard to pin down, but you can feel it.

The dash used in the first line points to the calmness of the moment. The lines are paced in common fashion for English haiku, with a short first line, longer second line, and short first line. In terms of sound, the strongest letter is “a,” which seems to increase the reverential mood of the haiku.
A meditative, spiritual haiku, I believe Hortensia Anderson got to the essence of this form with this poem.

– Nicholas Klacsanzky (Ukraine)

Lucia Fontana’s Wind

On By Nicholas KlacsanzkyIn Haiku1 Comment

autumn wind
I’m the pomegranate
I’m its branch

© Lucia Fontana (Italy)
The Mainichi, November 3, 2016

In the first line, we get a direct kigo, or seasonal reference for autumn. Also, the pomegranate is a typical kigo for mid-autumn. Autumn is a month that is often serious and introspective, though it showcases beautiful colors. It is when things are dying all around—leaves, blossoms, fruits, and more—but yet they pass away in such riveting displays that sometimes it almost seems nature is trying to open our hearts to it.

An autumn wind can make the process of life crumbling come faster, and can push the already frail down. In its chilling sound, a melancholy arises that is hard to depict.

However, the world still has compassion. One of the prime things Japanese poetry tries to show is the human heart, especially in relation to nature. In the last two lines of the haiku, the poet expresses, in my opinion, compassion and a connection to the pomegranate tree.

Either metaphorically or scientifically, the poet is expressing her direct connection with nature. Maybe she sees something in the pomegranate tree that is like her, or maybe she is expressing that in reality, there is no separation between things—the space between entities is filled with vibrating atoms and on an atomic level, it is difficult to discern any real separation. In fact, there can physically be no space that contains nothing. In this way, we are connected by an infinite spread of life, all with no space between us.

In this expression of connection, the poet is calling out to the pomegranate tree and says: “You are not alone. In fact, I am actually you, and feel your suffering.” It is a consolation.

Coming down from these philosophical thoughts, we can look at the haiku technically. The lines are paced naturally, with a short first line, a longer second line, and short third line (which is the most common way to pace lines for haiku in English). In regard to sound, the letter “i” features strongly, and I believe it makes the consolation more convincing. The letter “m” on the other hand, supplies a soothing feeling.

Overall, the haiku gives off an atmosphere of both distress and tranquility. This mix of feelings is crucial for haiku to stand the test of time. If a haiku is one-sided, there is less one can get from it. The best haiku have layers of meaning and ultimately, feeling.

– Nicholas Klacsanzky (Ukraine)