Haiku by Ivy Raff, Sushma A. Singh, and Daniela Misso

On December 28, 2024 By Nicholas KlacsanzkyIn Haiku2 Comments

Mist runs fingers through
green tendrils of mountain hair
One soulmate? A myth

Commentary from Jacob D. Salzer:

I think the first two lines are original and interesting. They show what the third line tells. I appreciate the notion regarding the dangers of relying on one person to meet so many needs in life. Ultimately, I am averse to the idea of a soulmate, which seems to have become a cultural norm in the West.

This is a 5-7-5 haiku. While there is nothing wrong with 5-7-5 haiku, I would encourage the poet not to be solely restricted to this format when writing haiku in English.

It’s also interesting to include questions in haiku. Most times, I feel leaving the question open to the reader is most effective. In this haiku, the question is answered, which may be too telling for some readers. Still, I feel the juxtaposition is strong. I think this haiku is an excellent start to a conversation about relationships, marriage, and divorce. An interesting haiku.

Here is a statistical article on divorce in the U.S.: https://www.forbes.com/advisor/legal/divorce/divorce-statistics/

summer visit
mother fits into
a smaller hug

— Sushma A. Singh (India)
The Heron’s Nest, Issue 4, December 2018
Shortlisted for The Touchstone Awards 2018
Red Moon Anthology 2018

Commentary from Hifsa Ashraf:

Sometimes, we don’t need a lot of words to tell our loved ones how we are feeling about them. A heartfelt moment is enough to say it all.

‘Summer visit’ indicates vacation time or long days. Either way, the person wants to have spare time to spend with their mother after a long time. Summer days, especially in Eastern countries, are really hot and humid. People usually feel uncomfortable physically and mentally. They need someone around them who can soothe their feelings. Visiting one’s mother is mostly a profound experience where there is deep communication on both sides.

In this poem, we can see the power of non-verbal communication where simply a small hug can make a lot of difference and tell the whole story of her poor health. I also see other hidden aspects here i.e. departure, lonliness, grief, etc. that has a great impact on health. One can feel it if they visit that person after a while.

Lastly, the letter ‘m’ dominates in this haiku with some underlying feelings that are left unexpressed.

a goodbye
lost in the wind
morning swallows

— Daniela Misso (Italy)
Frogpond 46:3, Autumn 2023

Commentary from Nicholas Klacsanzky:

The first aspect of this haiku that I noticed was the pivot line. It can work for both the first and third lines. The two ways the pivot line can be read reveal potent meanings. The second thing that struck me was the sense of sound. The elongated “o”s in the haiku slows the pace and allows the reader to soak in the poem. The string of “o”s also brings about emotions, such as melancholy and sympathy.

With only eight words, the poet doesn’t waste anything. The words “lost” and “morning” are the most impactful, in my opinion. Both may be hints to the kigo or seasonal reference. This haiku could be about the migration of swallows and that being compared to a goodbye being said. In addition, it could be a contrast between the harshness of a goodbye and the joy of morning sparrows. Either way, this haiku strikes several emotional chords and is also technically efficient on top of that.

Kiyomizu Temple in Autumn by Yamamoto Shunkyo, 1891

Haiku by Anthony Lusardi, Charlotte Jung, and Marjolein Rotsteeg

On September 30, 2024September 30, 2024 By Nicholas KlacsanzkyIn HaikuLeave a comment

green caterpillar
carried by black ants
to the colony

— Anthony Lusardi (USA)
Seashores, issue #8, 2022

Commentary from Jacob D. Salzer:

I appreciate this haiku for a few different reasons. On first read, this haiku gives us a real glimpse of the remarkable social intelligence and physical strength of ants. They truly live and work as a community versus a focus on individuality, and by doing this, they accomplish far more tasks than any individual could do alone. Yet this haiku is also showing a stark and swift movement between two worlds. The presumably (and mysteriously) dead caterpillar died prematurely and did not reach metamorphosis to become a butterfly. As a result, the ants now claim it as their own. In parallel with the ant’s colony, it seems colonialism has hindered the spiritual development of our human potential, partly by seeing Nature through a very limited lens to maximize industrial and financial gain, which creates a blind psychological separation and destroys much of life on Earth in the process. When I read “colony” in this haiku, I think of the inherent dangers of pride and group conformity that ignores the critical importance of diversity. On the other hand, when I see a single dead caterpillar, I think of the dangers of extreme individuality. In the end, it seems finding a balance between group/community activities and individual endeavors is important.

While I understand the importance of an interdependent community, I also see this haiku as a warning to not conform to the superficial materialistic values of collective Capitalism because it ignores our spirit and obscures a true sense of belonging. In short, I think our human species is in dire need of a spiritual and cultural metamorphosis or transformation. Hopefully more people will be willing to change their views and lifestyles, embrace diversity, re-commune with the Earth, and align with our deeper Spirit of love and compassion before it’s too late. This is a powerful haiku with multiple interpretations and deep meaning.

on the pond
a film of ice
a leaf’s pirouette

— Marjolein Rotsteeg (The Netherlands)
Japan Society ‘haiku of the week’, week 48, 2023

Commentary from Hifsa Ashraf:

This haiku suddenly captured my attention as I visualized the scene. It’s a wabi-sabi moment. I liked the way the poet blended two of nature’s elements and brought them close together like a juxtaposition. The pond looks like a stage where a film of ice (with a unique structure and position) made the poet see it beyond seeing. This presents creative imagery where a leaf pirouettes on patterns of ice. It must be a sudden frost or an unpredictable change in the weather where everything in nature is frozen and still. I see how certain changes in nature pause the ongoing movements of transformation.

During the pause, let us think creatively! It’s a challenge for our imagination to see things as they are or to take that transformation as something more beautiful, delicate, and subtle. At that time, one can use their energies positively and find solutions in a creative and unique way.

The elevator and me

building

emptiness

— Charlotte Jung (USA/Sweden)
Haikuniverse, 2020, and also in “Haiku 2020,” Modern Haiku Press

Commentary by Nicholas Klacsanzky:

There are several interpretations of this haiku that one could perceive, but first I want to appreciate the use of space between the lines to create a sense of emptiness. It’s a visual aspect that adds more to the haiku effortlessly.

This poem gets us thinking about what emptiness truly is. Thinking about emptiness being built is quite a philosophical exercise. But, I believe in various spiritual traditions, emptiness is not quite like the physical emptiness expressed in science. And, in this haiku, I lean towards the poet thinking along the lines of those spiritual traditions. With this context, an elevator, a part of the industrial world, building a sense of emptiness with a person is profound. Though the elevator isn’t sentient, it can inadvertently generate a spiritual emptiness for the person(s) inside it.

Another take is that the poet feels one with the elevator during the ride up or down and that the building feels or appears empty in this highly focused moment. It is an illustration of a Zen moment or being “in the zone,” where surroundings fade away and hyper-attentiveness ensues.

Though the haiku does not have a seasonal aspect, I believe the connection it shows between the natural (person) and artificial world (elevator) creates a haiku aesthetic. Emptiness is also a traditional Japanese artistic principle, which can relate to yohaku no bi or ma.

Finally, some notes on the sound and pacing. Most haiku in English do not begin with a capital letter but it does not distract too much in my eyes. The first line is longer than the last two lines, where the minimalism lends to more interpretations than if matters were spelled out in more verbose language. For the sound, the letter “e,” and its corresponding sounds in “i,” give the poem a greater feeling of lightness that connects with the theme of emptiness.

Brush drawing by Cornelius Markee, circa 1763

Haiku by Joshua St. Claire, Kelly Sargent, and Daniela Rodi

On June 26, 2024 By Nicholas KlacsanzkyIn Haiku2 Comments

hot sand
my son asks me
about sin

— Joshua St. Claire (USA)
The Heron’s Nest, Volume XXV, Number 3: September 2023

Commentary from Nicholas Klacsanzky:

Living by beaches most of my life, I instantly resonated with the first line. I’ve even seen shoes being melted by hot sand. Anyway, the concept of “sin” is extremely complex and nuanced. I suppose the son is a young boy who has recently taken an interest in either church studies or philosophy. Many times, parents don’t have succinct or clear answers to children’s questions, as they are still trying to work out the answers themselves.

I can feel the humor in this haiku as well, as perhaps the father has been dealing with some “sin” and doesn’t want to teach something he doesn’t subscribe to himself. In some faiths, it is taught that everyone is a sinner, and the hot sand is a fine representation of that.

Looking at the technicalities, I enjoy the “o” sounds that mark exasperation and the “s” sounds that mimic the hiss of hot sand. I also admire the pace of the poem and the twist in the third line. Finally, it has a clear kigo or seasonal reference for summer, which contrasts poetically and humorously with the topic.

mud season again —
the crow’s feet
a little deeper

— Kelly Sargent (USA)
Modern Haiku, Issue 54.2, Summer 2023

Commentary from Jacob D. Salzer:

Slight differences in the season and climate have a significant impact on the health of plants, birds, insects, and animals. Mud season is the period between winter and spring, and is marked by melting snow, rain, and mud. In this haiku, the mud is even deeper than the year before, which could be due to climate change. This haiku conjures up compassion for the crow who is or was stuck in the mud. This haiku could be in the setting of someone’s yard in a suburban environment or somewhere in Nature. While the haiku focuses on the crow’s feet or footprints, I simultaneously envisioned the crow’s strength as he or she flies away. In this haiku, I also think of Indigenous legends that involve a crow. In short, this haiku has vivid imagery and makes us think about our impact on the Earth and many other species. May we choose to live more mindfully with more awareness and compassion.

the longest journey…
a falling leaf
returns to dust

— Daniela Rodi (Finland)
Selected, 10 winning works, The 5th Basho — an International English Haiku Competition 2023

Commentary from Hifsa Ashraf:

It’s a concise poem with a clear meaning of death, annihilation, or transformation. “The longest journey” may be specific to death or a spiritual/inner journey. In both cases, the person reaches an eternal or purposeful destination. The falling leaf in the second line tells us about the annihilation, end of life, or transformation. A leaf can reflect life stages where one passes through rigorous experiences and eventually reaches the end where existence has become nothing or loses its superficial meaning.

A falling leaf depicts transformation, as according to nature’s rules, one stage of life transforms into another in a set period. ‘Returns to dust’ is about our origin which means no matter what, all of us have to meet our genesis one day in the form of death or the true recognition of who we are. The latter can translate to understanding the ultimate purpose of our lives.

This poem shows how selflessly a person continues their life after fading away, or after having deep experiences, where a materialistic life or possessions mean nothing and humility become one’s true virtue.