Brendon Kent’s Navigating Moons

On May 16, 2024May 16, 2024 By Nicholas KlacsanzkyIn Haiku6 Comments

The posthumous book, Navigating Moons by Brendon Kent (February 1, 1958–February 24, 2024) is out. Below are commentaries on three poems from the collection by our three editors. Also, at the end of the post, there is information on how to obtain a copy of Navigating Moons.

every moon out of my hands stardust i return to

Commentary: It has been said that we are made of stardust. In this monoku, the late haiku poet Brendon Kent returns to the Great Mystery of the cosmos and relinquishes personal attachments. It seems “every moon out of my hands” shows humility, as he sees what is beyond us. As another interpretation, “out of my hands” could speak of the poet’s own co-creation of the universe he was (and still is) a part of. When I think of stardust, I think of the essence of life, and traces of a life, still giving light. This is a memorable and important haiku that speaks of the poet’s spirit and the afterlife.

— Jacob D. Salzer

between this world and the next butterfly echoes

Commentary: The overall imagery of this haiku is about the transience of life, revolving around deep experiences that make things so subtle at the end that one feels nothing but emptiness. Butterfly echoes are a reminder of the transformation of life (both within and outside) that runs in an endless circle. So, we are constantly moving between life and death as nothing is permanent here. As Rumi says:

“You don’t live on Earth—you are passing through it.”

— Hifsa Ashraf

so much to say
in so little time!
spring daffodils

Commentary: In light of Brendon’s impending passing due to cancer when this haiku was written, it takes on a mixture of despair and a hint of joy. I believe Brendon realized his life was like spring daffodils: brilliant, bright, and beautiful, but only around for a short time. And indeed, spring daffodils say so much without words. The poet could have been feeling restrained in speech and action due to his cancer and felt he could only be like the daffodils in his communication. One of his last efforts to communicate his message was writing Navigating Moons—a window into not only a cancer journey but also a man of humanity and introspection.

— Nicholas Klacsanzky

Dear haiku friends,

The posthumous ebook by Brendon Kent entitled “Navigating Moons — poems of a cancer journey” is now available.

It contains Brendon’s final published and unpublished haiku, senryu, and more. Much of the book is illustrated with sumi-e or sumi-e-like drawings.

The ebook is available as a PDF file for a donation of 5 euros or higher. Brendon has requested all proceeds to go to Macmillan Cancer Support (an official UK charity).

Your orders can now be emailed to navmoonsbook@gmail.com after making your donation. The subject line should read: “Navigating Moons order.” In response, you will receive an email from us containing the direct link to download the ebook (PDF file).

Donations for UK residents: https://donation.macmillan.org.uk/

We recommend selecting the option to donate in memory of Brendon Kent.

Donations for non-UK residents: www.justgiving.com/macmillan

Other options for non-UK residents are to phone in a donation at +44 207 091 2235.

For further options, check https://www.macmillan.org.uk/donate/how-to-donate or email fundraising@macmillan.org.uk.

A Kindle version of the ebook will be available from Amazon in the future.

Thanks for your support and we hope you’ll enjoy reading it.

Best wishes on Brendon’s behalf.

Anna Goluba’s dreamcatcher

On April 9, 2024April 10, 2024 By Nicholas KlacsanzkyIn Haiku1 Comment

Abandoned house
The dreamcatcher still hangs
In the children’s room

— Anna Goluba (Poland)
Published in Haikuniverse, March 7, 2019

Commentary

I appreciate the mystery (yūgen) of why the house is abandoned. Was it because of physical damage to the house itself that forced the family to move? Or, was it due to other socio-economic factors that the family relocated? The mystery (yūgen) of the abandoned house provides some space for the reader. The dreamcatcher also provides space for the reader’s imagination.

I always appreciate the symbolic importance of the dreamcatcher. According to Indigenous Peoples, the circular shape of the dreamcatcher represents the circle of life and symbolizes that there is no beginning or end. Dreamcatchers are also made of natural materials that reflect the close bond Indigenous Peoples have with the Earth. The web of the dreamcatcher is meant to catch the bad dreams and allow the good dreams to pass through to the person sleeping. In this way, the dreamcatcher is like a spider’s web that filters out negativity. Some dreamcatchers are also decorated with beads, gems, and/or stones, which give them positive energy. Lastly, feathers are also sacred to Indigenous Peoples and are found in dreamcatchers. Feathers symbolize protection, healing, and a connection with the divine.

I appreciate how this haiku transports readers back into childhood. I think a child’s imagination paired with the realm of dreams is very effective. I also feel compassion for the child who was forced to move from the house, for unknown reasons. I think of the dreams the child had when they lived in the house.

In short, this is a haunting and mysterious haiku that serves as an effective portal into the reader’s childhood, their first home, and their dreams. An excellent haiku.

— Jacob D. Salzer

The kigo or seasonal reference in this haiku is not obvious or is nonexistent. However, there is a melancholy feel to the poem; so, I would probably place this haiku in autumn. It’s fine if a haiku does not have an explicit kigo; in Japan, haiku without a seasonal reference (muki haiku) have been popular for about 100 years now.

There is no punctuation in this haiku (an approximation of kireji), yet there is a clear grammatical shift after line one. In English-language haiku, the capitalization of words is not common, though. However, the poet is from Poland, and the haiku community there might have different ideas about the capitalization of words. There is nothing wrong with it and is understandable due to many poets thinking each line of a poem should begin with a capital letter.

The combination or association of parts in the haiku works in stark fashion. The pull between emptiness and the energy/action of the dreamcatcher creates a poignant mood and scene. The ending line enhances the poignancy of the imagery even further.

Looking at the sound of the haiku, I admire the usage of the letter “h.” It’s an uncommon letter to use in succession in poetry, I believe. “h” gives an emphasis at the end of the first and second lines. It also gives strength to the third line as well.

In terms of pacing, this poem follows the conventional short/long/short rhythm in English-language haiku that approximates the rhythm of Japanese haiku. Looking closer at the words used, “the” employed for both subjects “dreamcatcher” and “children’s room” was a smart choice, as both subjects deserve proper respect.

Overall, this haiku combines elements of melancholy, hope, spirituality, and more. Without a word out of place, the poem is effective and touching.

— Nicholas Klacsanzky

Rebel Rose Artistry

Kat Lehmann’s forest stream

On March 3, 2024 By Nicholas KlacsanzkyIn Haiku1 Comment

an answer without end quotes the forest stream

— Kat Lehmann (USA)
Published in Frogpond 46:2, 2023

Commentary

I greatly appreciate how the answer in this monoku is open-ended and ongoing vs. definitive. I think sometimes the best answer is not-knowing and living in the mystery.

Another interpretation is that even if there is an answer, there is space to be more flexible and open-minded (i.e. the answer itself is changing or capable of changing). This also shows that, despite our knowledge, there is a lot we don’t know.

I also appreciate how we don’t know the question in this monoku. This makes the poem very versatile and applies to many different questions and situations. It seems asking questions in general is often a sign of humility. Byron Katie once said: “I don’t know is my favorite position.”

The vitality of a forest stream could be a metaphor for the flow of consciousness when we are not stuck or attached to rigid thoughts, living in the constant flow of “now.” In addition, biologically, we are mostly water. It seems if more people lived like a forest stream, we would live in a much more beautiful world. “Without end quotes” also seems to speak to the continuity of life and could speak of reincarnation or a spiritual river that flows on into the afterlife. A beautiful haiku.

— Jacob D. Salzer

Thinking about the kigo or seasonal reference, it is not exactly clear, as forest streams could be present during many times of the year. However, spring and fall are common times for flowing forest streams in the poet’s part of the world. The poem flows homogeneously like a stream represented as one line. I would vie for spring, as “an answer without end” illustrates the abundance of that season.

There is no punctuation in the haiku, but there are definite ways to section the parts:
1. an answer/without end quotes, the forest stream
2. an answer without end quotes/the forest stream
3. an answer without end/quotes the forest stream

…and possibly more.

This makes it a task to choose just one interpretation, but it also gives it more breadth. The association between the words creates interesting readings, such as between “without end” and “stream”; “quotes” and “steam” (both small but integral), etc. A reader can easily sit and investigate this haiku for a good while without feeling the need to move on.

An important part of this haiku is its sound. The standout letters are “o” and “t.” The flowing “o” matches well with the subject of a stream, and “t” provides a sense of the stream’s power, in my opinion.

I like that the poet did not shy away from the possibility of surrealism. Often, westerners have the false idea that haiku needs to be written with objective realism or as an objective sketch. Subjectivity has been a cornerstone of Japanese poetics, and haiku, since its inception. Sometimes, westerners confuse the “sketch from life” approach that Shiki proposed with strict objectivity when he rather focused on writing from one’s life experiences and occurrences (including individual feelings).

This is a haiku to make you ponder and perhaps create your own meaning with. Original, imaginative, and verging on the surreal, this poem has a lot to offer.

— Nicholas Klacsanzky