Author: Nicholas Klacsanzky

Editor and poet from Seattle.

Mark Gilbert’s Ceiling

On By Nicholas KlacsanzkyIn Senryu2 Comments

chemotherapy
those tiny imperfections
in the ceiling

© Mark Gilbert (UK)
Prune Juice, #22, July, 2017

I enjoy the distance between the two parts of the poem: the chemotherapy, and the imperfections in the ceiling. It is just enough separation to create a spark in the reader’s mind. One mistake haiku and senryu writers can make is having the connection between parts be too near or too far apart. This senryu illustrates a fine balance between the two.

Chemotherapy, as you probably know, targets cancerous cells throughout the whole body, unlike radiation and other therapies. This drastic approach is sharply contrasted with the tiny imperfections the poet sees in the ceiling, probably in a hospital waiting room.

The act of noticing these marks in the ceiling has several concepts behind it: it can be an act of thoughtless awareness, it can be the feeling that a small issue can turn into a big problem later, and it can be envy for the minuscule problems of the inanimate compared to human beings. Perhaps, there are other interpretations as well.

The metaphor of a ceiling is stark to me, as cancer patients may feel that their world, or “ceiling,” is crumbling on them. The barrier between Earth and the heavens (sky) becomes less and less definite.

In terms of sounds, the “p” and “i” letters in this senryu seem to be the most prominent. The “p”s in “chemotherapy” and “imperfections” add a punch to the reading. On the other hand, the “i”s in the last two lines make my attention more acute towards the stated image.

Directly from real life, and from a difficult situation, the poet has expressed much in a understated tone, befitting a fine senryu.

– Nicholas Klacsanzky (Ukraine)

Nicholas Klacsanzky’s New Year’s Eve

On By Nicholas KlacsanzkyIn Haiku, Senryu1 Comment

New Year’s Eve
and also father’s death anniversary—
I have forgotten both

© Nicholas Klacsanzky (Ukraine)

Failed Haiku, April, 2017
(from the book: How Many Become One)

Today, we have a special edition, as we have a father and son commentary team—Mark Salzer being the father, and Jacob Salzer being the son.

1. Obviously, he has not totally forgotten both, else he could not find the words to capture the moment, so I like the irony.

2. “Holidays” like New Year’s Eve, so insignificant in the big picture…dates are so arbitrary.

3. Father’s can be significant people in our lives, but dwelling on the date of death detracts from his entire life and all the entailed moments and meaningful memories.

4. It is good to forget those things that are not so important—live and enjoy the here and now. We all die eventually…embrace that as a part of life, but there is no need to celebrate it per se.

5. Also, it speaks to not concerning ourselves with things outside our control…dates come and go, people live and die….

– Mark Salzer (USA)

One of the great things we have as humans is the ability to forget. This haiku reminds us of this. Dwelling in the past seems to separate us from the “now.” It is always now. It is never not this moment. But the mind cannot understand this, as thoughts are only about the past and future. But we want to act now. Then, we can truly live moment by moment.

The past has its place, and can be referred to at times. It is a part of life, and, like my father has said, it’s important to remember meaningful memories. But it is not a substitute for the here and now. A reasonable resolution may be: remember yesterday, plan for tomorrow, but live for today, for the miracle of this moment is all that we truly have.

– Jacob Salzer (USA)

Jacob Salzer’s Checkmate

On By Nicholas KlacsanzkyIn Haiku8 Comments
checkmate
shadows become still

on the marble steps

© Jacob Salzer (USA)

Chrysanthemum, No. 19, April, 2016
(from the book: How Many Become One) 

Today, we have a special edition, as we have a father and son commentary team—Mark Salzer being the father, and Jacob Salzer being the son.

I would say this is a metaphor for mindfulness.  Our days are filled with many steps—there is a need to pause and be still between the steps.

In dealing with some over-reactive people in my life, I’ve learned to become still, even in the midst of apparent chaos.  I say apparent, because the “emergency” is in their own mind—not real for me, but to empathize, I have to pause and try to understand where they are coming from, their inner “why,”  not react myself with anger or defensiveness…become still on the marble steps before taking the next step, which needs to be a step of compassion most of the time!

– Mark Salzer (USA)

This haiku was inspired by Nicholas Klacsanzky. Playing chess is a meditative activity that involves both movement and pauses. Similarly, there seems to be a natural rhythm to living that revolves around a central point, much like the calm eye of a storm. With the growing demands of daily living, I feel it’s important to remind ourselves to pause sometimes, to simply be, watch, and reflect. On one hand, I feel it’s important to be completely immersed in something at times. On the other hand, I also feel it’s wise to sometimes take a step back and observe. The mind appears to be busy producing ripples on the pond, so to speak, but even those ripples are one with the depth of the pond beneath the surface. So, it seems our daily lives are not separate from the mystery. What are “shadows” in this haiku? For me, the shadows are the great mystery itself: something that is permanently beyond the mind or comprehension, beyond the “me.” It is the unknown breathing life into empty spaces.

– Jacob Salzer (USA)