Author: Nicholas Klacsanzky

Editor and poet from Seattle.

Christina Sng’s Day Moon

On By Nicholas KlacsanzkyIn HaikuLeave a comment

day moon
everything seems
possible

© Christina Sng (Singapore)
Prune Juice Issue 23

A day moon is always a magical sight. A fixture of the night, the most brilliant one, can still hang around in the day. A constant moon could have many symbolic meanings, such as enlightenment, constant inspiration, the integration of nature, romantic fervor, and more. But in this poem, it seems the poet wants to express wonder. Sometimes, we feel that everything is indeed possible, though it may come upon us inexplicably. Christina has captured one of these elusive moments.

A musical touch is given to the haiku with “m” and “s” sounds. It makes the idea behind the haiku more convincing. The simplicity of the haiku is admirable as well: only five words and no punctuation. There is a saying that you should make a haiku as simple as possible, without harming the reading of it. This haiku is a fine example of this concept. Also, though enjambment (cutting off a phrase in a line) is not often used in haiku, it is employed appropriately as a sense of surprise. An excellent haiku in feeling and technique.

– Nicholas Klacsanzky (Ukraine)

What do you think or feel about this haiku? Let us know in the comments.

James Kirkup’s Butterfly

On By Nicholas KlacsanzkyIn HaikuLeave a comment

A butterfly fans
one buttercup, and then fans
one more buttercup

© James Kirkup (UK) (1918 – 2009)

A tricky one! Maybe it is a reflection on seduction and passionate love.

– Hifsa Ashraf (Pakistan)

Well, I don’t generally like the use of “and” in a haiku. I particularly don’t like the use of the Oxford comma in this. I think it distracts from the language. I am not entirely convinced there is a valid juxtaposition. What do you think?

– Patricia (Switzerland)

Love its visual of dancing from buttercup to buttercup. It is lovely.
At first glance, I thought it gets chopped up by a fan.

– Robert Gillette (USA)

Well, there doesn’t have to be juxtaposition in haiku. Issa didn’t always use juxtaposition. This haiku is playful like Issa’s. I tend to find 5.7.5 syllable haiku quite boring, not always if well written, but this one uses syllables just to fill the quotient. Would this haiku be using the Shasei technique?

– Martha Magenta (UK)

This is an example of a 5-7-5 haiku that really works! It is playful; and although the subject is mundane, it strikes a soft spot in my heart. I would like to imagine the moment as something in slow motion that I wanted to cherish every second of; it is light and colorful as well. In all, a very masterful creation by a modern haijin.

– Willie Bongcaron (Philippines)

A find this haiku meditative, and that it gives readers an opportunity to imagine the scene it describes. It seems we first focus on the butterfly fanning one buttercup, and then our mind moves on to imagine a whole field of buttercups to be fanned. This attention and innocence of the butterfly is admirable.

What is interesting is how the repetition of “butter” in the words “butterfly” and “buttercup” reflect the field full of buttercups (at least that is what I imagine). Another instance of repetition in this haiku is “one” beginning both the second and third line, while the first and second line ends with “fans.”

The buttercup is often a seasonal reference to late spring. Maybe with the coming heat of summer, the butterfly is cooling them down (maybe recreating the mild atmosphere of early spring). The butterfly giving such focused attention humanizes it, and makes us wonder what really separates us from animals.

– Nicholas Klacsanzky (Ukraine)

What do you think or feel about this haiku? Let us know in the comments.

Lori Ann Minor’s Bland Tea

On By Nicholas KlacsanzkyIn Tanka3 Comments

finding myself
as gray
as the sky
sips of bland tea
in the city winter

© Lori Ann Minor (USA)
Prune Juice, Issue 22, 2017

Ennui. I think at one time or another, we have all felt this way. Not depressed, not euphoric, just kind of blah. As we get older, become physically gray, are in a gray sky environment, those feelings do tend to come upon us. Ironically, as I began to respond to this, my wife asked if I would like some tea—she brought some to me, Earl Grey (decaffeinated). I like this tanka—it captures a human, most likely universal experience.

– Dana Grover (USA)

There’s a state called anhedonia that accompanies major depression and is indicative of that condition; sensations are muted and one can’t find pleasure in music, food, sex, or even the little things like a cup of tea. This tanka captures that muted, empty feeling quite well. In climates with long, dark winters, seasonal-affective disorder can be quite common. Here, the gray winter sky is an effective parallel to the ennui the speaker is confessing and the bland tea gives a vivid feeling of those January blues.

– Clayton Beach (USA)

To me, this feels a bit melancholic. “finding myself” plus “city winter” makes me feel that someone used to country life has to spend winter time in the city, perhaps due to an illness. Some people do develop ash-gray skin. Overall, I find this tanka a bit sad, but not overwhelming.

– Laughing Waters (Italy)

The content of this tanka has been sufficiently elaborated on, so I wanted to discuss the sound and pacing of the poem.

The most striking sound in this tanka to me is the use of “y” in “myself,” “gray,” “sky,” and “city.” The employment of “y” seems to point to the severity of the poet’s bland existence. There is also a heavy use of “i,” which slows the pace down, capturing the melancholic mood.

I feel lines 2-4, from the pacing, is the moment of “finding myself.” The last line appears to be an afterthought, as the poet introspects on her connection to her surroundings.

– Nicholas Klacsanzky (Ukraine)

What do you think or feel about this tanka? Let us know in the comments.