Martha Magenta’s Reincarnation

reincarnation
each raindrop
lost at sea

© Martha Magenta (UK)

Here we have not only the philosophical concept, but we can add the simple dictionary definition of reincarnation: “cause to appear in a new form.”

For me, I drop the philosophical implications (for haiku purposes) and think about the work and cycles of nature, causing appearances in a new form.

L1, reincarnation, in relation to water gives rise to the imagination of
many new appearances, such as clouds, icicles, steam, or being revived by a splash of cold water (in the face) when you’ve fainted, or become hysterical. Restoring the balance in nature; is there hysteria in the natural world? It seems there is a lot of it in the animal kingdom.

L2, the poet narrows the view to individual raindrops, raising questions in my mind such as, how vast is this “nature” that we are part of, and are we inextricably linked to all things, never to leave the cycle; we can change appearances, but can never leave.

L3, is a little jolt in “lost at sea” which leaves us wondering if we even know what we are part of. It is a juxtaposition of possible questions
without clear answers; there are no strict boundaries in the waters and the boundaries that do exist are in a constant state of change; gaining new form/appearances.

I love this little surprise and the mood that it gives to the haiku and reader. There is a true feel of being “lost,” “insignificant,” and “humbled” by all that is.

Martha connects the haiku with an image of rain on the sea. As usual, I didn’t include the image so we can focus on the word-mood and build our own internal images from this exemplary poem.

Thank you Martha for sharing this one and for approaching the depths of such a concept as “reincarnation.” It’s a power word, for sure, but you have used good taste and selection of the accompanying words, therefore the haiku works well. Bravo!

– Edwin Lomere (USA)

Eva Limbach’s Battlefields

It is not often that I get teary-eyed while reading haiku. Haiku are no doubt emotional poems sometimes, but their objectivity and lack of overtly poetic language sometimes hides emotions in the depths of a reading.

dandelion fluff
the battlefields
so far away

© Eva Limbach (Germany)

But with reading Eva’s haiku, I immediately felt the emotional impact. It was kind of inexplicable, but I will try to write about it. Maybe it was the motion of the dandelion fluff floating through the air in my imagination and how it relates to the seemingly frivolous nature of soldier’s lives. Or maybe how we can only watch the terror of war from a distance, and the dandelions represent a visual of the souls that may be leaving the bodies of the fallen. Or even the feeling of helplessness of knowing that we can’t do anything to stop wars from occurring.

Dandelion fluff is at once beautiful and unimportant. Maybe Eva is showing how heroes of war are at once magnificent examples of human honor and courage, while also being given to the jaws of death without much remorse for a questionable end. By the mood of the haiku, I feel it is expressing how we do not respect the lives of those who gave their lives for principles.

But whatever the exact meaning is, it may not matter. Drawing an inexplicable feeling from a reader is a sign of a true haiku. If one can explain a haiku easily, most classical masters of haiku would say that it would be not be a true haiku.

On another note, the pacing of the lines bring out the emotion of the haiku, as does the sound of the haiku. It can read easily and each line seems to carry a certain gravity. The word “dandelions” and “battlefields” work strongly together in sound, and so do “fluff” and “far.” Part of the magic of such a small poem is that it leaves an awe-inspiring effect on the reader. With this added sense of sound, the haiku becomes more enchanting, despite its grim message.

The word “so” works to bring out the emotion. Though this word is often advised not to use, it works well, as the lack of words makes the emotion much sharper.

I think Eva got at the heart of haiku with this one: compassion through perspective. She reminds us of events that are happening each day, but of which we often forget, and sometimes entirely bypass.

– Nicholas Klacsanzky (Ukraine)

Lucky Triana’s Firefly

falling star
on my dinner plate
the firefly

© Lucky Triana (Indonesia)

One of the finest examples of simplicity and comparison that I have found in recent months.

The poet posted a picture, but, I’m not including it. These words say everything and leave us to imagine the infinite cycle of life–especially the decay and swift end.

She has taken the stars and put them on a plate for us, using a “firefly!”
It is as though we are partaking of the greater majesty of existence
at our own dinner table.

Thanks Lucky Triana for capturing a little light and giving us something of the infinite, yet fleeting.

– Edwin Lomere (USA)