the puddle
brimming with sky
alone at dusk

© Carl Mayfield
(published in Modern Haiku 43.3 Autumn 2012 and High Desert Cameos by Carl Mayfield)

The opening line of this haiku shows the stark part of life that one faces after rainy days. The puddle reflects the deep reality of life that brings loneliness after those rainy days, mirroring the personal deeds or mistakes that take a person to the stage where they feel alone and helpless.

I love the way the poet used juxtaposition to connect both Earth and sky. The sky could be dreams, wishes, longing, and even hope that keeps on coming to the person who has lost everything and he or she relies on them. The sky also shows openness and meditative thoughts that give clarity to the person by brimming or supporting his or her reflection in the puddle. It may also give a sense of realization that a person has when alone at dusk. The dusk comes with various colourful shades of life that may be positive or negative. A person who relies on their fate can finally get a nature-giving helping hand, especially at dusk when all feelings and thoughts converged in certain beliefs and prayers.

The earth and sky are well connected in this haiku by a sky that provides a platform where a person can revisit his or her thoughts and analyze them at dusk, when there is complete silence all around that provides an ideal time to think over about what’s next in life after losing everything.

– Hifsa Ashraf (Pakistan)

This haiku is quite interesting. The images captured my mind. Whether it’s a late sun shower or a cloud-filled sky, the poet, in my opinion, left enough space for me to resonate with.

The last line further adds more interpretations of what or who is alone. Is it the puddle or someone observing it? Such openings for the reader to think about and envision to me makes a wonderful haiku.

Note* The word “dusk” is considered a micro kigo which is a moment within 24 hours.

– Fractled (USA)

The small containing the vast. The vast reduced to the small. The power of focus and contentment in being solitary. I think these are the main themes of this haiku.

The last line, however, is a mystery. We don’t know if the line is referring to the puddle or the author, or perhaps a person in view. This uncertainty only adds strength to the poem.

The structure is also interesting. It can be read as one part or it having a break after line two. If it is read in one go, you can even say the last line is talking about the sky being alone at dusk. So, a seemingly simple haiku can derive many interpretations based on its format and pacing.

The sound makes this haiku balanced sonically. The “l” and “d” sounds give it a good mix of soft and hard sounds.

My only qualm with the haiku is that though it is highly effective and meditative, it is not so unique. However, with its original format, I think it makes up for this.

– Nicholas Klacsanzky (USA)

Did you enjoy this poem and commentary? Please let us know in the comments.

– Ocean Borderings by Arthur Okamura (1932-2009)

starlight
my baby’s last day
within me

© Tia Nicole Haynes (USA)
Incense Dreams 2.2, 2018

When I read this haiku, I could not understand it completely. I felt it was missing something. However, I saw that it has two possible interpretations for me:

1. The first scenario is of a mother who has decided upon getting an abortion. In spiritual traditions, the soul can neither be created nor destroyed. Physical bodies are merely vessels to contain it. Maybe the mother thinks after the abortion, though her baby ceases to exist within her, her soul will still exist as eternal as starlight. It may be a consolation to her—a way to assuage her guilt over the decision.

The second scenario is something like this: it is the day of her child’s birth but the mother is fearful of bringing her child into the brutal, unforgiving world. But there is nothing she can do except surrender. She believes conscious intelligence, which is responsible for starlight, will take care of her baby too.

This haiku is haunting. It lingers in the mind long after you’ve read it.

– Pragya Vishnoi (India)

A haiku of extreme simplicity, where every superfluous word has
been eliminated, until reaching the harmony of a well-calibrated synthesis. A scene of great silence and contemplation, in which a mother deeply feels the completeness of having within herself an essential part to which she will have to give up. Ephemeral completeness of which the cold light of the stars, in their apparent immutability, acts as a counterpoint.

I am not here to ask myself why this mother already knows that tomorrow her child will no longer be with her. Perhaps she will have a planned birth. Perhaps she has decided not to let him or her be born—a very painful hypothesis that cannot be excluded.

I want to see it as a programmed birth and read this mother as a person that from one thing that is now forming a creature that is about to divide with a psychologically and physically important laceration. Many years have passed since the birth of my daughters, but I remember the sense of emptiness and above all the physical experiences in the following days … I had to let go of a part of my body in a certain sense.

I sometimes try to remember that feeling of total well-being that gave me the feeling of having a moving creature inside me, and I try to remember it with the sensations of the body, not with the reminiscences of the mind.
The key of this haiku is in the “within me” that closes the poem: so important, so well chosen, so firm even in its sound.

– Margherita Petriccione (Italy)

A beautiful haiku that shows a deep connection between a mother and her child. The vast imagery of the universe and its deep connection with a womb is profoundly depicted in this exquisite poem where both outer and inner universes connect through subtle feelings and the imaginative portrayal of motherhood.

The starlight beautifies the space with its soft and gentle light that spreads all over the universe. It looks more like a blanket of sparkling dots that tickles one’s imagination. The mother imagines the same starlight inside her as her baby is close to her and he or she signifies the whole universe that glorifies her motherhood and the inner world. The last day is the celebration of the most beautiful creation of the world: a child. Only a mother can feel and see the whole universe celebrating it with her. The starlight may symbolize the firework that sparkles in her thoughts and feelings due to this jubilant arrival of her baby.

– Hifsa Ashraf (Pakistan)

Did you enjoy this poem and commentary? Let us know in the comments.

– Painting by Vincent van Gogh

winter solstice
i walk the labyrinth
of my mind

– Michael Morell (USA)

This poignant and deep haiku reflects the melancholic feelings of a person who is reminiscing about his past and/or battling circumstances where he is indecisive. The opening line ‘winter solstice’ gives strong feelings of the darkness or shortness of life, where a person is having gloomy experiences. Winter solstice also may indicate the colorless life or annihilation.

The poet who walks through the labyrinth of the mind could be passing through deeper-self-oriented experiences, trying to analyze every aspect of his life by getting involved in his thought process. The mind here may indicate memories that sound traumatic and that create obscure feelings. The labyrinth could be a curiosity, guilt, or conscience that persuades the person to go deeper into the core of those thoughts and memories that take him to the verge of nowhere.

The walk during the winter solstice reflects the fog around him, where he, both within and outside, wants to see the other side of the fog. This may also be a therapeutic and introspective experience that brings the person close to his essence by critically analyzing his thoughts and feelings.

– Hifsa Ashraf (Pakistan)

I enjoy that the connection between the two parts of the haiku is multifaceted. Since a winter solstice occurs in mid-winter, it can easily be correlated to the feeling of someone traversing the labyrinth of one’s mind. In this condition, you can feel stuck and lonely, and maybe lost. A winter solstice also points to the shortest day of the year. Though the mind is more of an abstract, microscopic universe, it can easily become a contorted maze. Also, it is great how the mood of the poem is greatly enhanced by the juxtaposition.

In terms of sound, I noticed the “w” letters quick. They give a sense of strength and slow down the pace a bit, which is fitting for the imagery. Also running through the haiku is the letter “i,” which makes the reading sharp and possibly cold (reflecting the season). Also, the lack of punctuation works well and the lowercase “i” fits in just fine. It diminishes the attention on the poet himself and more on the experience being written about. Lastly, I just want to say how wonderful it is to have the word “labyrinth” in a haiku. It is a rare word in this genre and hard to use. The poet has employed it in a great way, in my opinion.

– Nicholas Klacsanzky (USA)

Did you enjoy this haiku and the commentary? If so, please let us know in the comments.

– The Light Returns by Karen Whitworth

moonbow . . .
in a grain of wheat
a farmer’s song

© Sandip Chauhan (USA)

2nd Place, 2014 International Matsuo Basho Award for Haiku Poetry

This haiku starts with subtle feelings. The writer takes us to the world where serenity tickles all the elements of nature. Watching a moonbow itself brings delightful feelings with the deepest effects. The arc of the moonbow reflects the mesmerizing impact of beautiful things around us that bring blessings in our lives. It also is a kind of celebration and/or reward for the hard work one has done in the field.

In a farmer’s life, the only thing that can bring true blessings and happiness is a golden crop that manifests his or her wishes to fulfill his or her desires. A grain of wheat symbolizes prosperity and wealth, where every grain is full of life. No one else can understand this better than a farmer who has given his or her days and nights to bring golden grains to their final stage, when they are called a treasure of life. The farmer’s song on the harvest day indicates that harmony and genuineness of things that complement each other. The moonbow in the sky, the grains in the field, the song a farmer sings as a whole, displaying a perfect picture of the ideal harvest day.

– Hifsa Ashraf (Pakistan)

A moonbow is reminiscent of the moonlight on a sickle when, in my country, the wheat is harvested in the light of the full moon so as not to face the June sun. During the night, from the valleys behind the last houses of the village, come the songs of the peasants. In the morning, someone gives us an ear of wheat to wish us luck and that calloused hand slips a little grain and shows it to us with satisfaction.

I found everything in this beautiful haiku. I found the sowing, the harvest, the hope, and also the fear of a farmer who lives a life tied to the seasons and the whims of time. I found our life connected to the seasons and the harmony of a world that follows the cyclic repetition of natural events—a world intimately linked to zoka. A large-scale haiku, in which it is possible to dive in-depth and that transmits calm and serenity with a few simple words.

– Margherita Petriccione (Italy)

To me, this reads as a hokku because, in the fragment, there’s a beautiful image followed by a phrase that speaks to me about the sense of time, perhaps fleeting, followed by the ma (thinking space) which are known techniques used for this style of poetry that predates haiku.

I couldn’t find “moonbow” as a kigo reference but this rainbow phenomena happens with moonlight instead of the sun and often appears near waterfalls on a near-to-full moon. So, in a sense, it could be considered a micro kigo which is associated with certain parts during the day e.g. dawn, mid-noon, sunset, etc. But in this case, it’s monthly via the phase of the moon.

What also interested me about this poem is the lack of juxtaposition between the fragment or phrase or in the fragment itself, which further solidifies my thoughts that this is a hokku where there’s “no trickery” in terms of zoka. That is another aspect to this style of writing which Basho is known for. I think his “old pond” hokku did not have juxtaposition either but instead utilized a great use of space and sense switching which led to many scholarly debates.

One can easily argue that this is a haiku as well from a Shiki point of view, who also didn’t use any tricks. Then again, she didn’t use much or any space in much of her work as well.

The phrase is open to interpretation. Perhaps it’s the end of a bountiful harvest or the opposite. It could be a song of jubilation or a somber one with or without the view of a moonbow. Whether this is a haiku or a hokku, the author wrote something very interesting with a beautiful opening line and an intriguing phrase to dive in and ponder on.

– Fractled (USA)

I think this haiku is reflective of William Blake’s poem “Auguries of Innocence.” Here is a famous excerpt:

To see a World in a Grain of Sand
And a Heaven in a Wild Flower,
Hold Infinity in the palm of your hand
And Eternity in an hour.

However, Chauhan’s haiku provides a less direct approach and aesthetic, which is common in finely written haiku. She is comparing the subtle, magical, and mystical event of a moonbow with a farmer’s song in a grain of wheat. One might ask how it is possible for a song to be in a grain of wheat. It does seem a bit fanciful but really it isn’t. The vibration of the farmer’s voice can easily physically enter into the wheat. But I think we don’t want a science lesson, so it is better to talk about what this image implies.

Not only does it reflect an interconnection between humanity and nature but also the cause and effect relationship there is between all things. This haiku can call attention to our actions, whether they are positive or negative. In the case of this poem, the (assumed) joy of the farmer is transferred to the grain of wheat and vibrates with positive energy, so to say. A moonbow, with its subtle stream of colors, is also representative of a synthesis of things.

Overall, the mood is cheerful and mystic. The last line surprises the reader and this astonishment brings a sense of wonder. This is a common goal for many haiku poets: to induce wonder in our readers.

Lastly, it works great technically. The ellipsis in the first line allows the reader to pause to imagine the wonderful sight of a moonbow. In terms of sound, the “o”s work fantastically to create a sense of the length of the moonbow and the song of the farmer. Also, the three “r”s give it a twang that is reminiscent of the language of a farmer.

A delightful haiku that is at once spiritual, joyful, and a celebration of the ordinary.

– Nicholas Klacsanzky (USA)

If you enjoyed this haiku and commentary, please let us know in the comments.

– Art by © Hiroshi Yamamoto

a floating Frisbee—
the river widens
as it nears the sea

© Michael Dylan Welch (USA)

(Published in “Nesting Dolls,” the 2018 Yuki Teikei Haiku Society annual members’ anthology)

A floating Frisbee… in water or in the air? The image of this Frisbee remains mysteriously suspended, as the power of the river appears suspended when reaching the limit of its course, it spreads beyond the banks dividing into a thousand rivulets, almost reluctantly…. The river and the sea are made of the same substance at the bottom, even though each has its own identity—yet in the culminating moment of total unification, it seems the river draws back.

I can’t penetrate the emotion that pushed the haijin to write this verse, but I have had the same feeling when, during a form of meditation, I feel that something is blocking the overcoming of my mental conditioning and hindering my awareness. The poem engaged me with its melodious rhythm and aroused feelings from heart to heart as with the best haiku.

– Margherita Petriccione (Italy)

While some may scoff at the double article word “the,” how this rhymes, the use of two verbs, and what reads as “matter of fact” in the phrase of this ku, one must combine the three lines and loosen their grip on the rules to see that content matters more, which this haiku has plenty of.

Starting with the first line, note that the word “Frisbee” is capitalized, which to me instantly conjures an image of a concave disk that’s used as a pastime or for sport (ultimate) with an emphasis especially with the em dash after the word.

In combination with the phrase where the magic begins, I wonder if the frisbee as defined exists at all in the haiku. The frisbee could also be a whirlpool, hurricane, or a tornado where all have concave disk shapes that spin as a frisbee does, widening the river as it floats to the sea. Perhaps the frisbee does exist but I asked myself, “can it widen a river or is it the writer’s intention to juxtapose an object with the unsaid images not written in the haiku for the reader to fill in?” If so, it’s a masterful technique the author used very well.

Lastly, I believe the technique of “narrowing focus” was used in this haiku but in reverse. Rather viewing it from the top down, in this case, the sea is the wide lens, the river is the normal one, and the frisbee’s focal point is the narrow one, which makes this write all the more interesting.

– Fractled (USA)

It takes a lot of time to understand the depth of a haiku that is written by a haiku master.

This well-constructed haiku reflects the depth of creativity and imagination.
One aspect of it gives me the image of a gliding frisbee that floats freely like our happy feelings and cheers us up both by our recreational and aesthetic senses. When someone is carefree, calm, and relaxed, he or she loves to enjoy the bounties of life and imagine life as free as a flying frisbee.

The other two lines of this haiku show the depth of our feelings that may initiate with a small action but it has a ripple effect. The river may look like a wide smiling face with profound effects that can bring great inner satisfaction.
The other side of this haiku could be a kind of cyclone that may look like a frisbee and bring turbulence in the river’s waters before it ends up in the sea.

Also, the capital letter ‘F’ in frisbee is intriguing, which may reflect the association of the writer with a particular type of frisbee.

Overall, this haiku is a combination of our cheerful feelings or childhood memories that bring its deep effects on our mind and heart.

– Hifsa Ashraf (Pakistan)

Although I am an editor, I did not know before reading this haiku that “Frisbee” is sometimes capitalized. Since it is a registered trademark of the Wham-O company, it is indeed capitalized. Knowing that Welch is an editor, I admire him for sticking to the original.

Anyway, the first line is meditative. The reader takes in the movement and floating of the Frisbee more with the em dash, acting as a pause marker. The musicality of two “f”s in succession makes me think about the sound of the Frisbee tearing through the air.

The second line opens up with the juxtaposition. We come from a Frisbee perhaps in a park to a river. The river could be next to the park, but it could also be miles away. Regardless, I like the image. The intuitive feeling between a Frisbee floating and a river widening is definite. The shape and spin of the Frisbee give rise to the connection. Note also the musicality of the “i” sounds which bring a sense of sharpness.

The third line changes the scene and resolves the second line. When a Frisbee reaches the catcher, it starts to slow down and drag more. This is akin to the widening of the river before it reaches the sea. However, there is more to this image than the facts. I think this is a metaphor about how we act and feel when meeting our death or a goal. We open our hearts and minds more. Luckily, when coming to our end or when obtaining a goal, we approach it with open arms. On a side note, I enjoy the “ea” sounds in “nears” and “sea,” which to my mind brings a calming effect.

This haiku looks simple at first glance, but with its underlying metaphors, meditativeness, and musicality, it is an excellently crafted poem.

– Nicholas Klacsanzky (Ukraine)

Did you enjoy this poem and the commentary? If so, please let us know in the comments.

Art by © Naomi Tydeman

chrysanthemums
the thread slips from
granny’s needle

© Srinivasa Rao Sambangi (India)
Modern Haiku, Issue 49:3, 2018

This haiku is very intelligently crafted. “Chrysanthemum” is a late autumn kigo, hence the fragment itself sets a mood of decay and destruction. The slipping of the thread is poignant in the sensitive portrayal of the loss of abilities which we take for granted in our youth.

The fragment and phrase nicely use the technique of association. There is a struggle against the natural course of things, and in between the lines, we find a glimpse of grace.

One of the deepest haiku I’ve read.

– Pragya Vishnoi (India)

I have an old sewing machine from my mother in my possession, and every time I use the needle for sewing work, I can think of her presbyopic goggles and that thread that avoided the eye of the needle as if it were equipped with its own life…

In this way, this haiku of Srinivasa Rao becomes something that belongs to me, generating correspondence and the widening of perception—the qualities of a good haiku.

Melancholy, impermanence, and the sense of loss are linked to chrysanthemums. Fleeting humor is a classic element that enriches this very touching text. The rhythm of the verses leads from the slow murmur of line 1 to the fluidity of line 2, then almost pausing to savor a memory on line 3.

– Margherita Petriccione (Italy)

The overall theme of this haiku is based on ageing with loneliness and melancholic feelings. I can see a very deep connection between the chrysanthemums and the sewing. The chrysanthemums symbolises grief, sadness, or pain in some parts of the world, but it is also considered as a symbol of joy and optimism. That is why in certain countries, women used to embroider chrysanthemums on skirts, shirts, and tablecloths.

In this case, maybe the granny needs to embroider a chrysanthemum not just to kill time but also to bring back memories of her past. The thread slipping may show the ‘cultural annihilation’ or ‘change of time’ where no one follows old traditions. Being nostalgic, she wants to revive that tradition to overcome her loneliness and melancholy but ageing drains her energy to do so.

It also shows the transformation of time, culture, and traditions where different phases of life are replaced with something new with a little or more acceptance. In granny’s case, she still misses her past life that was full of festivity and traditional activities that are now fading away with time.

– Hifsa Ashraf (Pakistan)

In this haiku, I wondered if it could be a one-liner. But to me, line 1 has a stronger break in three lines even without the use of kireji, which is important because as a reader, it makes me contemplate the kigo word (how it is a fragment in this particular haiku and how it ties to the phrase in the two last lines), which is an all autumn/winter seasonal word in Japan and also its imperial seal.

Chrysanthemums are used as a health benefit for various ailments in its tea form, especially in Asia. To me, the juxtaposition between the words harmonizes rather than contrasts between the words “chrysanthemums” and “granny” because in China the plant represents longevity. What’s interesting to me is that the phrase “the thread slips from granny’s needle” to me can be interpreted in two ways, which can be tragic but if combined with the fragment and the history of the word “chrysanthemum,” there’s also the possibility that there’s nothing wrong with granny and the thread slipped from the needle from daily distractions of life.

In conclusion, this haiku is highly dependent on readers to create context from their own personal experiences, which I believe the author does a great job expressing by telling little.

– Fractled (USA)

The poets above have done a great job discussing the content and technical aspects of this haiku. However, I want to point out how the shape of chrysanthemum petals are akin to a sewing thread. In a way, the chrysanthemums take over the scene as the thread slips from the needle. This creates a continual sense of completeness.

In terms of sound, the “th” sounds in the first and second line make a sound similar to manual sewing. Also, I appreciate the musicality of “slips” and “needle.”

A strong image and powerful juxtaposition that takes a keen look to fully appreciate its beauty.

– Nicholas Klacsanzky (Ukraine)

Did you enjoy the poem and commentary? Let us know in the comments.

– Art by Nishimura Hodo