Michael Dudley’s prized canary

On By Nicholas KlacsanzkyIn Haiku4 Comments

lockdown raised
  at sunrise he releases
       his prized canary

— Michael Dudley (Canada)
(27th Kusamakura International Haiku Contest, Second Prize)

Commentary

I appreciate the notion of freedom and non-attachment in this haiku. I also appreciate the shift in perspective from a confined space to the limitless sky. What was once highly valued and clung to is now released. It seems giving space is a gift in itself, and I admire how our attention shifts from what is seen to what is unseen in this poem. In turn, maybe the very notion of “mine” is released with the canary, as this beautiful bird returns to their true home outside of human civilization. Perhaps by releasing the sense of “me” and “mine,” we can rediscover our spiritual home as well. A beautiful haiku.

— Jacob D. Salzer

This haiku in a cascading style makes me think about its formation before I interpret it. It seems the person wants to convey a specific message through this style that can be read both horizontally and somehow vertically. The cascading style stops us so that we read the poem step by step before reaching a conclusion. I see it as if something is going down or ending nowhere.

Lockdown raised but what? It could be anxiety, uncertainty, frustration, or something that has a great impact on the person’s life that is being referenced. The past tense at the end of line one stresses the grave effects of the tense situation due to the lockdown. The sudden shift to the present in line two shows how smoothly the person has gotten over what he has been going through (maybe for a long time). 

The sunrise brings hope and warmth to one’s thoughts and feelings. We can feel the way the sunrise provides a sense of relief or healing. I see it as if the person is liberated after having a change in thoughts or has detached himself from what he may hold dear. This line stands alone, where one can try to guess what the whole story is.

The prized canary may have an association with the person’s life in terms of honour, achievement, memorable event, etc. But, it also symbolizes a hope for the future where the person in question has stepped over the barrier of attachment and possession. If it is a pet bird, then releasing it at the time of a lockdown is the realization of freedom, which often comes through rigorous life experiences. 

— Hifsa Ashraf

If we try to figure out the season this haiku is placed in, it is not so easy. However, if I had to pick one, it would be spring. Not only is it a season with less disease (“lockdown raised”), but it is also the time when canaries are more active. Spring, in addition, symbolizes a new life—corresponding well with “sunrise” and “releases.”

The two parts of the haiku can be delineated from the grammatical pause after the first line, or even after “at sunrise.” So, punctuation is not quite needed.

The association between the words “raised” and “releases” is quite deliberate, I feel. Furthermore, the color of the sunrise and the canary are most likely similar, if not yellow. Both the canary and the sunrise are not only colorful but also bring hope and pack a punch though one lasts a short time (sunrise) and one is small (the canary).

The spacing of the lines brings about a sense of release and perhaps steps to that letting go. However, the lines still approximate the traditional rhythm of haiku in Japanese in terms of syllables with a short first line, a longer second line, and a shorter last line.

In terms of sound, the haiku prominently features the letter “i” in “raised,” “sunrise,” and “prized.” Through this sound, it creates a starker mood for the haiku and points to the importance of the canary.

With a unique format, the implication of color, a keen sense of sound, and relatable kindness, this haiku deserves study and ponderance.

— Nicholas Klacsanzky

“The illustrated book of canaries and cage-birds, British and foreign” (1878) Public Domain

John Pappas’ returning geese

On By Nicholas KlacsanzkyIn Haiku1 Comment

returning geese
a few more pebbles
on her headstone

— John Pappas (USA)

Commentary

I appreciate the message of returning to the headstone of someone who was well-loved. I like how returning speaks of the cycles of the seasons as well. I also see the small pebbles as symbols of humility and modesty. The pebbles that were already there could have been placed by the poet last year or over several years, and/or some of the pebbles could have been placed by other people who knew and loved the person.

In addition, by returning to their headstone, we are reminded of our limited time here in a single human life. This puts our lives into perspective, which I think is much needed in today’s modern world. I often think cemeteries can help us reflect and reevaluate our lives and our values.

I also like the first line very much because it depicts a migration. In turn, I believe our souls are also migrating and will go to another dimension after death. The well-known saying: “Birds of a feather flock together” also comes to mind when I read this haiku. It seems the poet resonates with the energy of the person who passed away, and their spirit lives on, in many ways. I can feel a unity of spirits or souls and a deep, prevailing silence in this poem. A beautiful haiku.

— Jacob D. Salzer

A very deep and thought-provoking haiku that tells the story of our short-lived journey in this world. Returning geese depict a migration or departure to another place temporarily and coming back to a place where they belong. It leaves us with a few questions: is it the departure and return of loved ones of the deceased person who was buried? Is it the departure of war victims who left without their loved ones (maybe dead in a war) and came back after peace? Is it a spiritual journey where one thinks more about annihilation and our short life span? Is it the time when someone comes back after feeling the absence of a deceased person?

I take it as an inner journey when a person, after having a lot of harrowing experiences that usually keep them away from their essence, comes back and finds the whole journey nothing but anonymity and annihilation. The obvious interpretation of this poem may be the death that symbolizes more of what is being missed about “her.” Is she a significant person in many ways? A few more pebbles on her headstone may be taken as her identity after death or the way one tries to pay tribute to her in a modest way.

In short, this haiku to me is about oscillating between life and death symbolically, where a person moves between outer and inner selves, with their life experiences pushing and pulling them towards their end.

— Hifsa Ashraf

Pinning down the season referred to in the first line is not so easy, but “returning” is most likely pointing to when geese come back to their nesting sites after winter. This means that the first line could be a kigo (seasonal reference) for late February to early March, but it depends on the region. In Boston, where the poet resides, Canadian geese can be seen almost any time of the year. 

There is no punctuation in this haiku, but the cut between the two parts of the poem is felt after the syntactical shift at the end of line one. I can imagine an ellipsis being used on the first line but it is not needed for the poem to work. 

How the two parts combine is intriguing. I think the key word is “returning” as it can easily relate to the pebbles being put on the headstone. The headstone is most probably made of a type of rock, and the pebbles being laid there either by natural circumstances or by human intervention connects to “returning” well. The pebbles could also be an indication of the headstone coming apart and slowly going back to its original form found in nature. Lastly, I can just as well imagine the geese dropping pebbles on the headstone—though unlikely.

In terms of sound, the letter “r” features strongest in my eye. The effect is that it has a “pulling” sound which matches with the idea of returning. In addition, the letter “e” provides elongated syllables that connect to the sense of “a few more.”

Finally, the pacing of the haiku fits the standard for English-language haiku with a short first line, a longer second line, and a short third line. This approximates the rhythm of traditional Japanese haiku.

This haiku has a fine sense of mystery and imagery, which allows readers to interact with the content on different levels.

— Nicholas Klacsanzky

“Mud Season” by John Sloane

Ian Gwin’s faceless flowers

On By Nicholas KlacsanzkyIn HaikuLeave a comment

faceless flowers how
to mind this flesh and bone
in an age of steam

— Ian Gwin (USA)

Commentary

The initial message I received in this haiku is a warning to not become another “gear in the machine” in a modern capitalistic society that seems to promote conformity and the accumulation of material objects. “Faceless flowers” seems to be a metaphor for perhaps certain workers who may, unfortunately, not feel truly valued or seen. However, I also read “faceless flowers” to perhaps mean some people are ignoring Nature. I wonder if this haiku is saying that it’s difficult to see some people’s unique individuality through the steam of modernity that can sometimes cloud our vision. 

This reminds me of a chapter in the novel A Wrinkle in Time by Madeleine L’Engle where all the suburban houses look the same and all the children are bouncing balls on their driveways at the same time, much like robots. The children also all went inside their houses at the same time, on a precise schedule. Later on in the novel, it was discovered that a large brain was controlling the actions of the people on this planet. This telling symbol of mental conditioning seems to relate to this haiku. The mention of steam also brings to mind steam engines in trains and their environmental consequences. 

“How to mind this flesh and bone” seems to translate as: “How can I take care of myself in mind, body, and spirit within modern society and feel a true sense of belonging?” It seems this is something many of us strive for and struggle with to some degree. This body that is made of the Earth’s elements seems to be disconnected from the Earth in a concrete city. As a result, do some people sometimes feel like “faceless flowers?” Are we being conditioned to believe modern city life is “normal?” Do the majority of people truly believe that “more is better?” Are we often blind to the origins of the products that we buy? Do we pay too much attention to marketing? Have our values largely shifted to a productivity-based model that ignores creativity? These are the questions that come to mind when I read this haiku. It’s a powerful poem that faces the subjects of identity, our values in modern society, and our connection and/or disconnection with Nature.

— Jacob D. Salzer

This haiku has some traditional phrasing we don’t see often these days. Through its phrasing, it presents streaks of modernity and dystopia, showing a world that is transforming from the traditional to the modern era with the sense and love for nature gradually degrading.

I see the faceless flowers as a lack of communication and connection with what is happening due to a fast-paced life. People are more involved in the artificiality of things and becoming akin to robots who keep on striving for success and satisfaction. In reality, they are far away from their essential nature.

— Hifsa Ashraf

The haiku’s season could be placed in spring with the reference to “flowers” as a kigo. However, flowers bloom in several seasons.

This haiku displays unique phrasing and line breaks, with “how” sticking out on the first line and no comma before it. The sound of the line works well and puts focus on the question. You can say the “cut” (kireji) is invisible before “how” but it is syntactically evident while reading.

How the two parts of the haiku combine (toriawase) creates perhaps a comparison between humanity’s loss of identity through industrialization and the faceless faces of flowers. Essentially, through technology and our actions, we have become cogs that somehow have to maintain ourselves despite dehumanization.

Like Hifsa noted, the diction of this haiku is intriguing, especially in the second line. Also, the sound made by the letter “f” manifests a sharp resonance that matches the bitter mood. The last line has softer sounds to perhaps make a somber effect.

Ian Gwin has crafted a fresh haiku with creative phrasing, diction, and symbolism.

— Nicholas Klacsanzky

The Engineer’s Handy Book, 1884, Stephen Roper