Alan Summers’ duskfall

On By Nicholas KlacsanzkyIn Haiku24 Comments

duskfall…
the moon bumps
into a paperboat

– Alan Summers (UK)
(Published previously in The Heron’s Nest vol. XXI no. 4, 2019)

It’s difficult sometimes to summarize a whole story into the shortest possible amount of words, but when someone does it, it becomes a masterpiece. This haiku is one of those masterpieces that shows why haiku is considered as one of the finest forms of creative writing.

‘Duskfall’ with an ellipsis gives the imagery of a silent yet sad evening where there are no activities. The word itself shows the ending of life when dusk has fallen and is followed by darkness. But, the ending of life can also mean a new beginning that is deeper in nature. It looks like the locus of control is shifting from the outer world to the inner one where subtle aspects of nature get active and replace worldly life.

In this haiku, I can see both outer and inner aspects of life where outer life activities gradually enter into the night and let night complete the rest of the story. The moon bumping into a paper boat shows how things delicately work out of realities, especially when they enter into the night where a moon gradually comes close to Earth and touches the temporary or fragile part of life, which is a paper boat in this case.

– Hifsa Ashraf (Pakistan)

Mr. Summers is often experimental and inventive in his choice of words and phrasing. In this haiku, “duskfall” is one such example. It is not a recognized word by the majority of dictionaries but it is intuitively understood. It has a potent imagistic sense to it, with the motion of dusk falling either into place or dropping away. I prefer to think it is the former. As Hifsa pointed out, the ellipsis helps to create movement as well.

The next two lines provide a startling but calming image of the moon bumping into a paper boat. However, we can discern that the moon is not actually hitting the paper boat, but its reflection is.

A fun part of reading this haiku is figuring out the connection between the first line and the next two lines. The haiku seems to say: “the coming of dusk is like the moon’s reflection bumping into a paper boat.” A lot could be interpreted from this, but I feel that the image gives rise to mystery and magic.

What is also curious is that Mr. Summers plays with color with the two parts: dusk being black and the moon and paper boat being white. In a way, the coming of the blackness accentuates the white. I get a sense that the poem could be speaking of yin and yang: the sky and the earth, the night and day, are intertwined and balance each out.

Besides all this thought, witnessing the moment described would be joyous and spectacular, especially in the quiet of dusk. Like in any poetry, haiku have a layer of mental interpretation and a layer of mood/atmosphere. Understanding both can give us a comprehensive picture of a poem.

Another feeling I get from this haiku is the beauty of the “o” sounds in “moon,” “into,” and “paperboat.” These long syllables slow down the poem and create the scene of dusk potently.

It’s difficult to write an original haiku about the moon after 100s of years of tradition of doing so. Mr. Summers has done it through his unique juxtaposition, word choice, and imagery.

– Nicholas Klacsanzky (USA)

rhoucfpca7r01

– Painting by Gareth Naylor.

Réka Nyitrai’s pinned butterfly

On By Nicholas KlacsanzkyIn Haiku2 Comments

pinned butterfly –
even in death
beautiful

– Réka Nyitrai (Romania)

(published previously in Scryptic issue 2.4 December 2018)

I liked the simplicity of this haiku that straight away touched me deeply. We mostly mention living creatures in our poems as a source of inspiration but this unique haiku took another unique dimension of life which itself is full of life.

‘pinned butterfly’, if I imagine, means the transformation of life into death but still finds its way to get the attention of the masses. When we pin something, we try to highlight it on a wall or board or any other place where it can be seen by many people. It also shows how things become important after death, and especially how death carves their beauty and makes them immortal.

Yes, this happens only through imaginative and creative thoughts that never die. Our thoughts and creativity make things immortal no matter what stage of life they are at and whether they are alive or dead—whether they are dynamic or static. The only thing that matters in the imaginative world is how we make things alive and immortal through our creative thinking. This haiku is the epitome of the imagination that takes us to a static stage of life where butterflies don’t flutter, don’t leave trails, don’t fly high, and don’t spread fragrance. It is a meditative stage of life where one finds existence in stillness and in deep silence. The en dash after ‘butterfly’ means a short pause which also reflects the stillness of life both during the creative and/or meditative process.

– Hifsa Ashraf (Pakistan)

This haiku brings to mind how beautiful endings are at times. Sunsets. Outros in songs. A person’s last words. A pinned butterfly.

The beauty that the poet sees in the pinned butterfly brings it back to life in a symbolic sense. It is alive with color and elegance, albeit in stillness. But by pinning the butterfly, we can relish it’s beauty forever in a certain moment. That moment happens to be its death.

Getting technical, we can say this haiku displays muga (a Japanese aesthetic), or spiritual selflessness. The poet does not discuss herself and focuses solely on the beauty of the butterfly, in its new transformation.

The dash is useful to make a clear split between the parts. Also, it could visually represent a pin. The economy with which the poem is written is admirable. With only six words, it carries a powerful message. The sharp “i” sounds in the haiku also direct one’s attention to the image of a pin.

Simple yet poignant, this haiku allows readers to contemplate the beauty of the afterlife in its physical sense. It also brings about an introspection on what it means to be alive.

– Nicholas Klacsanzky (USA)

Sphingid-and-little-known-butterflies-from-Africa-1916-s

Isabel Caves’ setting sun

On By Nicholas KlacsanzkyIn Haiku1 Comment

setting sun
a child learns to say
“imaginary”

– Isabel Caves (New Zealand)
(Previously published in Poetry Pea – Haiku Pea Podcast Series 2 Episode 2

The way I see the setting sun in this haiku is more about the transformation from day to night which also means the transformation of one’s focus from the outer world to the inner one. I loved the way the writer cleverly used the word ‘sunset’ positively where all energies converge into darkness but also enlighten the mind.

The second part of this haiku is about the transformation of learning where a child learns in the daylight most probably from nature and dreams or creates through imagination based on that learning. The word ‘imaginary’ here means the abstract thinking of a child which is chiseled by the daily life experiences before that reaches the stage where they start uniquely perceiving the world. It’s about the transformation from one stage of life to another, from light to darkness, or vice-a-versa. I liked the quotation marks around ‘imaginary’ which make it more significant and unique.

– Hifsa Ashraf (Pakistan)

The setting sun in the context of this haiku seems to have two moods:

1) Sad, in that the child learns what imagination is and what it is not. Before, the child had no mental concept of it.

2) The beauty and epicness of a sunset can be compared to one’s imagination.

As a reader, I seem to follow the first interpretation. As soon as we have words for things, we ruin them, in a sense. The mystery, the grandeur, the innocence is lost. Nature is no longer filled with spirits and magic, but are given scientific names and explanations. They become mental concepts rather than something to witness as is. Through mental obstruction, we can lose the child within.

In terms of the sound in the haiku, it seems that the letter “s” is the most prominent. The string of “s” sounds in the first two lines and the absence of it in the last line makes the ending more striking. I’m glad the poet did not add a dash or an ellipsis in the first line as a kireji, or cut word or phrase, which is traditionally seen in haiku. With the quotation marks, it was already enough punctuation, and more punctuation would make it too busy. The format is standard for English-language haiku, although one tries to avoid having one word in the last line in order to not be either too sentimental or pointed. However, it works well here with the quotation marks and as a surprise.

A haiku that touches upon innocence and the loss of it, it’s a powerful tribute to our imagination.

– Nicholas Klacsanzky (USA)

1888-vincent-van-gogh-the-sower

Painting by Vincent van Gogh, The Sower, 1888