hummingbird…
my thoughts come
and go

(1st place in the 21st Indian Kukai)

© Tiffany Shaw-Diaz (USA)

The hummingbird symbolizes the enjoyment of life and lightness of being. Thoughts here may indicate changes in mood. The swift movement of this bird can also be related to the thought process. It seems the person is indecisive or restless due to these thoughts.

– Hifsa Ashraf (Pakistan)

This lovely haiku could mean many things to many readers. The hummingbird’s wings move in the pattern of an infinity symbol—suggesting eternity, and continuity. The hummingbird totem indicates the sweet nectar within, and so it has a deep mystical quality. In meditation, our thoughts come and go, in fact, meditation is in part a process of letting go of thoughts that keep coming, not to fight them or hold on to them, simply letting them go. So, there seems to be nothing negative implied here—it’s all positive. It’s about inner growth, transcendence, and finding the heaven within us.

– Martha Magenta (UK)

It’s about finding one’s centre in the midst of impermanence.

– Malintha Perera (Sri Lanka)

one
word
nailedit

– Ronald Kleiman (USA)

I’m sitting here with my eyes closed (not while I am typing this) and can see in my mind’s eye the flitting and diving of the hummingbirds that visit my yard, often flying directly in front of my face and hovering, as if asking “what are you doing here?” Then flying off somewhere so quickly it is hard to see them go. Kind of like my thoughts. I’m hearing something being said which makes me think of something else, and off goes my mind, flitting and diving, missing what else is being said. Thoughts, coming and going, like a hummingbird, are what makes us alive, what makes life worth living.

This is a wonderful haiku.

– Dana Grover (USA)

The interesting thing to me here isn’t that thoughts come and go, but how much they move when they are seemingly in place. A hummingbird, even when hovering, is a very busy, restless, bird. As an unsuccessful meditator, I can relate to this poem. Even in moments of apparent stillness, my mind is unable to rest.

– Dave Read (Canada)

Since the content has been commented on extensively, I will touch upon the sound and rhythm of the haiku.

The most prominent letters in the poem is “m” in “hummingbird” and “my,” and “o” in “thoughts,” “come,” and “go.” The “m” sound mimics the flapping of the hummingbird’s wings, and the “o” sound provides a feeling of leaving or passing, which the last two lines discuss.

The rhythm of the haiku is meditative, especially with the ellipsis. From the rhythm of the haiku, you can feel the state of meditation the writer was in.

This haiku is like a Zen koan without the riddle, in that it puts you in a state of pure awareness without thought.

– Nicholas Klacsanzky (Ukraine)

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

Freezing wind
the dancing clothes
stiffen into people

Frogpond, 31:1, 2008

© Ken Jones (1930 – 2015) (UK)

When love and kindness is not returned, it takes the joy away from people.

– Malintha Perera (Sri Lanka)

This reminds me of when I was a youth living in a really cold part of the world. Mom would do the washing, hang the clothes outdoors (in winter), they would freeze stiff, and when they were brought in, she would stand them by the stove to unfreeze. Seems perfectly normal to me.

– Dana Grover (USA)

If I was writing it, I’d put “stiffen” at the end of line two.

– Eric Lohman (USA)

Straight away, you are transported into a bleak picture… freezing wind, yet the next line ‘the dancing clothes’ seems almost joyous, a festive celebration. Then the reality strikes… ‘stiffen into people’.

This haiku has joy and sadness, a mixture of emotions.

On first reading, we have a happy yet harsh scene… that moment when even the festivities become too cold to enjoy fully.

Maybe the author has seen this ‘dancing clothes’ from a distance yet through the ‘freezing wind’ and as the author nears the scene, it becomes apparent they are only actually people… a far-to-near focus that feels quite disappointing.
Most of us have experienced extreme cold at some point and can relate to the ‘stiff clothes’ syndrome!… but also, as we get older, our bones feel like they are doing the same!

Is it just the clothes stiffening? Possibly attitudes are ‘stiffening’ too as the occasion becomes lost in a freezing wind!

I believe this haiku is showing us that while dancing and fun is being had by all with everyone joining in and interacting, once it is too cold (possibly metaphorically) everyone becomes how they were before… no interactions, everyone going about their separate lives oblivious to each other.

– Brendon Kent (UK)

I can relate to this happening to clothes on a line and to people as they get older. I remember my grandma hanging washing on the line, and how the clothes would freeze and become stiff as boards. People also become stiff with age, both physically and mentally, losing the joy and flexibility of youth.

– Martha Magenta (UK)

Well, a really nice idea—if I wrote it, I would have made it shorter:

freezy wind
dancing clothes
stiffen people

– Hannes Froehlich (Germany)

The content and its message has been sufficiently touched upon, so I would like to mention the sound and rhythm of the haiku. To me, the strongest sound in the haiku comes from the letter “i” in “freezing,” “wind,” “dancing,” “stiffen,” and “into.” It seems to give the sense of cold that the haiku portrays. Also, the significant sound of “z” of “ff” makes a palpable impact on the reader. The word “stiffen” hits the reader hard, and makes for a solemn rhythm in the last line, which adds to the mood of the haiku.

– Nicholas Klacsanzky (Ukraine)

Ken Jones was not only a haiku poet, contributing regularly to UK haiku magazines and represented in British and American anthologies. He also played an important part in pioneering the western development to the haibun—an ancient Japanese prose poetry genre.

Ken Jones was until 2013 one of three editors of the print journal, Contemporary Haibun, and the online journal Contemporary Haibun Online. For his contribution to Pilgrim Foxes: Haiku and Haiku Prose, co-authored with Jim Norton and Sean O’Connor, Ken was awarded the Sasakawa Prize for Original Contributions in the Field of Haikai. He resided in Ceredigion, Wales with his Irish wife, Noragh. (The Living Haiku Anthology)

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

my late night
mystery caller
Northern Lights

Joint winner, tinywords challenge, N° 17.1, March 2017

© Lee Nash (France)

This haiku is very pleasing. I wonder why the word “my” is used in line one. The Northern Lights are beautiful to look at. For me, it’s hard to determine the season, because the area where you can see the Northern lights are closer to the North Pole and you can have the pleasure to see them during six months of the year. Line two is strong—it is my favorite line in this haiku. I wonder if this would work better:

late night
my mystery caller—
Northern Lights

– Laughing Waters (Italy)

The Northern Lights may indicate the “aurora” that has many patterns and colors. The narrator could be a lonely person who is having a sleepless night or maybe he is an introvert who wants to explore more of her own self.

There could be a spiritual meaning behind this haiku, where the aurora can be related to aura, a sort of feeling that we have during meditation. The colors, sounds, and lights all can be experienced during meditation.

There can be a religious aspect as well, implying that the narrator prayed late at night and asked for forgiveness, peace, and serenity in her life.

– Hifsa Ashraf (Pakistan)

I like the twist. You think the mystery caller is a person, but it turns out to be the Northern Lights. He’s probably up late, unable to sleep, and catches the sight of her caller.

– Marilyn Ward (UK)

I agree with Marilyn—this is a very interesting juxtaposition. The poet has a late night mystery caller (line one and line two) which turns out to be the aurora borealis or Northern Lights. Here the poet might have stumbled upon, late at night, the spectacle that unfolds between April and September in a few selected places on Earth. Here, the poet sees a natural phenomenon that happens rarely—and immediately her attention becomes focused on one of the wonders of nature. Truly, if we just learn to be observant, nature has a lot to offer that would always keep us in awe.

– Willie Bongcaron (Philippines)

When we are in “love” with someone or with life, we see and hear every message in its finest moments on a daily basis. This senryu is quite romantic to me! This evening, “my late night” is very personal. It seems, my “mystery caller” is not one whom I do not know. I know him very well. It is what he will say once I pick up the telephone. That will be the surprise! Everything that occurs in our relationship or those who find love in a person or something is surreal! This is the beauty of finding what is worth living for. Those divine Northern Lights are breathtaking, magical, and it’s a delight to read.

– Cartier Luvit (traveler)

“Northern Lights ” is a very dramatic phrase. First, I was absorbed by this word. In the first line, the word “my” falls into the reader’s mind.

And this haiku’s structure is divided into three parts. Usually, this structure is avoided, but there are exceptional haiku with this structure in contemporary haiku in Japan. Some of them have no story, as if each line’s juxtaposition is a flash. “Cutting” guides the reader to reading haiku.

There are also some exceptional hokku with this structure from Basho. Here is my translation of one:

children!
bindweeds have bloomed
I’ll peel a melon

This is a typical three-parts separate hokku.

– Norie Umeda (Japan)

I enjoy the ambiguity of this haiku. It seems to be suggesting two interpretations: that the mystery caller is the Northern Lights, and that her mystery caller brought up feelings within her akin to experiencing the Northern Lights.

In the first interpretation, there is a mystical undertone, as if nature is speaking to her directly. This conversation with nature could have been spontaneous, and therefore he calls it a “mystery.”

In the second interpretation, when someone we love or care for calls unexpectedly, a torrent of emotions and memories usually pulse through us. This experience can be said to be like the Northern Lights in their phenomenal display.

If we look at the sound of the haiku, the most prominent letter used is “l.” To me, the “l” sound gives a sense of awe and excitement, which in turn is closely related to the viewing of the Northern Lights.

I also enjoy the lack of punctuation, which adds more readings to it. The pacing of the haiku is unpretentious for such a grand display as the Northern Lights. I think this works well in its favor, as often poems are dampened when poets overstate and over-express.

– Nicholas Klacsanzky (Ukraine)

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