Haiku by Alan Summers, Royal Baysinger, and Nisha Raviprasad

On January 21, 2025 By Nicholas KlacsanzkyIn Haiku3 Comments

the last one melting
in the snow-jerk’s grip
cola float

— Alan Summers (UK)
The Pan Haiku Review Issue 2, New Year’s Eve/Winter 2023
A Kigo Lab, Special ed. Alan Summers

Commentary from Nicholas Klacsanzky:

What initially drove my interest in this haiku is its unique kigo, or seasonal reference. In the poet’s own words: “After “Soda jerk” a term used for a person who operated the soda fountain in a drugstore, preparing/serving soda drinks & ice cream sodas. A snowjerk is a snow chaser, as the snow decreases in some geographical areas, and increases in other areas. Snow will soon be like diamond dust.” This reflects the effects of climate change.

The first two lines could be interpreted in at least two ways. It may connect to the cola float mentioned in the third line, or an unnamed iceberg or ball of snow. I believe this haiku points to the irony or sadness of a snowjerk melting ice, snow, or a float with their hands. This melancholy is contrasted with the sweetness of the cola float.

There is a fine euphony occurring in the haiku with the “l” and “o” sounds. Also, the pacing of the haiku aligns well with the original Japanese rhythm of this art form. Lastly, though the kigo is unique, the language itself is accessible. Overall, it’s a haiku you have definitely never seen before with pressing topics built in, which makes us pause and ponder.

a dog
gnawing its bone
— re-reading her letter

— Royal Baysinger (Canada)
Modern Haiku, 54.2 (Summer 2023)

Commentary from Jacob D. Salzer:

As with many powerful haiku, complex emotions are implied in the first two lines through the “show not tell” method. In addition to re-reading the letter, there is repetition in the act of gnawing. The em-dash also provides a weighted pause, which adds emotional weight. The fact that the poet is re-reading this letter also tells us that it has heavy emotions within it. As readers, we can likely relate to this experience or enter our imagination in this haiku in our own way.

Using simple words, this haiku has a powerful juxtaposition that balances concrete imagery with mystery. It has room for the reader and is relatable. In short, this is an effective haiku that focuses on the layered complexity of relationships.

ragwort sprouts…
mother pats her wrinkles
with a gentle sigh

— Nisha Raviprasad (India)
Under the Basho, June 1, 2024

Commentary from Hifsa Ashraf:

We all try to compare and contrast many things in our surroundings to justify or satisfy ourselves. In this haiku, the poet relates ageing with the leaf structure of ragwort sprouts which are wavy and wrinkled.

Mother, who is patting her wrinkles with a gentle sigh, is perhaps indicating her feelings of satisfaction that she is not alone. Though her skin is changing, other things in nature pass through similar transformations right from the beginning. The words ‘pat’ and ‘sigh’, though, perhaps show signs of satisfaction and motivation that she gets after seeing ragwort sprouts. There may also be a comparison between the poisonous nature of ragwort and changes in mood, thoughts, and feelings due to ageing that become more cynical or bitter. As ragwort causes skin allergies, I can see an element of fear here where the mother makes herself content by assuring herself that her skin is still healthy despite dangerous risks in her vicinity. She may be trying to accept ageing and adjust to it positively.

Looking at the sound, the letter ‘w’ could indicate the continuous thought process of ageing that can be satisfactory or dissatisfactory.

Kida Kinjiro, 1959, “Melting of Snow in Thinned Copse”

Alan Summers’ nightfall

On October 17, 2022October 17, 2022 By Nicholas KlacsanzkyIn Haiku6 Comments

nightfall the key turns into a blackbird

— Alan Summers (England, UK)

Publication credit:

First published: Blithe Spirit 31.4 (November 2021)

Article:

The Unseen Go-Between in Haiku by Alan Summers
Haiku Society of America Haiku Spotlight (January 2022)

Award Credit

Runner up: Museum of Haiku Literature
Blithe Spirit vol. 32 no. 1 (February 2022)

Commentary

I appreciate the mystery (yugen) in this haiku and the possible interpretations. I initially felt a kind of fantasy-surrealism in this monoku. “The key” could be to a door, and if so, a door to what? Is the key a door that leads inside a physical building or room? Is it a key to a door that leads outside a building? Or, is this a key to a psychological door in the poet’s mind or within someone else’s psyche? In one interpretation, I get the feeling the key is turning and opening a locked door in the poet’s house leading outside. I like how the door does not need to be said in the monoku for me to imagine it.

I think “nightfall” effectively sets the tone and a mysterious atmosphere. I also think the double meaning of “turns” adds more depth to the monoku. Did the key physically turn into a blackbird? Or, did the poet open the locked door and simply saw a blackbird at night? Is the poet dreaming or daydreaming? Is this a monoku about the poet reading a fantasy novel? Did the door release a blackbird from a confined physical and/or mental space? Perhaps a limited physical room could symbolize a confined, limited mind or mental concept. When I see the key turn, I feel a door opening and the blackbird is released and disappears into the night. In that sense, perhaps the spirit of the blackbird is a key that opens the door to the Great Mystery/unseen dimensions of life and simultaneously opens the poet’s mind to a different way of seeing.

If taken literally, I see the key transforming into a blackbird could symbolize how something that appears to be a concrete image (in this case, the key and the blackbird) is actually full of depth and mystery. It’s interesting how a single key can unlock possibilities and also lock a door and protect us from danger. I also get a sense that the blackbird is being honored and respected in this monoku, especially in relation to the night and the Great Mystery. I appreciate how this interpretation resonates with Indigenous spirituality. There are many Indigenous myths and legends about various birds. I also appreciate how this monoku expresses the beauty and importance of having an open mind. The poem encourages us to have the courage to see the world from different perspectives versus staying in our comfort zone and familiar ways of seeing and labeling. An intriguing and powerful monoku.

— Jacob Salzer

Nightfall is a shift in the day which brings mysteries with it. Symbolically, it unfolds a different world that manifests our true state of mind and heart. A time when we rarely see things through the lens of others and try to unfold our own stories. A time when we can fully concentrate on what matters the most in our lives. A time when certain realities are revealed to us through introspection or pondering.

Nightfall in this one-line haiku shows the vastness and significance of time, which motivates us to pause and imagine the scene that may look more inspirational and persuasive in this particular poem. The shift in the poem is the ‘key’ which reveals the mystery or unfolds the story; it can be the cognitive process that productively grasps the whole situation and gives flashbacks; it can be the meditative state of mind that unwinds the day’s fatigue by opening the doors of imagination or mysticism and brings some peace; it can be the solution to a problem when a person finds a creative solution and is able to find a way through critical thinking; or, it can be simply daydreaming when a person seeks solace in imagination and manifests their imagination in the most creative and surprising way, which looks magical in the end.

A blackbird symbolizes mystery, death, and magic but it is also significantly considered a sign of spiritualism or transformation. In this poem, nightfall transforms a person’s life where they can turn the key into something that looks more blissful and peaceful.

Overall, the poet challenges our senses to imagine and capture the vivid image of this poem and lets our creative faculties run wild and find how nightfall can spellbound us to see what we want to see or to see beyond seeing.

— Hifsa Ashraf

The blackbird in England can be seen year-round. However, their mating season stretches from March up until July. So, perhaps this is a spring haiku. This relates well to the key possibly turning into a blackbird, as spring is a time of transformation.

There is no kireji or cutting word in this monoku, which is common in English-language haiku that run as one line. There is a clear grammatical break after “nightfall,” though.

However, you could say the haiku could be read as one flowing phrase, with “nightfall” being a verb that acts upon “the key.” Then, “turns” would be the second part of the haiku.

“nightfall” also goes well with transformation as many things change during the night. Because of the darkness, things can be perceived differently. A person might imagine a key turning into a blackbird. A person might also imagine turning a key and going into an apartment or house and seeing a blackbird in the darkness. In this respect, the haiku might be speaking about human perception and its possible manipulation or trickery. I feel that the night, the key, and the blackbird are ultimately the same.

This haiku is succinct with no word out of place. Also, the lovely soft sounds of the letter L contrasting with the sharp tick of the letter T make this haiku musical and layered.

A haiku that begs to be read over and over, it presents an abstract idea in a concrete sense.

— Nicholas Klacsanzky

Haiku about “dust”

On July 27, 2020 By Nicholas KlacsanzkyIn Haiku9 Comments

Haiku Commentary had a prompt challenge on Twitter that revolved around the theme of “dust.” Here are our favorite submissions and commentary on them.

rising dust . . .
the old argument
resettled

— Marion Clarke (Ireland)

The opening line of this haiku alludes to the visibility, progress, and movement of something very intangible and subtle. ‘Dust’ may reflect resilience, hope, positivity, strength, or life. When a person moves on in life with all these characteristics, they find it easier to understand certain realities of life and their underlying meanings.

When we look back into the past, old arguments look vague and meaningless. We hold fast to our points of view over the years and ruin relationships because our state of mind doesn’t accept them or see through them for a better reflection of the causes of those arguments.

The resettling of arguments means a new perspective on past disagreements or the reasons behind those arguments that bring more understanding of life.

— Hifsa Ashraf (Pakistan)

Haiku often showcase two slices of life that contrast in a unique and meaningful way. Here we have the action of rising and resettling juxtaposed, written in a way that can be taken both mundanely and metaphorically. We can easily imagine by reading this haiku that an argument has settled on an imaginary ground and dust rising from its impact of touching the earth.

— Nicholas Klacsanzky (USA)

my childhood memories
a cloud
of chalk dust

— Paul David Mena (USA)

Childhood memories always remain with us no matter how old we are or how hard it is to get through our lives. We always cherish those memories no matter how bittersweet they are. Those flashbacks of the past look like a cloud of chalk dust that we enjoy for a moment and then get back to our routine lives. This also means that vivid memories are fading away either due to life experiences of both childhood or present or due to ageing. In any case, if words have been erased, only chalk dust remains for a short while. A cloud also shows fading memories or forgetting, where a person loses the details of childhood memories and has only short glimpses of their childhood.

The word ‘my’ depicts the personal experiences of the poet where he finds it hard to remember those memories. The letter ‘c’ in this haiku displays the half circle of those memories that result in mere images or glimpses from childhood without having any significant details.

— Hifsa Ashraf (Pakistan)

I have written plenty of haiku on childhood memories and can say that it is quite difficult to do so. Mena has composed one with power and brevity in a seemingly effortless fashion (the trick is to make it look effortless when it is not). “Chalk dust” has many implications, as it pertains to education, writing, purity, innocence, and possibly more.

— Nicholas Klacsanzky (USA)

dust on your photos
the last fragments of you
that remain

— Shane Pruett (USA)

While the poet is looking at photos of a beloved of his, there remain parts of this person that are still technically alive on the pictures: the individual’s dust. This brings about an extra layer of sadness because even though a part of this person is still with the poet, it is a part that is non sentient and cannot interact with him. This haiku might reflect the Japanese aesthetic of mono no aware (物の哀れ), which is about the pathos and transience of things, and that sometimes brings about beauty in melancholy.

— Nicholas Klacsanzky (USA)

There are certain memories in life that we want to forget but cannot as they leave deep imprints on our minds and hearts. But still, time is considered as the best healer. So, the memories of loved ones remain as mere dust.

Specks of dust on photos, metaphorical flashbacks, or vivid memories are fading away or not getting the importance they deserve. This may be due to a change in priorities or other perspectives of life or ageing when someone cannot remember certain things of the past or ignore them.

In this haiku, ‘last fragments’ show the loosening of memories that the narrator once held dear. These fragments are dust, which also shows the annihilation of memories.
Ultimately, this haiku speaks about the transformation of a relationship from a tangible personal touch to the intangible thoughts and memories that later fizzle out in the dust of time.

— Hifsa Ashraf (Pakistan)

an attic window sill
a wasp curls
into its own dust

— Alan Summers (England)
Haiku of Merit: Ginko & Kukai event with Professor Hoshino Tsunehiko (1997)
Pub. Yomiuri Shimbun Go-Shichi-Go On-Line Language Lab (Japan, 2005)

An attic window sill is a place where many creatures yearn for their dreams and rest for a moment or two and then fly away. An attic window may be a reflection of memories where a person finds themselves close to their inner self and feel protected.

The analogy of a wasp who curls into its dust may indicate the protection that we acquire after time. When we relate this to human life, our experiences reshape our potential and abilities where we can transcend and transform with time. The connection between ‘attic’ and ‘dust’ shows the stages of maturity that we gain phase by phase and eventually gain the maturity level where the outcomes of those experiences become our strength and protect us from an unseen future. ‘Dust’ may also reflect the annihilation where a person bends down due to either ageing or the brunt of the past that they bury under the dust of time or death.

The articles ‘an’ and ‘a’ project the individual experiences of a person that are more subtle but profound. The letter ‘w’, I feel, gives a sense of the ups and downs in life that reshape our intellect and bring ultimate maturity until death.

— Hifsa Ashraf (Pakistan)

To me, the act of the wasp curling into its own dust is representative of an attic itself: self-contained, enclosed, and a place of possible loneliness. The wasp being at the windowsill adds more to the pathos of this haiku, as it indicates that the wasp wished to leave the stuffy attic for its free life outside. It brings into question humanity’s relationship with nature and makes us think about how we can live in more synchronicity with the natural world.

— Nicholas Klacsanzky (USA)

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— “Dust Haze” by Steffie Wallace