Tag: Anthony Lusardi

Haiku by Anthony Lusardi, Douglas J. Lanzo, and Minh-Triêt Pham 

On By Nicholas KlacsanzkyIn Haiku4 Comments

soft orange leaves—
how weightless she feels
in my arms

— Anthony Lusardi (USA)
Dedicated to Remi June
Presence, issue #79, July 2024

Commentary from Hifsa Ashraf:

The open line allows me to pause for a while as it reflects a unique yet subtle side of autumn. Soft orange leaves make me think of not only the texture of leaves but also the time as well which raises some questions i.e. are the leaves soft because they are wet either due to dewdrops or raindrops? Are they on the ground or half-buried? Are they still hanging from the tree or stuck in the branches? What orange colour is it? The em dash makes the leaves significant in this poem but there is still a mystery about the details. 

The second line is a shift from nature to personal sentiments, where the poet creates a unique bond between the transformation of nature and personal thoughts and feelings. ‘How weightless she feels’ could reflect weakness, withdrawal, hopelessness, prolonged illness, near-death experiences, or a lack of interest. It seems the person is not feeling well and is ready to depart like soft orange leaves that are open to be annihilated or buried. The word ‘feels’ perhaps alludes to the poet not being sure about their feelings or the real state of mind of the person. The poet is sharing emotions or anticipating the future of this relationship that may be guessed from nature where orange leaves are destined to die. It is sheer hopelessness and readiness to accept the bitter reality of detachment and departure of a loved one. 

The last line shows the significance of the poet’s association with the person being mentioned where he tries to be protective and supportive, providing comfort to the person at this stage. 

This haiku is a beautiful example of a strong and subtle bond between nature and humanity. I liked the way the poet used a specific colour of leaf to project his thoughts and feelings and also left room for others to relate their life experiences with such examples from nature. 

call to prayers
the vastness
of domed desert

— Douglas J. Lanzo (USA)

Commentary from Jacob D. Salzer:

An interesting juxtaposition between sound and silence, and between the limited body & mind and the vast desert. This haiku could perhaps have a kind of haunting quality. How many of our prayers are answered? Perhaps the deep silence of meditation is the highest form of prayer. From one editor’s view, my only suggestion would be to consider adding “a” before “domed.” An interesting haiku that leads us into contemplation and a deeper silence.

frosty dawn —
the metallic taste
of her lipstick

— Minh-Triêt Pham (France)

Commentary from Nicholas Klacsanzky:

The first line sets the kigo in either winter or late autumn. Frost commonly looks lovely at dawn, with the sun slightly touching it and making it glitter in soft light. Yet, it can also be a reminder of a harsh reality.

This dual tone in the first line is juxtaposed with the irony of lipstick having a metallic taste. Though the last two lines are romantically inclined, there is also a touch of alarm. A lipstick with a metallic taste could indicate the presence of metal-based pigments that might not be healthy. The metallic taste could also be a sign of myriad medical issues, such as diabetes, liver issues, cancer, and more. So, the juxtaposition could be saying that a frosty dawn could be the same or similar to kissing your partner and having a metallic taste to something usually regarded as romantic. All this makes for an intriguing toriawase.

Looking at the more technical side of this haiku, the poet uses a dash as an approximation of a kireji. For me, it solidifies the seriousness and starkness of the moment. The euphony of this haiku is also important, in my opinion, with the letter “t” making a crackling sound and the letter “l” projecting strength. The haiku is also written in a rhythm corresponding to traditional Japanese standards with its short/long/short structure. Finally, the simplicity of language and brevity displayed matches the tradition of the genre.

Overall, I enjoy how the poet takes two “ordinary” events and compares them to create a “third part” of the haiku, where our imagination conjures myriad meanings that are personal yet connected to nature.

Royalty-free art without artist name



Haiku by Michael Shoemaker, Anthony Lusardi, and Richard L. Matta

On By Nicholas KlacsanzkyIn Haiku, SenryuLeave a comment

morning campfire smoke
curls and rises above pines
meadowlark’s sing-song

— Michael Shoemaker (USA)
Under the Bashō, June 24, 2024

Commentary from Hifsa Ashraf:

The first line of this 5/7/5 haiku tells us the time and space where one can directly imagine the whole scene before going into the details. A morning campfire can be used for warming the ambience, a get-together, cooking, etc. In any case, a campfire usually is a sign of lively activities. Adding smoke makes this haiku a bit more profound and mystical. Is it just smoke and no fire? Does it happen before or after the fire? 

The second line is more focused on the details of the smoke, curling and rising above the pines. This leaves our imagination to run wild and to think of the shape, structure, intensity, and smell of smoke. The second line could be about how smoke overshadows nature. It may be a sign of air pollution adding toxicity to the pines, which is a symbol of purity.

The meadowlark’s sing-song could be a sign of alertness depending on the pitch. For me, it may be more like a complaint or a reaction to smoke/pollution—probably in the form of a sad melody we commonly ignore. The other aspect to consider is how nature responds to our acts of toxicity with sweet melodies. The meadowlark’s song demonstrates resistance and determination in the form of music and voice.

This haiku, in its simplicity, describes a story of our actions to spread pollution and toxicants and nature’s response to it.

gloaming . . .
a spider clings to                
her egg sac

— Anthony Lusardi (USA)
tsuri-doro, issue #19, Jan/Feb 2024

Commentary from Jacob D. Salzer: 

“Gloaming” means twilight or dusk, but it can also mean sullenness and melancholy. I appreciate how this haiku shows a mother’s love and protection with the verb “clings” and the egg sac. The mother spider is protecting her eggs from something or perhaps many things. We don’t know what dangers might be present for the spider and her eggs, which opens the door to our imagination. Dusk or twilight effectively sets the mood and atmosphere of the poem, as light fades into darkness. With that in mind, this haiku might have a somewhat haunting atmosphere as what is visible becomes invisible, yet there is still enough light for the poet to capture this moment. As the night deepens, we enter the Great Mystery. In short, this is an effective haiku that gives us a glimpse of a mother’s love for her soon-to-be children, which can apply to other creatures, insects, and mammals as well.

pinewood derby
still missing the weight 
of dad’s touch

— Richard L. Matta (USA)
1st Place Senryu, Kaji Aso Studio, 35th International Haiku Contest 2024

Commentary from Nicholas Klacsanzky:

This senryu tapped into my memories, as I participated in pinewood derbies when I was a young lad with my father. More than that, this senryu uses the word “weight” effectively to have a double meaning of the physical weight of the cars and the emotional/spiritual weight of a father’s presence. “Missing” could imply that the poet’s father has either passed away or is out of contact—leaving that justly up to the reader to interpret.

I also enjoyed the sound in this senryu, with the letters “o” and “w” prominently featured. The instances of “o” contribute to the senryu being slowed down and savored, whereas “w” manifests an airy feeling to the poem. In my opinion, both of these attributes complement the context in which the senryu is written. Lastly, the senryu is efficiently written with only nine words, simple language, and excellent pacing in the line breaks. It is clear why this senryu won an award: it not only resonates with readers effortlessly but also demonstrates a keen understanding of the technical aspects of senryu.

Illustration by Louis Agassiz Fuertes of an Eastern Meadowlark (Sturnella magna), from The Burgess Bird Book for Children (1919)

Poems by Kelly Sargent, Marc Brimble, and Anthony Lusardi

On By Nicholas KlacsanzkyIn Haiku, Tanka3 Comments

fallen acorn renewing our vows

— Kelly Sargent (USA) 
Frogpond, issue 47:1, winter 2024

Commentary from Nicholas Klacsanzky:

The way the word “renewing” works as a pivot to create different readings is spectacular. I think the monoku could be read in at least three ways: “fallen/acorn renewing our vows”; “fallen acorn/renewing our vows”; “fallen acorn renewing/our vows.”

The contrast between “fallen” and “renewing” creates a powerful link. Acorns are also often used as symbols of rebirth, and the monoku could be personifying it. In addition, I enjoy how the kind of vows that are being expressed is left up to the reader.

Finally, the train of “n,” “o,” and “w” sounds makes this haiku sonically pleasant. The poem begins with harder sounds and ends with softer tones. With only five words, the poem has much euphony and meaning.

waiting for confession
I notice
The Virgin’s thigh

— Marc Brimble (Spain)

Commentary from Hifsa Ashraf:

The opening line of this haiku is personal and well thought out. It seems the person is going through the process of reflecting on what went wrong in their life. The mistakes bother the person but at the same time, there is no sort of hesitation, conflict, or confusion in obtaining a confession. The question is: “Is it a big confession?” “Is it someone’s first confession?” “Is it a self-motivated confession?” “Is it a forced confession?” In any case, the one who will confess is taking time to think about it.

In the second part of the poem, there is a surprising element of moving from spiritual to worldly desires. It may imply that the person will confess something about yearnings or an intimate relationship. Nonetheless, their thought process is oscillating between what is seen and what is not, what is more significant and what is less, what is right and what is wrong. It seems the person is being distracted from a symbolic meaning of life by worldly desires and is not yet ready for a deeply felt confession. 

within its web
within a hollow stump
a grass spider                      
feels the earth
and all its vibrations

— Anthony Lusardi (USA)
Ribbons, Spring/Summer issue, 2022

Commentary from Jacob D. Salzer: 

The clear imagery and the perspective from the spider’s point of view make this a strong tanka. The web could be seen as a symbol for the web of life. I appreciate how this tanka reminds us of the interconnectedness of life and the impact we have on Earth and her creatures. The last line also opens up many possibilities as we imagine the different vibrations. When I read this tanka, I feel compassion for the spider. There could also be metaphorical interpretations in the first two lines. Ultimately, I think this tanka reminds us to be more mindful of our actions. I believe this is an important, ecologically-based tanka that inspires compassion.

Nefflier a gros Fruit. Original from the Minneapolis Institute of Art. Dated: 19th century ; Artist: Michel Bouquet ; Nationality: French ; Artist Life: 1807-1890.