Jacob Salzer’s Hook

forgetting my name
the hook disappears
beneath the water

 
A Hundred Gourds 9/20/15
 
© Jacob Salzer (USA)
 
This haiku is about being immersed in something so completely, that the mind becomes quiet. In this haiku, it was an experience I had fishing with a family friend and my sister. As I fished with him and my sister, my own name disappeared, along with the hook beneath the water.
 
Sometimes, it seems our analytical minds get in the way of experiencing life itself. Analysis and describing things has its place, but it seems we can also get paralysis by analysis. This haiku is about letting go of describing life sometimes, and allowing ourselves to simply be and to experience something completely, without any words, judgments, or concepts. 
 
It seems we are mentally conditioned to continuously think and act in certain ways. But is our true identity limited to a transient mental concept? Is our own name as permanent as it seems? Who are we without our names? To experience the continuous now without thought (even for a moment) allows us to experience the beauty of being, and thereby allows us to dis-identify with all thoughts. 
 
Perhaps this is why some people enjoy extreme sports like rock climbing; the activity is so intense that it requires your complete attention. You can’t be thinking about other things, otherwise, one wrong move could result in serious injury or even death. 
 
Fortunately, we don’t have to be rock climbers to quiet the mind. Any activity, when done fully, is a key to unlock moments of silence, and the great doorways of the unknown.
 
– Jacob Salzer (USA)

Irene Riz’s Flood

blooming hibiscus
the morning after the flood
excuse accepted

© Irene Riz (Russia)

It is not common to write in 5-7-5 syllables in modern English haiku, as we have gone to the short line-longer line-short line format that lends more to the English language. However, this haiku works great as a 5-7-5 syllable haiku.

(If you want to read more about why we don’t write in 5-7-5 syllables in English haiku often, please read this essay by Michael Dylan Welch: http://www.graceguts.com/essays/go-shichi-go-how-japanese-and-english-syllables-differ)

We start with a classical topic: a flower. A blooming hibiscus is especially beautiful. It has rich colors, a striking anther, and elegant overlapping petals.

Then, with line two, we go onto something striking: a tragedy. Making turns like this in haiku is normal if you want to surprise and engage readers.

In the third line, we have a consequence of the flood: through the circumstances, the main person in focus accepts someone’s excuse in light of the danger and maybe a change of mind.

I like how the flood relates to the blossoming hibiscus. You can say that hibiscuses “flood” our eyes with color and beauty, and through them, we can become more soft-hearted, and maybe change our minds about someone’s flaws or our own.

The sound of “o” courses through the first two lines with “blooming,” “morning,” and “flood.” I think this sound creates the effect of the flood water continuing and slows us down as readers to take in the weight of the situation.

At the heart of haiku is compassion, I believe, and seeing each living thing as a blessing in disguise. This haiku reveals the interweaving of nature and humanity, where nature makes us see the heart of each other, past our mistakes. We might say that in the end, forgiveness can save us from inhumanity.

– Nicholas Klacsanzky (Ukraine)

Rika Inami’s End

when the end
comes upon me ―
sirens blowing
through the darkness
rushes to the fire
© Rika Inami (Japan)
IMG_7618

This self-eulogy is evocative in its simplicity and pacing. There is nothing difficult to understand in this tanka, but the subtle meaning behind it might be.

The end of the tanka is not about her, but about fire, an all-consuming element. I think Rika is expressing that in the end, she will become one with her surroundings, or maybe  she or her life was an illusion all along.

It also seems the author is saying that when her end comes, there will be no use in trying to pity her or get involved in feelings. But rather, the author could be pointing to the problem that made her die in the first place. “Fire” has a lot of symbolism attached to it, such as passion, anger, inspiration, and so on.

With the em dash in the second line, we feel more of her end, as she gives us time to take it in. The em dash might seem unnatural, but for poetry, it totally makes sense to have there. In tanka, we sometimes use punctuation to show two parts more clearly. So, Rika is also demarcating the parts in the tanka.

The photo connects indirectly to the tanka wonderfully. The red of the maple leaves shows the fire and the latern is similar to a siren light.

The most prominent sound to me in this tanka is the “o” sound in “comes,” “upon,” “blowing,” “through” and “to.” It gives an effect of a suspension of time and makes us read the poem slower.

A humble poem about one’s death, written in a simple style. But that is just the surface. I think this tanka brings up a lot of symbolism and thoughts about the reality/illusion of life, where we go when we die, and what we are meant for in the end.

– Nicholas Klacsanzky (Ukraine)