Tag: poetry

Adjei Agyei-Baah’s Clap

On By Nicholas KlacsanzkyIn Haiku3 Comments

folding and unfolding
the unheard clap
of the butterfly

Brass Bell, October 2015

© Adjei Agyei-Baah (Ghana)

This points directly to the notion that haiku is a poetry of insight. The things we don’t realize are around us are brought to the surface.

With the start of the haiku, it seems we are almost going in slow motion, witnessing the butterfly as a detached observer. And in those moments of detachment, often we can experience phenomena that are seemingly hidden.

With the word “unheard,” we comprehend that the author did not actually hear the clap of the butterfly’s wings, but understood in his observation that he could not hear it. It is a metaphor for all things we don’t hear, and in a wider view, what we don’t experience.

We believe our reality to be as it is, though we cannot experience everything that is happening. Then what is truly objective? What would complete objective reality be like? Is there such a thing?

As haiku writers, we try to be objective as possible with what senses we have. However, in this haiku, I believe the author is directing our attention to the fact to just how limited we are in our ability to experience life and to understand it completely.

Getting away from philosophy for a moment, I enjoy how the lines flow. The last line comes as a eureka moment in the pacing itself, and the lines in general make the reader read slowly. This helps us to really take in the moment.

The sound works well to give a lilting feeling to it with the letter “l” in “folding,” “unfolding,” “clap,” and “butterfly.”

Now back to the act itself: the clap. What does the clap indicate? The author does not say, which is a classic haiku technique. If you over-explain in haiku, you usually are doing a disservice to your readers. They should have space to figure out and feel things for themselves.

The clap could be applause, either congratulatory or mocking. The clap could be an alert to danger. The clap could also refer to the famous Zen riddle: “What is the sound of one hand clapping?” Also in Zen, clapping is used to wake students up to the awareness of the moment. The butterfly could be a teacher of ours, and we don’t even know it.

But the clap could simply be. The clap could be just a clap. And with it being unheard, the author may have heard the unheard clap in his mind, and got immersed in that sound. By the tone of the haiku, this seems quite plausible.

Whatever we think about the clap, its unheard sound is heard in the minds of each reader of this haiku.

– Nicholas Klacsanzky (Ukraine)

 

Mark Meyer’s Pond

On By Nicholas KlacsanzkyIn HaikuLeave a comment

evening stillness—
bells of Kōfuku-ji
rippling the pond

© Mark Meyer (USA)

This haiku definitely has a classical feel to it: temple bells, a pond, and stillness. Yet, Meyer made something new with classical elements in mind.

Knowing what “Kofuku-ji” is intrinsic to feeling what the haiku is about. Kofuku-ji used to be the family temple of the Fujiwara, the most powerful family clan during much of the Nara and Heian periods. The temple was established in Nara at the same time as the capital in 710. At the height of Fujiwara power, the temple consisted of over 150 buildings.

In addition, Meyer noted that the complex has a lot of legends associated with it. This information gives us a sense that there might be something mystical in the haiku. How nature and human culture interact is often remarkable, and I believe this haiku is showing us a window into this phenomenon.

The pond is still. The bell rings from the ancient temple and the vibrations from its sound reverberates on the water, creating ripples. The ancient temple may not be as it used to be, but it is still creating the same effect on the waters around it. This brings about the haiku aesthetic of continuance despite a death, or against all odds.

Also, there is something supernatural in nature itself that allows us to draw inspiration from it. By noticing the ripples on the pond from the bells, I get a sense of the supernatural, especially with the temple being associated with many legends.

I like how the dash is used to illustrate just how silent the moment was. I also enjoy the “l” sound with “stillness,” “bells,” and “rippling.” The circular sound of “l” brings the ripples to mind.

An elegant haiku that brings a sense of peace and remembrance.

– Nicholas Klacsanzky (Ukraine)

 

Michael Dylan Welch’s Scattered Petals

On By Nicholas KlacsanzkyIn Haiku1 Comment

scattered petals . . .
the thud of my books
in the book drop

© Michael Dylan Welch (USA)

The first line most likely refers to late spring, when the petals on blossoms regularly fly off, though some petals scatter in early spring as well. Instead of “scattering” we have “scattered,” which denotes that we are seeing the petals after they have already spun through the wind and landed in a formation. The kireji or “cutting word” as the ellipsis works well to show the continuous motion of the petals. Though Welch does not specify which petals, I imagine them to be pink.

Then we have an abrupt action: the thud of books. It is important to note the use of “my.” It could mean the books the author wrote himself or simply the books he is returning to a library. The use of “my ” gives the books more weight, no pun intended.

In the third line, we get to know that the thud of books is coming from a book drop, which are located at libraries.

Though books and petals have much different physical weights and the actions described in both parts seem to be different, they have a similarity: transience and a circular nature. Through seasons, petals come and go, illustrated nicely by the ellipsis. But even if they appear to be transient, they always come back each year. On the other hand, when we get out books from the library, we eventually return them, and then someone else will take them out. Though the author’s reading of the books was temporary, there is an endless cycle of reading them from the countless readers at the library.

Another thing to get from the juxtaposition is how the two actions connect. Did the dropping off of the books, and its thud, cause the petals to scatter, or vice versa? Kind of like a trick of the mind, I find myself hearing the thud of the books as I imagine the petals scattering, possibly around the library courtyard, or parking lot. I also see how the definite thud of the books correlate to the now still petals on the ground. Though cause and effect is usually avoided in haiku between the two parts, it is not a “sin” to imply it.

The sound of the haiku works well. The “s” sound in “scattered,” “petals,” and “books” make a rustling sound akin to scattering petals. The “o” sound in “books” and “book drop” illustrate the dropping motion and maybe the sensation we feel when dropping books off.

The use of two “the” seems right, as both the sound of the books dropping and the book drop itself need to be important. If it was “a book drop” I think we would feel the impact less.

The mood the haiku is somber and introspective. For me, it instantly puts me in a state of looking for higher meaning in what I perceive in everyday life. Many haiku poets would agree that it is one their goals for readers when writing haiku: to allow people to see greater significance behind mundane existence and to see the connection between the myriad things we perceive.

If you want to learn more about Michael Dylan Welch and read his fantastic essays on haiku and related subjects, visit http://www.graceguts.com/

– Nicholas Klacsanzky (Ukraine)