Laughing Waters’ Thanks

life ended 
thanks for playing
god

© Laughing Waters (Italy)

This senryu accomplishes a contrast of two opposing moods in the same piece. That is difficult even for the most experienced writers.

1. Our mortality and briefness in this world conveys a serious finality. We are finite and god/God is there with the poet. Perhaps god is just “looking” on as the scene unfolds.

2. Then, there is humor in that it is also god/God giving the poet a memo on her life and referring to it as a role (playing) or even a game–especially a game.

This removes the finality a little since “god” might have another role/game up “his/her” sleeve. We don’t really know and that unknown aspect adds poignancy to the “memo.” It leaves the reader wondering what is meant, possibly after the memo has been received.

This one actually gets away with personifying “god,” if it is, indeed, a memo.

In haiku, we avoid personification of the natural world so it can remain part of the natural world. Clouds, for example, wouldn’t be “crying” but they could sure be used in an image set against another image of a person weeping, crying, lamenting, etc.

– Edwin Lomere (USA)

Mark Meyer’s Answers

This is definitely a Zen-tinged haiku or senryu (I would place it in the senryu box). With its humor, it shows the frustration of learning and of unlearning.

have I learned nothing?
only conflicting answers
sensei laughing

©  Mark Meyer (USA)

“Have I learned nothing?” is a common feeling someone gets when they are learning something new–and in the case of Zen, it could be for “advanced” learners as well. It could have two meanings: learning what nothing is, and learning nothing at all. The question is itself a conundrum. In Zen, feeling emptiness within–having a lack of ego and conditioning–is a “goal” to achieve. Learning something is not quite the goal of Zen: usually, it is about unlearning what we have learned.

The second line makes more sense in the context of previously mentioned statements. Answers in Zen are usually malleable and practitioners of its art try not to stick to ideas.

We don’t know the exact reason the sensei (teacher) laughs. It may be in the humor of asking this question in the first place, the teacher seeing the contorted face of the student, the teacher recognizes the student is making a joke about his learning, or feeling joy from knowing that he does not need to know answers, or all of the above.

In the poem, you can feel the frustration and comedy in the moment. It is simply written, but gets straight to the point. The “l” sound runs through it with “learned” “only” “conflicting” “laughing.” To me, the “l’ sound gives it a lilting feeling, which makes it more whimsical.

The simplicity of this piece has a lot to it actually: philosophy, anti-philosophy, and the endearing relationship between a student and a teacher.

– Nicholas Klacsanzky (Ukraine)

Dave Read’s Moose

Banff Trail
he shoots a moose
with his iPhone

failed haiku v.1 i.1

© Dave Read (Canada)

“Banff Trail” refers to a trail in Banff National Park–the oldest national park in Canada. Then we get this rather intense image of a moose being shot. But wait… when the third line comes, we realize the moose is only being shot by an iPhone camera. But this surprise is more than just wit.

Dave, I believe, is contrasting the old and new–a prominent theme in haiku/senryu. Banff National Park, as I said, is the oldest national park in Canada, and this is being contrasted with the freshness of an iPhone. And in this new generation, we shoot moose with our iPhone cameras rather than our guns.

I think this poem is a remembrance, however witty it seems on the surface, of how our old generation hunted such beautiful and epic creatures without remorse. Though we may chuckle at the poem, beneath its humor is a long history of making the moose almost extinct.

The “o” sound is prominent, with “shoots” “moose” and iPhone.” It gives a sense of distance and maybe the range of shooting either a camera or gun.

Though simple and humorous, Dave has given us a reminder of our past and how we have progressed as a race.

– Nicholas Klacsanzky (Ukraine)