Tag: Tuyet Van Do

Haiku by Lucas Weissenborn, Michael Shoemaker, and Tuyet Van Do

On By Nicholas KlacsanzkyIn HaikuLeave a comment

still playing
the anti-war song
air raid alert

— Lucas Weissenborn (Norway)
published in Tsuri-dōrō, issue #31, January, 2026

Commentary by Hifsa Ashraf:

The opening line is written in a continuous form, suggesting that something is still ongoing. Adding the word “still” before “playing” makes it more expressive in several ways, as it may convey feelings of sadness, hope, emptiness, or persistence.

The reference to an anti-war song in the second line makes the scene more specific, while also raising questions. Is this song personal to the speaker? Is it being played by the person themselves or someone from their past or family? Does the song trigger memories, or does it soothe them? The phrase anti-war suggests themes of peace and reflection, possibly indicating a reminder to oneself or to the world about positivity and resistance to conflict.

The setting in which the song is being played is also significant. Is it in a vehicle, a shop, a home, ruins, or a public space? Each possibility changes the emotional context of the haiku.

The air raid alert, typically represented by a siren, is associated with fear, urgency, and distress. The contrast between the anti-war song and the air raid alert creates striking tension, making the haiku open to multiple interpretations. Is the anti-war song playing during the air raid alert, or is it being used to counteract its psychological impact?

The absence of punctuation further enhances the sense of silence, fear, and uncertainty underlying the poem.

quaking aspens
spinning leaves
into daydreams

— Michael Shoemaker (USA)
published in the Autumn Moon Haiku Journal, May 10, 2025

Commentary by Jacob D. Salzer:

I appreciate the message in this haiku that even in autumn, when some things and people are aging and passing away, there is room to daydream. The word “quaking” is unique and means shivering or trembling but also defines the unique tree beings with the same name: quaking aspens.

According to The National Wildlife Federation, “Quaking aspens, also called trembling aspens, are named for their leaves. Flat leaves attach to branches with lengthy stalks called petioles, which quake or tremble in light breezes. Quaking aspens regularly grow in dense, pure stands, creating a stunning golden vista when their leaves change color in the fall. The white bark is one identifying characteristic of this tree, but the bark is special for more than just its unique appearance. The bark layer of quaking aspens carries out photosynthesis, a task usually reserved for tree leaves. In winter, when other deciduous trees are mostly dormant, quaking aspens are able to keep producing sugar for energy. Deer, moose, and elk seek shade from aspen groves in summer. These same animals consume bark, leaves, buds, and twigs of quaking aspens throughout the year. Ruffed grouse are especially dependent on quaking aspens for food and nesting habitat. People use quaking aspens for fuel and to make paper, particle board, furniture, and hamster bedding. In terms of height, quaking aspens are relatively small. They are usually less than 50 feet (15 meters) tall.”

Quaking aspens are native to North America and have heart-shaped leaves.

The sonic effect of “quaking,” “spinning,” and the “s” sounds (and the wind through the trees) throughout gives this haiku a dreamlike, lullaby effect.  In a culture that praises a fast-paced life, speed, productivity, efficiency, and a “more is better” mindset and attitude, this haiku offers another mode of being, to slow down and be one with Nature. Quaking aspens and their beauty can quiet the mind and give us a quiet space to dream and to daydream. A beautiful haiku.

tuning my guitar
outside the study
yellow leaves shivering

— Tuyet Van Do (Australia)
published in Lothlorien Poetry Journal, December 17, 2025

Commentary by Nicholas Klacsanzky:

Starting with the kigo, or seasonal reference, we notice that it is autumn due to the yellow leaves. The action of shivering allows us to conclude that it is the colder part of autumn, heading towards the beginning of winter. This connects well with the word “tuning,” as nature and humans alike have to adjust to the changing of seasons.

Also, when someone tunes a guitar, they are shifting strings, which can be perceived as shivering. So, in this haiku, the leaves trembling can be seen as a direct correspondence of the poet tuning her guitar. It is a comparison I have not seen in other haiku before yet highly relatable.

In the second line, the haiku is placed within a study, or a place to focus on work or projects. From the comfort of the study, the poet sees the helpless leaves “shivering” in the cold weather. The diction personifies the leaves, allowing readers to sympathize with them during this harsh time of year. For many haiku masters, old and new, the focus of the art form is to create empathy and connection between humanity and nature. This haiku leans into that facet.

The pacing of the lines is interesting. The first two lines are of equal length, while the third is long. Most commonly, haiku are written in a short/long/short format in English. The prolonged third line, in a way, emphasizes the leaves’ suffering. The unusual focus on “u” sounds in the first two lines could be a representation of what tuning sounds like. The “l” sounds in the third line make it light for a bit, but the letter “v” in “shivering” creates heaviness.

Finally, the lack of punctuation creates a chance for a pivot line. The haiku can be read two ways: tuning my guitar/ outside the study, yellow leaves shivering” or “tuning my guitar outside of the study/ yellow leaves shivering.” The second reading could mean the poet is outside tuning her guitar, and the leaves could be “shivering” to the music instead of the cold. An enjoyable haiku that provides readers with empathy and a sense of oneness with the natural world.

Photograph by Matt Lavin, Creative Commons





Haiku by Samo Kreutz, Tuyet Van Do, and Bonnie J Scherer

On By Nicholas KlacsanzkyIn Haiku, Senryu3 Comments

meditation music …
a kitten’s purr slips
into incense

— Samo Kreutz (Slovenia)
THF Haiku Dialogue, November 2025

Commentary from Hifsa Ashraf:

This haiku resonates deeply with me, especially since my recent collaborative book, Beyond Emptiness, explores themes of mysticism and spiritual transformation.

The opening line, “meditation music,” immediately evokes a serene, introspective space. For me, it echoes the tones of Sufi music or soft instrumental melodies—sounds that captivate the senses and guide the soul toward mindfulness. Such music plays a vital role in calming the nerves and synchronizing one’s rhythm with the stillness within.

The second line, “a kitten’s purr,” introduces a gentle, intimate sound—subtle yet profound. I interpret the kitten’s presence as symbolic of a beginner in meditation: quiet, curious, and softly aligned with the spiritual energy. Purring suggests delight, warmth, and safety—a sensory harmony that seamlessly blends with the meditative ambiance. It reminds us that the healing power of sound affects not just humans but all sentient beings.

The poet concludes it beautifully with “slips into incense,” which is both poetic and mystical. There’s a beautiful synesthetic quality here, a merging of sound, scent, and motion. The phrase “slips into” suggests a gentle transformation, a shift from the tangible into the ethereal. It reflects that moment in meditation when physical sensations dissolve, and one is immersed in the intangible. The incense symbolizes this spiritual diffusion where worldly concerns fade, and one melts into a deeper, more satisfying stillness.

Altogether, the haiku captures a sacred moment where the boundaries between body, mind, and spirit gently blur.

queueing for coffee
an elderly man
counting his change

— Tuyet Van Do (Australia)
Kokako 43, 2025

Commentary from Jacob D. Salzer: 

This is an important haiku for a variety of reasons. 

Firstly, this haiku shows a fast-paced lifestyle that coffee is often associated with, and the sheer demand for coffee. While there is non-caffeinated coffee available, most coffee has caffeine, which is known as an addictive drug. Not all people who drink coffee are addicted, but many people are. This could transfer to the interpretation that some people seem to be addicted to a fast-paced lifestyle, thinking that faster is always better. However, some people also seem to move faster as a survival mechanism due to low-wage jobs and rising costs of living. By moving faster and sometimes working multiple jobs, there is an opportunity to make more money. 

While drinking coffee in moderation has health benefits, the added sugar to specialty coffee beverages, such as lattes, can have serious health consequences when consumed regularly over time, and can lead to diabetes mellitus, inflammation, and cardiovascular diseases, which can be fatal. According to the World Health Organization, in 2021, ischemic heart disease was the #1 cause of death worldwide, and diabetes mellitus was the 8th leading cause of death (source: https://www.who.int/news-room/fact-sheets/detail/the-top-10-causes-of-death). There are also often negative health consequences that come with a fast-paced lifestyle, including increased stress, and not activating our parasympathetic nervous system enough to rest, digest, and relax.

The sheer demand for coffee is marked by the “queueing for coffee” in this haiku, which means there’s a long line of people waiting. Ironically, depending on the size of the business and the number of workers, people may have to wait for quite some time to buy their coffee. The fast-paced lifestyle is starkly contrasted with the elderly man, who is slowly counting his change and has to move at a much slower pace due to his age. This elderly man could be addicted to coffee, but he is not moving as fast as he used to. Alternatively, he could not be addicted to coffee at all. He may also be living in poverty due to counting his change. It seems people are waiting in line longer, partly because he is counting his change. Unfortunately, he may not have enough money to buy the coffee he ordered. I feel compassion for this elderly man and appreciate that he’s showing a slower pace of life. Also, the word “change” can refer to how the elderly man has transformed over his lifetime. The double entendre in haiku is a common device that is used to great effect.

According to Coffee Industry: Size, Growth, and Economic Impact Analysis, “The coffee industry is one of the largest and most influential sectors in the world, with an economic impact that extends far beyond just a daily beverage. As of 2025, the global coffee market accounted for $256.29 billion, and will register a CAGR of 4.52% from 2025 to 2034. This consistent growth reflects coffee’s enduring popularity, driven by changing consumer preferences, increasing disposable incomes, and the expanding coffee culture in emerging markets. According to a recent study, U.S. coffee consumption has grown by 5% since 2015, illustrating the increasing demand for this beloved beverage. This includes the shift toward premium and specialty coffee, which is boosting the value of global coffee beans, expected to reach $174.25 billion by 2030. Despite these hurdles, the coffee industry remains a crucial economic force, providing over 2.2 million jobs and generating more than $100 billion annually in wages across the U.S.”

According to Coffee’s Economic Impact:

“Two-thirds of American adults drink coffee each day and more than 70% of American adults drink coffee each week.”

Highlights of coffee’s economic impact in the United States include:

  • The total economic impact of the coffee industry in the United States in 2022 was $343.2 billion, up 52.4% since 2015.
  • The coffee industry is responsible for more than 2.2 million U.S. jobs and generates more than $100 billion in wages per year.
  • Coffee can only be grown in tropical climates. It cannot be grown in most of the United States and is sourced from countries with tropical climates. Every $1 in coffee imported to the United States ends up creating an estimated $43 in value here at home. Learn more about coffee and trade.
  • Consumers spend more than $300 million on coffee products every day—nearly $110 billion per year.

For more information on coffee, including the roots of coffee in Ethiopia, fair-trade, global coffee markets, and the consequences of colonization and enslavement associated with growing coffee in certain countries, I recommend this interview with Phyllis Johnson, published in The Sun Magazine: https://www.thesunmagazine.org/articles/601-crop-to-cup

In short, this is an important haiku that sheds light on coffee, the consequences of a fast-paced lifestyle, and also inspires compassion as we age. 

a story
cut short
earthworm

— Bonnie J Scherer (USA)
Modern Haiku 56.3

Commentary from Nicholas Klacsanzky:

I believe this poem hovers between being a haiku or senryu—not that it matters too much. Ultimately, what is important is that it expresses violence and empathy via brevity, with its emotionality implied rather than stated.

Opening with “a story” is unique. As an editor, I don’t think I’ve ever seen that as a first line in a haiku/senryu. The phrase invites expectation and makes the reader curious about what is going to happen next in the poem.

“cut short” functions as both a poetic turn and a literal act. It interrupts the promise of “story” and physically refers to severing something. So, you got a balance between abstraction and the mundane.

With the mention of “earthworm,” we get the conclusion and also the opening up of the story. It grounds the poem in reality. This toriawase—story versus earthworm—creates resonance between human meaning-making and a small, often-overlooked being. The poet doesn’t dive into sentimentality; the earthworm is not anthropomorphized, yet the simplicity of the verse allows us to recognize that even the humblest organism contains a “story.” The violence is understated, yet it is heavy through sparseness.

I think the poem plays with the idea of impermanence and permanence. It is commonly known that if you cut off the body of an earthworm and the head remains, many times earthworms can grow their tails back and be whole once again. In this sense, the poet may be saying that even if a story is cut short, there is a strong chance that the narrative will continue with time.

Even though the poem is very short (five words in all), the sense of sound is strong. The elongated “o” sounds make the reading slower and more meditative. The “r” sounds perhaps bring extra weight.

I am a sucker for haiku and senryu that deal with the small things and beings around us, and this poem called out to me for that reason. The hidden meanings in the poem also made me more invested in it and allowed my mind to wander in introspection. A fine, sparse ku that does a lot with only five words.

Painting by Julius Adam (1852 – 1913), “Cat with her Kittens”

Haiku and senryu by Srini, Danny Blackwell, and Tuyet Van Do

On By Nicholas KlacsanzkyIn Haiku1 Comment

starlit pond…
a paper boat floats
for light years

— Srini (India)
Tinywords, 25:2, October 3, 2025

Commentary from Hifsa Ashraf:

This haiku transports us into a quiet, enclosed space—perhaps a park, a backyard, or a secluded garden. The opening image is enchanting and dreamy: a starlit pond blurs the line between sky and earth, mirroring the cosmos in its still waters. The ellipsis at the end of the first line invites a pause, allowing the reader to absorb the magic of the moment. I can almost see a tapestry of stars delicately reflected on the pond’s surface.

The second line introduces a subtle shift: a paper boat floats on the water. It acts as both an interruption and an anchor—drawing us back from reverie into something tangible and innocent. The boat may symbolize a small dream, a fleeting hope, or a playful childhood memory. Its fragility contrasts with the vastness of the sky, evoking a sense of childlike wonder and gentle yearning.

The closing line, “for light years,” broadens the scale dramatically, allowing us to feel the vastness of our universe. This simple phrase goes beyond time and space, suggesting a desire for an unending journey or an unreachable dream, sort of imaginative, but still holds some meaning. It transforms the scene into something meditative—where a single paper boat becomes a bridge between the earth and the cosmos, a bridge that also connects a dream with reality. It seems one is thoroughly enjoying the surreal environment that inspires them to see beyond limited vision and express one’s longing in the most beautiful and innocent way.

the mosquito mesh
pixelating
the night

— Danny Blackwell (Spain)
NHK TV program Haiku Masters, July 31, 2017. Reprinted in tiny words 17:2

Commentary from Nicholas Klacsanzky:

With the mention of “mosquito,” we could be receiving a kigo (seasonal reference), as they are most active during the warmer months—especially in June and July. Summer, as it relates to pixelation, can be likened to something overwhelming.

There is no explicit kireji (marker for the cut between parts in a haiku), but the line breaks act as a quasi one. The flow of the haiku can be read as one part, yet it is broken down as a pixelated mesh would be. This brings the reader more into the “space” of the poem.

The mosquito mesh is dual-acting: keeping out mosquitoes but also a catalyst for altered perception. As a person who used to work in information technology, I have often thought about the poetic implications of mesh and it being like pixelation. It is a visual metaphor drawn from the digital realm that plays with mundane texture. The mesh breaks the darkness of night into fragments, perhaps making it more manageable and less oppressive. This toriawase (combination of elements to create harmony) of the analog and digital invites multiple readings, with the word “night” having physical and metaphysical implications. “Night” could be indicative of a sadness, a horror, or a malaise.

The mesh could also be illustrative of the distance between intimacy and separation. The poet is close enough to notice the effect of the mesh, yet the mesh itself signifies a boundary between inside and outside, human and nature, the safe and the wild. It is a contemplative image that captures the modern condition: the world increasingly filtered, fragmented, and mediated through invisible grids.

With the repetition of t and i sounds, I can almost hear the tick of mosquitoes against the net and their whining. Overall, it is a haiku that expresses succinctly and poignantly a bridge between technology and the natural world, and the false divide we put up between nature and humanity.

emergency room
an elderly patient
rocking back and forth

— Tuyet Van Do (Australia) 
Pulse, 19th September 2025

Commentary from Jacob D. Salzer: 

The emergency room (ER) is a tough place to be, for a variety of reasons. While there is a triage process that’s designed for providers to first see patients with the most severe injuries and diseases, a lot of people end up in the waiting room for anywhere between 2 to 3 hours (or sometimes more) before being seen by a provider. The ER can be a crowded place. I’m personally a strong advocate for preventing diseases and injuries, though some things are hard or impossible to avoid. In this senryu, I first saw the ER waiting room full of people, and then noticed the elderly patient rocking back and forth. This movement could help create a soothing rhythm in the midst of what is often chaos and uncertainty. The elderly person could be rocking back and forth as they wait for the doctor or test results. While the ER can be a very difficult place to be, it’s also often a place of healing, recovery, and discovering what’s gone wrong.

We don’t know what the patient is going through in this senryu, but when I read this poem, I immediately feel compassion and empathy for the elderly person and for the human condition. It’s never easy being human, and it gets increasingly more common for things to go wrong in the body and mind as we age.

While this poem may seem simple on the surface, there are layers of psychological and medical complexity that I appreciate. A well-written senryu that offers a portal into another world.

Painting by Hisae Shouse