Tuyet Van Do – Page 2 – Haiku Commentary

in the margins
of a funeral
a message pings

— Kavita Ratna (India)
LEAF, June 2023

An important haiku that sparks a conversation about our views of death, funerals, and technology in modernity. The first line is unique because it has literal and potentially metaphorical interpretations. Was the person with the cellphone living at the psychological margins of the deceased person’s life when they were alive? Was the person with the cellphone a friend or acquaintance who didn’t know most of the people at the funeral? This can create an awkward social situation. At the same time, it can be humbling to see how one person touched so many people’s lives. The word “margins” seems to imply there are a lot of people attending the funeral. Perhaps this person doesn’t truly feel they can celebrate the deceased person’s life among the crowd of people. Does the modern-day ritual of funerals truly celebrate the deceased person in a unique way that they would actually want?

According to Elizabeth Fournier in her book, “The Green Burial Guide: Everything You Need to Plan an Affordable, Environmentally Friendly Burial”: “Funeral expenses in the United States average more than $10,000. And every year conventional funerals bury millions of tons of wood, concrete, and metals, as well as millions of gallons of carcinogenic embalming fluid. There is a better way.”

Here is The Green Burial Guide on Bookshop.org, which I recommend:
https://bookshop.org/p/books/the-green-burial-guidebook-everything-you-need-to-plan-an-affordable-environmentally-friendly-burial-elizabeth-fournier/10952712?ean=9781608685233&next=t

Even though the person in this haiku is not noticeable at the funeral, their cellphone ping briefly interrupts the service and has a ripple effect. This makes me wonder about the ways we communicate in our culture and the quality of our communication methods. Text messages can be useful, but they can also be overly used. Since the English Language and technology are both tools, I think they need to be used carefully and wisely. Silencing our cellphones is also a clear gesture of respect, which this person in the haiku clearly forgot to do. The ping notification could mean an important message came through, or it could be something more superficial. It reminds me that we are constantly communicating with each other, both verbally and non-verbally, all the time. But do we use cellphones too much? What are the consequences of spending too much time on our cellphones and other devices?

I think the social norms of funerals in the U.S. need to be psychologically interrupted in light of how costly they are, both environmentally and financially. I sincerely hope that more people could plan ahead for how they want to be remembered and celebrated in modest ways through a living will. I also sincerely hope more people would choose an eco-friendly burial option. This truly benefits everyone and saves a significant amount of money, too.

In short, this is an important haiku that starts a larger conversation about funerals, how we remember and celebrate someone, and the role of technology in our lives. It could also spark conversations about the afterlife and reincarnation. How do we want to be remembered? What are we leaving behind? How can death remind us of how we truly want to live within this limited lifetime, moment by moment? As a community, I hope that compassion and wisdom can be our guiding light.

spoon by spoon
feeding my patient …
a setting sun

— Tuyet Van Do (Australia)
Poetry Pea Journal 2:25, 2025

Commentary from Hifsa Ashraf:

I can sense pain, endurance, caring, and departure in this subtle poem where the patient is either dying or getting relief from suffering. I see both hope and despair. The patient being taken care of by a nurse or paramedic staff is all alone and helpless. ‘Spoon by spoon’ is a deep expression, showing bits and pieces of healing by nourishing the patient. It could be food, medicine, or something more energetic, but it also depicts old age, where a person depends on others for their well-being.

The use of ellipses in the second line after ‘feeding my patient’ stresses the depth of feelings of the person who is nursing the patient. Do they have any association with the patient? Do they empathise with the patient? Do they feel bad about the patient? Who is the patient? What’s the age of the patient? Is the patient alone or have a family? All these details remain open for interpretation.

The last part of this haiku reveals something unfortunate and helpless. The dying sun symbolizes the end of life, when day transforms into night. In other words, the transformation of life into death or from an uncomfortable condition to a comfortable condition, where the patient sleeps well after getting some care. I see another aspect here: ‘sun’ may also be symbolic of the gender of the patient by creating an analogy of the sun with ‘son’. The beauty of this poem is that you can interpret it in as many ways as you can, and each aspect may lead to the harsh reality of life, which is death.

Sakura Jishidi
shadows of sparrows
amongst the pink

— Katherine E Winnick (UK)
Presence #79, 2024

Commentary from Nicholas Klacsanzky:

“Sakura Jishidi” is the name of the Japanese tree peony. They commonly bloom in spring, and are used in haiku to signify this season. Employing the Japanese word for the flower instead of the English version is an intriguing choice. I believe it increases the sound quality of the haiku, as “Japanese tree peony” doesn’t mesh with the “s” and “i” sounds in the rest of the poem as much.

The keyword in this haiku, in my opinion, is “shadows.” I feel it has two meanings: the physical presence of shadows and the memory of sparrows. It could also be a reference to something fleeting, ominous, or gloomy. The mood of this haiku centers around this word, as even though the sakura blossoms display their pink, the memory, absence, or distance of sparrows decorates the flowers. Ultimately, this brings about a melancholy mood amidst spring. I resonate with these types of moods in haiku, as they mirror our nuanced lives. Within joy, there is oftentimes a touch of sadness or loss. This does not diminish joy, in my opinion, but allows us to be more grateful when it occurs and to experience it with a mature lens.

Negotiations —
owner, bank, architect, notary,
and now this mosquito…

— Antoine Cassar (Malta)

Commentary from Jacob D. Salzer:

As humans, we are frequently faced with negotiations, but this haiku also has a humorous twist in the last line, which I appreciate. It seems the poet’s sense of humor in this haiku may be a kind of coping mechanism among frustrating and/or challenging situations in life.

Another unique feature of this haiku is the poet’s use of punctuation. We have an em dash, four commas, and an ellipsis, which is rarely seen in a single haiku. I think the many forms of punctuation amplify a drawn-out, elongated effect, which seems to give the impression that the poet may be tired of negotiations and wants more peace and silence. Indeed, some negotiations also go on for quite some time. For example, competing for the ownership of a house can involve several negotiations regarding the mortgage payments and the down payment.

In short, this is an interesting haiku that blends humor with the heavy financial decisions, negotiations, and struggles that many of us face in modern life.

musical notes
across the power lines
spotted doves

— Tuyet Van Do (Australia)
haikuNetra, issue 1.2, 2023

Commentary from Nicholas Klacsanzky:

I prefer haiku that employ pivot lines, and this one delivers. “Musical notes across power lines” is a neat phenomenon to imagine. However, it can turn morbid if we imagine the doves are getting electrocuted and there is sound coming from that occurrence. “Across the power lines, spotted doves” is much more tame, in my opinion, as it sees the doves adding their songs to the hum of electrical lines. This interpretation makes a connection between nature and the human world.

This haiku is also pleasant to the ear, with the strong presence of “o” and “s.” It is paced well, too, with the traditional short/long/long rhythm. Also, with only eight words, the poet focused on brevity and the economy of language. In addition, the poet made sure the poem didn’t lean into verbosity. Overall, this haiku combines a variety of poignant interpretations with technical accuracy in its craft.

where school ends wildflowers

— Srini (India)
haikuNetra, issue 1.4, 2023

Commentary from Hifsa Ashraf:

This simple monoku says a lot in four words. I see it in terms of time and space. It starts with a question that lets us pause and think about the space or place. The school may be in a remote area, a war-affected domain, a refugee camp, or a city/town. The location is significant in this case. I see it as a war-affected area or a refugee camp where it’s unpredictable what will happen after school or where learning and knowledge will take a student. ‘School ends’ doesn’t mean anything certain in the future or ‘school ends wildflowers’ may lead to something specific. Another aspect could be a school where a person rejoices in a carefree life, and when it comes to an end, the worries or anxieties about the future start coming.

I like the way the poet ends it with ‘wildflowers’—something I often use in my poems, and it’s the title of my micropoetry book on refugees. ‘Wildflowers’ show both abundance and abandonment here depending on how we read it i.e. ‘school ends wildflowers’= abundance or ‘school ending at wildflowers’= abandonment. So, it can be an opportunity for a new life or a new beginning. It could also display a hope for abundance. On the flipside, it could demonstrate abandonment in a real sense where someone may get stuck with a career or responsibility, or remain directionless like wildflowers. Ultimately, I take it as something positive irrespective of the location or situation of the school or personal experiences associated with it.

Haiku Commentary

Tag: Tuyet Van Do

Haiku by Kavita Ratna, Tuyet Van Do, and Katherine E Winnick

Haiku from Antoine Cassar, Tuyet Van Do, and Srini