white lilac
the knife grinder's wheel
throwing up sparks
..........Paul T Conneally, UK
Comments [CH]:
This haiku combines the appeal of a classic style with an unusual juxtaposition
of subjects. The images in this poem work beautifully together. We aren't,t told
that the tiny star-shaped clusters of blossoms look "like" the sparks
from the grinding wheel, but that is there for us to discover. Also effective is
the contrasting of the softness of the flowers to the hard, roughness of the
wheel (as well as the sharpness of the knife). I imagine this sharpening work to
take place outside. The sparks spray up from the wheel. The possibility that the
poet worries about the flowers being singed by those sparks is available to
readers, but I prefer to take the path of a less ominous scenario. The poet,s
eyes follow the sparks up to where they vanish. Just above, or beyond the sparks
is a blooming white lilac. The spikes of flowers thrust up among leaves. I
intuit a connection between flowers and sparks that isn't merely a visual
identification. Another fine feature of this poem is scent. There is a marked
contrast between the somewhat acrid scent produced by the friction of metal on
stone and the delicate perfume of the lilac. Actually, this poem includes every
sense but that of taste. We see sparks, hear the grinding, smell flowers and
ozone, and bear witness to the press of knife to stone. Such a wealth in a
single haiku moment!
old tennis ball
someone yells
from a patch of violets
..........Yu Chang, USA
Comments [CH]:
This haiku does not tell us directly that it is about the irrepressible energy
of spring. As the weather warms, children can't wait to get outside and release
their pent up energy. Leading up to this poem, kids grabbed a tennis ball and
went outside to play catch on the lawn. An overthrow lands among some violets
(spring kigo). Tennis may well be considered a summer kigo, but the tennis ball
in this poem is old, no longer used on the courts. Since it lands in a
flowerbed, it's not likely to be in the environs of a court. The shout is
probably that of a child, either yelling "I found it!" or "I
can't find it!" Possibly the latter since an "old tennis ball"
would have lost much of its brightness and tend to blend more with the leaves of
plants. The shout could, however, come from an annoyed adult, weeding among the
violets when the ball suddenly plops down. The poet has crafted this haiku well.
There is a clear caesura at the end of the first line which allows the image of
the ball to sink into our consciousness. The poet does not try to force the more
traditionally Western short-long-short form on us by placing "from a
patch" at the end of the second line. These words are placed on the third
line with the image to which they are linked. So, the first line shows us the
ball. The second line causes us to wonder how the yelling and the ball are
related, thus setting up some tension. Then comes the Aha! Not until the final
line am I allowed to comprehend, in a flash, what just happened. At the same
time that I realize that some kids have been playing catch and have tossed their
ball into a bed of violets, I am also intuiting that this whole scene epitomizes
the exuberance of spring itself. This haiku uses implication to the utmost and
its subject matter is fresh. I enjoyed it very much.
distant traffic
a butterfly rests
on the rusted car
..........Sue Mill, AU
Comments [CH]:
This haiku is a marvel of contrasts: near and far, kinetic and passive, a vast
dissimilarity of weight, new and old, frenetic and contemplative, impermanent
and everlasting. All this in a single poem of nine words. Amazing! And beneath
all of these contrasts and textures insight resonates--the human condition in
its on-going relationship (often battle) with the rest of creation. The busy
world is exemplified by distant traffic; the poet's fascination with a butterfly
is indicative of his or her meditative state. The butterfly is so light . . .
cars so heavy. Traffic also represents a constant movement towards what is new;
the rust exemplifies the just-as-constant process of aging. Both butterfly and
the rust epitomize impermanence. The butterfly was once a worm. The rusting car
represents the inevitable--what all those newer cars will become after they've
endured their share of traffic. Figuratively, "rust" never fails to
show through our attempts to appear young and invincible. Even with so many
wonderful contrasts, the pervading feel of this poem is one of peace and calm.
The poet is simply basking in these stimuli, reveling in life.
spring sunbeam
a freckle-faced imp
unties my shoe
..........Kathy Lippard Cobb, US
Comments [CH]:
How many of us can say about this impish act "I used to do that!" I
know I can, and I'll bet I'm not one of a minority in having reveled in such
glee. The whole feel of "lightening up" is so perfectly childlike, so
perfectly spring. When the first signs of warmer weather appear, the child in
most of us adults does want to loosen up a bit, maybe even untie our
"shoes" (both actual and figurative), and kick them off! I like the
poet's use of the word "imp." It's an apt description of a mischievous
child. Funny . . . I've never before seen "imp" used in a haiku --
quite refreshing.
A "sunbeam," is a beautiful image, and useful too. It draws our
attention right down to the action taking place. Another nice connection is that
the spring sunbeam could double as a description of the child. The sounds in
this poem enhance the experience--the doubling of "s"s in the first
line; the doubling of "f"s in the second, and the long "oo"
at the end. To me, the sounds of "imp" and "oo" both have a
feel of impishness to them. What a delightful poem!
family funeral
twitterings from behind
an air vent
..........Paul T. Conneally, UK
Comments [CH]:
The first line is rather dramatic. Did a whole
family pass away through some terrible tragedy?! Perhaps. More probably, it is a
funeral at which only family members are present. In either case the poet
recognizes the contrast of events taking place in the same location. There is
the somber activity surrounding that which has passed away and the excited,
anticipatory activity attendant to what is just coming into being. The
twitterings are, of course, birds busily nesting in the vent, or under the
eaves. Perhaps these twitterings are the baby birds themselves. It is the sound
of this activity that lets us know that the season is spring. The word
"family" reveals a common theme within the juxtaposition of opposing
themes: a funeral ceremony and nesting birds. This poem evokes a sense of
renewed wonderment at endless cycle of life and death.
spring twilight
in the white azaleas
the bumble of bees
..........Joyce Maxner, US
Comments [CH]:
A fine pivot-type poem. The caesura can be read
either at the end of either the first line or the second. Each of these readings
points to the fact of the experience. Pausing at the end of the first line
emphasizes the aural aspect of the poem; pausing at the end of the second line,
emphasizes the visual. The pale light suffusing the pale flowers almost makes me
hold my breath, wanting to make the beauty of this twilight scene last a little
longer. The constant drone of bees juxtaposes the sense of timelessness to the
hushed wonder at the beauty of a transient moment. Yet the word
"bumble" really indicates the action of the bees, not the sound of
their wings. The word bumblebee is playful turned around to more effectively
describe the seeming awkwardness of these insects as they struggle and stumble
across fragile blossoms, collecting pollen. This poem is quiet and sensuous,
even magical in its beauty.
college quad
a lively exchange
of frisbees
..........Christopher Patchel, US
Comments [CH]:
This writer has cleverly arranged the elements
of his or her experience to induce laughter. A well-choreographed punch line!
But for the truth of this observation, however, the humor of it might be lost.
So, the combination of truth and the poet's skill has resulted in a very
entertaining senryu. For many youths, college is not just a place to deepen
their knowledge of particular subjects, or to develop skills necessary to embark
upon their careers. It is also a time for reveling in new freedoms, and at
becoming autonomous. In fact, in the lives of no small number of students,
studying ranks well below partying on their priority lists. Of course, this too
is a facet of education. Thanks for the chuckles.
spring meadow
a child's bicycle
tied to a tree
..........Yu Chang, US
Comments [CH]:
I'm not sure why a child would tie a bike to a
tree. It seems sad and, I guess, reflective of the times in which we live. Maybe
this meadow is in the suburbs and children who live there are very familiar with
theft so that they feel the need to protect what their possessions. What I like
about this poem is that, though the bicycle is tied up, the child is nowhere to
be seen. Maybe he or she is collecting flowers, or chasing butterflies, or
playing hide 'n' seek with friends. Whatever. The call of the wild has been
answered. I find that this poem draws me into the mystifying tension between
holding on and letting go.
stars at dusk
a spray of willow buds
by the gate
..........Carol Raisfeld, US
Comments [CH]:
Coming to the gate at dusk the poet
simultaneously notices the pale buds on the willow and the first pale stars
above. Fences divide one place from another; a gate in a fence opens the way
between those places. Without the fence and gate we may not notice a change from
here to there but when we do encounter them we notice. In this poem, both dusk
and the willow buds act as gates. To accentuate this sense, I'd be tempted to
switch the first and third lines. Viewed as a gate, dusk is the time when we can
observe the transition between day and night, when we notice the first few
stars. Viewed as a gate, the buds on the willow can be seen as a transition from
one season to the next, from dormancy to vitality--a time of opening. This poem
has a Buson-like beauty about it.
first warm day --
park pigeons shuffle slightly
to let us through
..........Billie Wilson, US
Comments [CH]:
It is early spring and, with the first warm
day, the poet and a friend are inspired to go out for a walk in the park. City
pigeons are used to people and expend little energy to get out of our way.
Regardless of their technical definitions, the words "shuffle" and
"slightly" somehow work together to faithfully describe the movements
of the birds. They feel no threat; they are contented. The poet and the poet's
friend are not in a hurry either. If they were, the pigeons might scatter with
more than just a slight shuffle. So it seems that on such a fine spring day,
both birds and poets are in no hurry. I enjoy the feeling of ease and
contentedness in this poem--also its sense of companionship.
