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WHCtournament
- Match 3 (Finals) - Haiku
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| June,
Match 3: Judges Haiku Selections & Comments |
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Kigo Haiku: "slug(s)"
Kigo Haiku: "mosquito(es)"
Free Form Haiku: (any subject)
Kigo Haiku: "tadpoles"
Judges: Janice
Bostok (AU), Ferris Gilli (US), Yasuomi Koganei (JP), Michael McClintock (US),
Susumu Takiguchi (UK).
Kigo: "slug(s)"
Match Three
Judge Janice Bostok's Selection
a banana slug
atop mother's grave
indolent as she was
Gary Steinberg
At first glance some may think
'indolent' might not be a suitable description for a non-human slug. But
if we examine the alternative meanings (sluggish, slothful, disinclined to work
hard!) indolent seems to be more dignified and respectful, particularly when
speaking of the dear departed. This brings the mother and the slug together in
an almost humorous and affection way. I think this is a good example of using
the right word in the right place.
Judge Ferris Gilli's Selection
a few slugs
in the new lettuce--
final exam week
DeVar Dahl
I like this juxtaposition.
The slugs and the lettuce can symbolize more than meets the eye in print, in the
"final exam week" context. It works well taken at face
value too---someone may be getting ready to graduate college and move on to
grander things and other kinds of "green"; but slugs will forever be
going after new lettuces in someone's garden.
Judge Yasuomi Koganei's
Selection
thistles in bloom
by a rusted-out gas pump
Route 66
Karma Tenzing Wangchuk
It is a good history-narrating
haiku. This haiku reminds me of "Grapes of Wrath", written by John E.
Steinbeck. Since the Great Crisis, many dreamers headed for California looking
for jobs, gold, or realizing their American Dreams. The thistles, a wild plant
with prickly leaves, might give lessons to careless dreamers (careless flower
pickers) by their prickles.
Judge Paul MacNeil's Selection
a slug's trail
where the stalk bends --
amaryllis in bloom
ito
Part of the natural realm, slugs
can upset a gardener's plan. Chewing a bloom-stalk of such prominent flowers
shows both sides of our own idea of beauty. This haiku shows fine craft as put
to the page.
Judge Michael McClintock's
Selection
garden deity --
the banana slug
enters its mouth
an'ya
What an arresting, memorable
image! And of course the banana slug has no regard for the deity
here. What are gods to men are lumps of stone or a place out of the sun
for the rest of creation. The humor here is insightful and the delivery direct
and uncomplicated.
Judge Susumu Takiguchi's
Selection
beer trap -
slug trails leave it
in all directions
Alan J Summers
Kigo such as "slug"
would tend to evoke similar reactions and associations in people. While we can
readily share the experience of poets using such a kigo, it can also mean a
danger of resulting haiku poems becoming similar to each other as their
materials (themes, ideas and phrases) become limited, repeated and hackneyed.
However, one never ceases to be amazed by the most frequently used idea turned
into an excellent haiku, by a deft hand, with new insight or observation. Once
upon a time, I used to have green fingers and slugs were my enemy. They are
still abundant around my old farm house. I don't kill them now as I have become
an Issa but they used to be salted, drowned in beer or boiled to death. They
seem to call the trap "beer pub" in England and caffeine is now tipped
to be the best weapon against slugs.
The attraction of this haiku comes
not only from such shared experiences but
also from the wonderfully witty way the author depicts the image of drunken
slugs fleeing aimlessly, not by "live coverage" but by the
skilful use of the common material, the "slug trails". The slug trails
here are the "history" the author reads, like the summer grasses or
cricket helmet of Basho, or scratch marks in the gas chambers, of the
unmistakable routes along which the condemned creatures fled blindly from the
death trap into their certain destruction without exception ("all").
Mundane day to day event, modest creatures, common scene, plain language,
brevity, sense of humour, good breaks, kigo, no sentimentality, no
conceptualisation, no condensation or compression, no presumption of profundity
except it is profound, ordinary words used skilfully, newness, good use of a
verb without its ill-effect etc. Name ingredients of a good haiku, or haiku
itself, you
have them in this poem. Read this one and you will need no haiku definitions.
Even without any other good things which are coming out of this Global Haiku
Tournament, this poem alone will have made one feel that the event was worth
having.
[Note: In this and in other haiku I have selected as a judge, I relied on
the assumption that the authors are telling the truths, well poetic truths. For
instance, I am not so familiar with the "beer trap" in this haiku if
it is not done in the way familiar in England. Thus, slugs are interpreted as
having been to the trap and then escaping from it everywhere but, saturated in
beer, will die in the end. They perish with salt. I did not interpret that they
would have an exquisite and pleasurable afternoon nap after the escape. They
normally get drowned in beer. If the author were saying that the slugs are
attracted from all directions and lured into the honey pot to their destruction,
he/she would not have used the phrases "leave it" or "in
all directions" which can only indicate escape routes radiating outward
from the beer trap. If the author had made it up, it would still be a good haiku
in terms of poetic license but its merit would go right down in terms of poetic
truth (fuga no makoto)]
Kigo: "mosquito(es)"
Match Three
Judge Janice Bostok's Selection
the pitcher stops
his long wind up -
a mosquito's buzz
John Wisdom
This poem attracts me because of the movement, and the parallel
drawn between the pitcher's wind up and the mosquito's wind up, before it
settles to sting. When we hear the familiar buzz of a mosquito we are warned and
we stop what we are doing, prepared to strike. The image of the pitcher, frozen
in time, like a statue, and the sound of the mosquito, merge into one action
with the warning buzz at the end. I believe the mosquito has won!
Judge Ferris Gilli's Selection
old diary opened--
the fine lines of a mosquito
crumble when touched
kris kondo
This image is so vivid, I keep coming back to it. It resonates
even more because of the juxtaposition of "old diary" and the fragile,
dried mosquito. Sometime the things we wrote many years ago in our youth, that
at the time we thought were vastly important, make us feel a little foolish to
think about now. Speaking from a female's viewpoint, we teenage girls who were
fond of keeping diaries were often very fragile emotionally -- crumbling at a
glance or word.
Judge Yasuomi Koganei's Selection
persistent mosquito
composing another draft
of a Dear John letter
Fay Aoyagi
It effectively uses the characteristics of the mosquito than the
others. The mosquito may be so persistent that she may write good-bye to him,
though I don't know whether it is against her will or not.
Judge Paul MacNeil's Selection
lakeside party
the birthday girl counts
mosquito bites
Carmen Sterba
This reminds me of the child, who when asked her age, raises
fingers and speaks the number. Counting candles on the cake connects to the
practicality of also
counting her bites. Is that icing on those counting fingers? This is well
constructed and reads very naturally.
Judge Michael McClintock's Selection
old diary opened--
the fine lines of a mosquito
crumble when touched
kris kondo
A deft side-stepping of the mosquito kigo, no doubt, but
memorable, using the delicacy and fragility of the desiccated mosquito to convey
a sad sense of human and individual history. What are such histories full of?
What has become of all the passion behind the words in the diary? -- they
"crumble when touched" is the figurative meaning here, conveyed
through concrete imagery alone. Powerful, thoughtful writing -- refusing to be
limited or constrained by the traditional or ordinary response to the kigo
challenge.
Judge Susumu Takiguchi's Selection
ocean sunset
mosquito itch
on sunburn
Chris Patchel
While selecting the best haiku in this category, I was actually
bitten by a mosquito, which may or may not have influenced my choice. For there
are three top candidates and I was agonising to decide on the winner for nearly
an hour now, itching to write this comment. England seems to be infested with
mosquitoes this summer. Summer is my most favourite season in most countries I
know, and the only season I like in England. However, its disadvantages are far
from being few and far between: food poisoning, sunstroke, perspiration,
lethargy AND mosquitoes to name but a few. Sunburn itches, so this haiku is
about a double itch.
By accident or design, there is a symmetry between line 1 and
line 2 with "o" and "s", two words and repeat of
"sun". If it's intentional, the brevity of the poem and its very
natural flow have prevented it from becoming too gimmicky or artificial. In
fact, it's a good feature of prosody which the English language is capable of
exploring and exploiting. This haiku could be presented as a fine specimen of
it. Mosquitoes are a nuisance to say the least. The enjoyment of viewing the
beauty of the ocean sunset is constantly spoilt by the mosquito itch, a common
enough experience of everybody and yet combined with another nuisance, the itchy
sunburn, the poem amalgamates what is serious (beauty) and what is humorous in
highly tight and stylised poetic refinement. This combination, if successful, is
an important feature of good haiku. Not a word, syllable, stress, intonation,
break, alliteration or anything else more, not the ditto less. It is a
minimalist haiku at its best.
Free Form
from Match Three
Judge Janice Bostok's Selection
dark night
shadows invade
our conversation
Gary Steinberg
This poem manages to give us as much, or as little, as we wish
to accept
from it. It is one of those poems that we find more in each time we go back
to. At face value it is an simple image of light and shade. The use of
'invade' gives us a hint of something more mysterious, even sinister, in the
night. Perhaps this 'dark night' indicates a dark time in their life. Two
people are having a serious conversation. Something moves and its shadow
invades their privacy. Their conversation is interrupted, paused, put on
hold. It's as if something (memories (shadows) from the past, perhaps) is
stopping them from discussing what they have come together to work out.
Judge Ferris Gilli's Selection
summer's end
a drawbridge across
the changing tide
paul m
The juxtaposition appeals to me. As the seasons change, so do
the tides -- in spite of whatever foolish and harmful things mankind manages to
do to nature, or to ourselves. This haiku carries me to a deeper level. The tide
of global human affairs seems to be ever changing to some degree, and not
necessarily for the good of societies. Still, I like to think that even in
today's troubled world, there remains and will remain a bridge between peoples
of similar goals of peace and world understanding. As one bridge parts, another
one somewhere is surely being created. For me, this haiku symbolizes hope.
Judge Yasuomi Koganei's Selection
summer's end
a drawbridge across
the changing tide
paul m
What happened during summer may make her/him to change the
direction of the current living way, but the way has the drawbridge she/he has
to get across. "Summer's end", "drawbridge" and
"changing tide" are combined well, that is, tree words are combined
better than the others.
Judge Paul MacNeil's Selection
summer's end
a drawbridge across
the changing tide
paul m
At first glance the allusion to the flow of tides and the flow
seasons may seem obvious. But, perhaps a family has vacationed on an island and
leaving by the
bridge is quite symbolic of a return to work, to the city. A sailboat may even
be passing and traffic has already started to imitate the city while the bridge
is
in the up position. Horns honk? This writer has delivered images of the
experience quite effortlessly; words fade and I find myself also watching the
water -- while I wait.
Judge Michael McClintock's Selection
Independence Day
I fill the gap with the words
Mother wants to hear
Fay Aoyagi
A painful portrait of a strained relationship, summarized in a
few words. How often holidays bring together family or relatives in a kind of
tribal ritual where, in fact, little authentic is shared or communicated.
"Independence Day" functions less as a kigo here in the traditional
haiku and more as an ironic setting of the stage for a poem whose main thrust is
a comment on human behavior -- a senryu. That being said, there are in fact many
haiku using holiday-centered kigo that do the same; they are a kind of sub-genre
of haiku.
Judge Susumu Takiguchi's Selection
evening sky -
I weed all around
a wildflower
Linda Robeck
I have had no problem choosing the winner in this category as
this one stood head and shoulder above all else. It was waiting and shouting to
be "picked". I did just that. The greatest value of it is its newness.
No, not that the evening sky is new, or weeding or a wildflower. It is the very
irony and humour of treating the wildflower not merely like a garden flower as
such but by its very subtle implication in a way which suggests more affection,
respect or infatuation given to it in the act of weeding than to the garden
flower. The word "all" reinforces that sentiment.
Weeding around a wildflower is a contradiction in terms. Once
weeded, i.e. gardening treatment given, it is no longer a wild flower in that
sense. Such contradiction appears in Japanese haiku, and in Japanese literature
generally, as shared sense of humour. The Japanese all know that it is a
contradiction and enjoy it as such. How boring life would be if everything is
logically coherent and explicable! We see too much of such coherence and
explanation in men but then, real men are different. Let us not, for instance,
want to know the name of the wildflower. That is science. That is horticulture.
Though knowledge should not prejudice haiku composition, if the name were given
to this wildflower, too much attention would have been drawn to it to the
detriment of the fine balance it keeps as it is. In this poem, a wildflower is
one of those whose name, or whose existence even, we are not aware of. It could
be a wildflower in Basho's Japan, or in Brazil or in Africa. That sort of
rendering makes this a subtle and excellent haiku.
"Evening sky" may be the weakest link. It may just be
how the situation happened to be when the author weeded around the wildflower
(i.e. just a historical fact), but it may indicate that the author had been
gardening all afternoon, for instance, and only after that found this particular
flower, goodness knows where. The irony would be even stronger should that be
the case. One likes to think it was not in the garden but in a meadow or
somewhere. The connection of "evening sky" is thus vague but it is
good enough to provide the background, situation and time to the poem. Not
everything in haiku needs to be clear and explicable. As a traditionalist, I
personally wish desperately there were some seasonal reference. But, then, this
is the free-form category, and one more specificity such as "summer
evening" would make this universal haiku less universal.
Kigo (Tadpoles)
from Match Three
Judge Janice Bostok's Selection
vacation ends
the tadpole tank
filled with frogs
Gary Steinberg
This haiku appears to be a simple situation, but as often
happens, change takes place when we look away for a time. Every one (perhaps
from a school
classroom) has been away on vacation. On return, there are no tadpoles in the
tank, only frogs! What a delightful surprise! The familiar is no longer
familiar, but has become unfamiliar. The children may see this as a a small
miracle. There are lots of small miracles in nature, happening every day.
Judge Ferris Gilli's Selection
morning sun
spilling through the shallows
tadpoles
Billie Wilson
I love these bright, spring images. The pivotal second line
creates a delightful rhythm for the whole thing, which is enhanced in this
instance by the repetition of "ing" and "ll" and the
alliteration of "s" sounds. It is delightful to read loud.
Judge Yasuomi Koganei's Selection
bluegrass festival
tadpoles wriggling
in a tomboy's jar
Chris Patchel
It indicates the scenery of the bluegrass festival well. The
audience may be wriggling, also synchronizing with the rhythm of the bluegrass,
but may be not so violent -- the violence in the tomboy's jar.
Judge Paul MacNeil's Selection
among lily pads
a few tadpoles
cling to a stem
John Wisdom
Pads and stems will lead to the wonderful blooms, blooms that
may attract flies. So too will the tadpoles become frogs. And, the high point of
this poem for me, those frogs may sit on the lily pads.
Judge Michael McClintock's Selection
vacation ends
the tadpole tank
filled with frogs
Gary Steinberg
A simple, humorous poem. The tadpoles that were caught at the
beginning of this vacation have now grown up -- as have the children who
caught them, just a little we can imagine, and now must march off to the dull,
adult-routines of school, while the tadpoles, hopefully, take up the routines of
life as bona fide frogs, eating flies. . . .
Judge Susumu Takiguchi's Selection
vacation ends
the tadpole tank
filled with frogs
Gary Steinberg
A good haiku. The reasons are self-explanatory. What else can I
say other than what the poem says? An obvious point but still that which
sustains my interest in this poem is the passage of time, which is one of the
good underlying themes of haiku. The word "vacation" itself contains
an implicit pre-determined duration of time with its definite beginning and
ending. The end of any good things is sad, albeit inevitable: "All good
things come to an end", while the end of bad things never seems to be
around. However, the end of a vacation (especially summer vacation) has, at
least to me, special kind of melancholy. More obvious in the haiku is the
biological time as tadpoles turn into frogs very quickly ("almost by the
hour", Higginson).
In another good haiku in this session, two legs growing on a
tadpole are used for the same purpose. A Japanese phrase karo-tosen (a
fireplace in summer and a fan in winter) signifies something which is useless or
misplaced. The tadpole tank filled with frogs is a karo-tosen , like an
over-grown bamboo shoot, food which has passed its sell-by date, a member list
of past years, employees made redundant, a Japanese spring kigo in Australia, or
haijin in this world (Basho). Creating useless haiku about useless things could
be the ultimate and uniquely special but still useless privilege denied to
others but conferred on us useless haijin. Where could the frogs go? Back to the
old pond?
