Choice Haiku ~
John Daleiden
|
Life in the
Mostly Unexamined World
Forty-three
poets from thirteen countries have contributed two hundred
seventy-three poems to the July / August 31, 2011 "insect /
bug" Haiku Thread.
For the theamed
"insect / bug Haiku Thread Sketchbook poets
submitted an unprecedented 273 poems; picking a single haiku
as choice has been difficult... However, after
narrowing the field down to ten I have reached a decision.
My number one choice was submitted by Chen-ou Liu, CA:
one by
one
fireflies escape my glass jar...
starry night
# 95. Chen-ou Liu, CA
The narrator in
this ku, possibly a child, has been collecting
fireflies in a glass jar. What child has not participated in
this activity on an early, twilight summer eve? Such an
activity permits a close up inspection of these mysterious,
luminescent creatures—an
up close experience of the microcosm. Later, the narrator
releases the fireflies, and one by one they escape their
"glass" confinement returning to the larger world. They
become indistinguishable in the clear night sky as as their
tiny, glowing lights become intermixed with the canvas of
the night sky filled with stars. The transformation of views
is dramatic—moving
from a microcosmic view to a macrocosmic view. It is this
shift of view point that captures my attention. The child
like act of capturing fireflies as specimens for display in
a glass jar is commonplace, but allowing them to escape and
mingle as points of light against the large canvas of a sky
on a starry night leads one to speculate on the larger
questions about life. What is life? Is there life in
the vast and mostly unexplored, distant universe? Are
the life forms of the "firefly", a "human", and a distant
"star" related? What is the origin of life? These are
large questions—all
of which invade my mind upon reading Chen-ou Liu's
interesting haiku?
Some readers may
object to the selection of this haiku as a Choice example.
Both "firefly" and "starry night" are commonly listed kigos—haijin
purists will hastily point out that only one kigo should be
used. Yet, the vastness of the questions that arise in my
mind from reading Chen-ou Liu's haiku lead me to persist in
this choice.
Instead of
picking a second and third place haiku I choose to note that
this Thread includes many haiku of merit. The following
haiku of merit from the thread have been arranged in no
particular order as sequences. As individual haiku of merit
I believe that their images, juxtaposed in sequences, lead
us to a larger understanding of the universe.
Cricket
Songs: A Haiku Sequence
Autumn rain—
the cricket seeks
a new shelter
# 253. Maria Tirenescu, RO
on the jungle path
the soft chirps of cricket—
late summer romance
# 86. Ramesh Anand, Malaysia
overtime—
incessantly a cricket sings
on the window sill
# 171. Bouwe Brouwer, NL
Full moon—
the cricket’s song
and a lonely old man
# 215. Maria Tirenescu, RO |
Cricket's concert
in the moonless night—
the first stars
# 257. Maria Tirenescu, RO
cricket song—
sleeping at night
with an open window
# 212. Cara Holman, US
shortest night—
on the breeze, one thousand
cricket voices
# 206. Cara Holman, US
Concert end—
stuck to the heavy boot sole
a dumb cricket
# 44. Vasile Moldovan, RO |
Between
Showers: A Haiku Sequence
Sunday snooze . . .
cocooned
in cicada song
# 81. Marg Beverland, NZ
between
showers
the summer air saturated
with cicada song
# 169. Bouwe Brouwer, NL
summer evening
daylight dissolves
into cicada song
# 277. Bouwe Brouwer, NL |
cumulonimbus
the pent up heat
of cicada song
# 25. Michele Harvey, US
after the rain
cicadas
and a water pump
# 69. Marg Beverland, NZ
cloudless
night—
cicada song deepens
the garden
# 175. Bouwe Brouwer, NL |
|
Easter planting
she unearths the empty shell
of a cicada
# 234. André Surridge, NZ |
Buzz, buzz,
buzz: A Haiku Sequence
two fat drunks
on the front porch swing
the mosquito and I
# 11. Terri French, US
buzzing mosquitos—
a romatic evening
kiss interrupted
# 276. Sandra Martyres, IN
she comes every night
explores his body and drinks
wicked mosquito!
# 144. Munia Khan, BD |
mosquito
feeling for a gap
in the screen
# 226. André Surridge, NZ
his gravelly voice,
all your feet flat on the floor...
mosquitoes buzzing
# 65. Chen-ou Liu, CA
he fractures his wrist
swatting a mosquito—
et tu Brute!
# 62. Sandra Martyres, IN |
The
Carriers: A Haiku Sequence
summer heat
a line of ants moving
across Das Kapital
# 177. Chen-ou Liu, CA
the war zone
on a wounded bush
lurking ants
# 111. Vera Primorac, CR
Between sky
and sea
a footbridge for ants—
the mast heel
# 30. Vasile Moldovan, RO
|
insect guide
a child points
out an ant
# 35. Karen O'Leary, US
crossing
our invisible bridges—
army ants
# 244. Alegria Imperial, CA
A row of ants
climbing up a rose—
a petal falls
# 261. Maria Tirenescu, RO
|
a cortege of ants
busy transporting food—
long garden paths
# 213. Keith A. Simmonds, TT |
Hometown
Memories: A Haiku Sequence
Tai
Chi morning
a spider climbs slowly
up the wall
# 204. Cara Holman, US |
summer rain—
under the maple leaf
a small spider
# 23. Andrzej Dembonczyk, PL |
hometown
memories...
a spider mending a hole
in the attic wall
# 63. Chen-ou Liu, CA |
caught in a web
the fly becomes prey—
a waiting spider
# 100. Sandra Martyres, IN
|
spider's web ...
struggling for survival
a curious fly
# 231. Keith A. Simmonds, TT |
|
spinning her web
a spider waits for dinner—
the patient bride smiles
# 268. John Daleiden, US |
Shadow Darners:
A Haiku Sequence
desert sand
in a skull’s eye shadow
a dragonfly
# 68. Bernard Gieske, US
sultry afternoon
the iridescent sheen
of dragonfly wings
# 210. Cara Holman, US
Twilight—
a dragonfly rests
on the dry stick
# 273. Maria Tirenescu, RO |
how beautiful
the name for a dragonfly—
shadow darner
# 67. Vania Stefanova, BG
Abandoned hut—
only two dragonflies
live in it
# 41. Oprica Padeanu, RO
Silence, please!
on the faded branch
a dragonfly sleeps
# 43. Oprica Padeanu, RO |
Working: A
Haiku Sequence
bee
hive—
where the workers never
strike
# 101. Stella Pierides, DE
a thousand bees
on the cherry blossoms—
the lonely mother
# 265. Maria Tirenescu, RO
viola
the stem bends
bumblebee
# 91. Marg Beverland, NZ |
learning
patience—
a honey bee hovers
over tight buds
# 51. Terri French, US
poppy petals
flutter in the sun
a bee hovers
# 129. Vera Primorac, CR
bee sting—
I erase honey
from my shopping list
# 220. Irena Szewczy, PL |
Drawn To the
Light: A Haiku Sequence
dawn
zigzagging across the lawn
a moth
#71. Marg Beverland, NZ
|
dusk light
moths shiver up
from the grass
# 27. Michele Harvey, US |
summer wind—
our thoughts imitating moths
circling the light
# 254. Alegria Imperial, CA
|
rain-brushed wings
flutter in the night:
Luna moth
# 05. Chitra Rajappa, IN
|
vampire moth
in the depth of the night
the moon is full
# 176. Willie E. Bongcaron, PH
|
...And finally,
because they are humorous as well as serious...well, sort of...I guess it all
depends on your point of view...
eternal life
only the roaches
come close
# 103. Stella Pierides, DE
in my salad
a green caterpillar—
life lesson
# 105. Stella Pierides, DE
a dragonfly
motionless on my shoulder—
tattoo saloon
# 188. Irena Szewczyk, PL
midsummer night
home alone with my dog
picking fleas
# 274. Chen-ou Liu, CA
To close this
commentary on "bug / insect" Haiku I remind all of you that
in spite of the close of summer the universe of bugs lives
on in the unborn generations that will emerge in due time.
lady
bug, lady bug
don’t you know
summer’s gone
# 70. Bernard Gieske, US
|
|