About Almost Saying Nothing
Haiku have
many facets; perhaps, that is why they are so interesting
and a challenge to compose. One facet of haiku is the
accomplishment of actually saying almost nothing yet evoking
a whole chapter for the reader to think about. To understand
more of this particular aspect, you might want to first read
“Haiku About Almost Nothing” by Max Verhart. To access
click on:
http://www.geraldengland.co.uk/hk/hk003.htm
I recently
read a quote from Edward Hopper. “If you could say it with
words, you wouldn’t have to paint it.” The same might fit
here. If you can’t say it in a few words, write a haiku.
In any case, these kinds of haiku prompt the reader to fill
in the blanks.
You might
find more of these type of haiku in the “wind in the reeds”
haiku contest.
In making my
selection, I thought I would choose those haiku that leave
more unsaid than said leaving the rest up to the reader to
add. What I or any reader supplies will not necessarily
match the poet’s thoughts.
**
farmer’s
market
a ladybug
crawls
out of
the lettuce
# 53.
Cara Holman, US
For me Cara
Holman’s haiku evokes the sense of a temporary community of
like-minded people who value the same things. This is a
friendly gathering of those who cherish the earth and its
gifts. The ladybug is no stranger to those who farm
organically. They are the protectors of what the farmer has
planted and is growing to sell; consequently, this ladybug
is no intruder and should be welcomed, a sight giving
evidence that this lettuce has been grown organically.
Ladybugs are also a favorite insect of children. If a child
happened to spot this ladybug, I can imagine it crying out
with delight.
***
dinner
party chill
a snap
pea
cuts the
silence
# 21.
Karin Anderson, AU
Evidently
this dinner party, which should be a time of good times and
welcomed social interchange, took a sudden turn causing a
complete halt freezing the moment in silence. No doubt many
of us can recall such a situation, not necessarily at a
dinner party, but on some other occasion. We are left to
supply the reason from our own experiences. Karin Anderson
heightens the suspense by using the smallness of the snap
pea and its ability to cut the silence despite that being so
thick. We not only feel the chill but can visualize the
cutting. Such contrasts make this a great haiku.
***
the last
broccoli
from my
garden
summer's
end
# 06.
Máire Morrissey-Cummins, IR
The key word
in Máire Morrissey-Cummins haiku is “last”. The end might be
a specific month on the calendar, but, no doubt, what is
unsaid are all the feelings that the gardener lived through
during the many months from the beginning to the ending of
the garden, initiated many months before with planning and
then buying seeds, digging, planting, hoeing, harvesting,
etc. and finally, now the last broccoli. Since broccoli
thrives in colder weather, the span of months has taken up
most of the year. Even though much labor and time has been
invested, we can assume that the gardener is not feeling
relief but rather a good kind of satisfaction and reluctant
regret to see all come to an end.
***
two
slightly bitter
olives in
the dish...
he looks
away
# 03.
Vania Stefanova, BG
I can
visualize here in Vania Stefanova’s haiku a relationship,
evoked by the number two, that has turned sour. The viewer
looks away not wanting to face what has transpired. If we
consider the symbolism of olives, the meaning takes on a
much graver significance. The olive symbolizes life,
renewal, resilience, and peace and the oil symbolizes
purity, protection, health and light. One could say that
this is what a loving relationship should contain and
promote. The two shall become one flesh. But here the olives
are bitter, the relationship has turned sour, and no longer
is desirable. There is no chance of oneness. Again we are
left to supply the why.
***
after peeling
all the
layers of onion
which is
the real?
# 26. Aju
Mukhopadhyay, IN
The person
peeling onions ends up with tearing eyes, but onions are
sweet tasting and there are many layers in an onion, some
thin and some thick. The question posed here by Aju
Mukhopadhyay converts this from a possible haiku into a
senryu. We all know that first impressions are quite often
unreliable. Some people may, at first, be hard to get to
know, but once we do, we find that they make good friends.
Some persons can open themselves up readily and quickly;
others take their time letting us slowly peel back their
layers in getting to know them. There are all kinds of
friendships and we have the choice of how many layers we
choose to unveil in letting others know us. There is the
question of trust which can be layers deep.
Stefanija
Ludvig’s haiku evokes the same kind of response, but we need
to go beyond the first reaction to cutting open the onion
and dig a little deeper for another experience.
tears—
the
fragrant first cut
into a
red onion
# 07.
Štefanija Ludvig, CR
These tears
may be the happy kind, when we can welcome back someone who
has been away and we are relieved to see and embrace them
once again. That first moment of cutting is so delightful.
The “red: quantifies the feelings of the moment.
****
new
year’s wishes
sprouts
between the
concrete
slabs
# 33.
Ramesh Anand, IN
Why doesn’t
grass grow where you want it and not between those cracks in
the sidewalk? If you mow your lawn, you share the same
frustration. So what about all those New Year’s wishes? How
many of them end up true? Or have you simply given up
having any? Resolutions here can be substituted for wishes.
At the beginning of the year a lot of people resolve to lose
weight. Notwithstanding all their good intentions, extra
weight sprouts up in undesirable places.
***
shelling
peas
the pop
of freedom
from each
pod
# 49.
Máire Morrissey-Cummins, IR
Back to the
pea, such a small vegetable, which can have a great impact.
See haiku # 118. For all animals life begins in the womb or
an egg, a very confined space like peas in a pod. There is
also the butterfly that emerges from a cocoon. Upon birth or
emergence all have that instant freedom of living on their
own. The “pop” of Máire Morrissey-Cummins’ haiku makes this
a great haiku. We can hear this loudly in our minds. And
then the following word, “freedom” opens up a scene of
endless blue or whatever color is happiness for you. Peas
are a spring vegetable; consequently, the green of the peas
and the pod reinforce the impact and a lingering sense of
new life.
***
says the
cauliflower
to the
over-size cabbage—
you need
to lose weight
# 60.
Sandra Martyres, IN
A very
timely message. As I walk through the Mall and look at the
people walking by, this last line of Sandra Martyres’
crosses my mind. I do keep in mind that I too should be
losing a few pounds. I would rather be that cauliflower than
the over-size cabbage.
***
this year
again
those
incredible
neighbour's cucumbers
# 148.
Djurdja Vukelic Rozic, Croatia
I can
empathize with this gardener. It may not be a question of
cucumbers but one of flowers. The flowers I try to grow in
my yard are pathetic compared to those of my neighbour. This
is not the first year this gardener has taken a look at his
neighbour’s cucumbers and all his other vegetables. That one
word “again” adds a lot of meaning.
With haiku
it’s better to particularize rather than generalize. So this
could have been any other vegetable. I do not get a sense of
envy, jealousy, or even disappointment on the part of this
gardener but rather an appreciation and celebratory awe of
what the neighbor has accomplished with nature’s help. I
think that a bit of irony could slip in here since the
cucumber is one of the easier vegetables to grow.
There’s a
real life lesson here. We are better off not making
comparisons that discourage us or turn us into bitter
people. It is healthier to harbor an attitude of seeing
other people’s accomplishments as something for us to enjoy
and praise. We do not need to imitate but rather forge our
own way recognizing what we have already accomplished. We
may still have our goals and objectives and may see that we
have not reached them, but our attitude will remain positive
and have the potential of growth. Others have their talents
which we can enjoy and we have ours to develop.
Satisfaction and pleasure can result from the process rather
than from a final result. No end is desirable when a better
life is promising.
***
I assume
that you can reread the haiku series and find some haiku
that say much more to you than to me. This might be one
example especially if you visited Paris.
