Carpe Diem Haiku Special – July 28, 2016

 

trees

Cypress trees

I’ve been off again and although the hotel advertised  wi-fi it wasn’t at all efficient!  Anyway, I’m back and I will try to make up for my absence!

I have Carpe Diem Haiku Kai as my opening page on my browser and so I was able to immediately see this lovely prompt dedicated to the renowned haiku poet and anthologist of women’s haiku Patricia Donegan.  Here are the two haiku that Chèvrefeuille used for the post:

As rain drops diminish
I hear the tapping
of the monk’s wooden bell.

Tonight
the cypress tree & I
lean into the wind.

© Patricia Donegan

As you know the purpose of the Carpe Diem Haiku Special is to fall into the spirit of the poet and their poetry and try to write in the same spirit as the author.  Here is my attempt:

under rain and wind
bending along the trail
the tree and the monk

© Gsk ’16

 

 

Morning Haiku and Waka – April 28, 2016

the lonely swan haiga

alone –
a swan swims into view
flowers blossom

§§§§

cold morning walk
north wind freezes the blossoms
snow dusts the mountains

§§§§§§

on this spring morning
looking at the snowy mount
and cherry blossoms
turning brittle on the trees
still – the birds huddle
no song fills the morning air
grey clouds hang heavy
and the northern winds whistle
ringing the wind chimes
making the trees bow low
and then for a moment –
a single ray of sunshine
escaped through the clouds
a single blackbird
began to sing his spring song
in the herb garden
a new sprout raises its head
there’s no denying
life’s warmth is a breath away
just waiting to be perceived.

§§§§

the stone wall
behind this screen holds up
my red clay tiled roof
and the nest of two sparrows
hear them twitter happily

© G.s.k. ‘16

The Cuckoo – Troiku – April 27, 2016

above the roof-tops
looking for a mate and host
the cuckoo calls

above the roof-tops
the cuckoo flies like a hawk
small birds hide

looking for a mate and host
thief and Romeo
cuckoo – cuckoo

the cuckoo calls
lazily from dawn to dusk
through spring and summer

© G.s.k. ‘16

Carpe Diem Theme Week 3: Magnolia Blossoms, haiku by Soseki Natsume: episode 7

classical kigo hototogisu (cuckoo)

kaero to naka zu ni warae hototogisu

home…
laugh, not cry
cuckoo

© Soseki Natsume

naku nara ba mangetsu ni nake hototogisu

if you want to sing
sing under the full moon
cuckoo

© Soseki Natsume

Common cuckoo

Morning Haiku and Waka – Using Karumi (Haiga) – April 27, 2016

Tourists and Locals Haiga

morning promenade
waddling off their breakfast
locals and tourists

© G.s.k. ‘16

Carpe Diem Tokubetsudesu #77 pickles (in the way of Basho) lost episode of March

Today Chèvrefeuille re-introduced the “karumi” writing technique.  Here’s what he has to say about it:

“Bashô developed this concept during his final travels in 1693. Karumi is perhaps one of the most important and least understood principles of haiku poetry. Karumi can best be described as “lightness,” or a sensation of spontaneity. In many ways, karumi is a principle rooted in the “spirit” of haiku, rather than a specific technique. Bashô taught his students to think of karumi as “looking at the bottom of a shallow stream”. When karumi is incorporated into haiku, there is often a sense of light humour or child-like wonderment at the cycles of the natural world. Many haiku using karumi are not fixed on external rules, but rather an unhindered expression of the poet’s thoughts or emotions. This does not mean that the poet forgets good structure; just that the rules of structure are used in a natural manner. In my opinion, karumi is “beyond” technique and comes when a poet has learned to internalize and use the principles of the art interchangeably.

In a way it brought me another idea. Traditionally, and especially in Edo Japan, women did not have the male privilege of expanding their horizons, so their truth or spirituality was often found in the mundane. Women tend to validate daily life and recognize that miracles exist within the mundane, which is the core of haiku.There were females who did compose haiku, which were called “kitchen-haiku” by literati, but these “kitchen-haiku” had all the simplicity and lightness of karumi … In a way Basho taught males to write like females, with more elegance and beauty, based on the mundane (simple) life of that time.

Shiba Sonome, a female haiku poet, learned about karumi from Basho: “Learn about a pine tree from a pine tree, and about a bamboo plant from a bamboo plant.”

The poet should detach the mind from his own self. Nevertheless, some people interpret the word ‘learn’ in their own ways and never really ‘learn’. ‘Learn’ means to enter into the object, perceive its delicate life, and feel its feeling, whereupon a poem forms itself. Even a poem that lucidly describes an object could not attain a true poetic sentiment unless it contains the feelings that spontaneously emerged out of the object. In such a poem the object and the poet’s self would remain forever separate, for it was composed by the poet’s personal self.

Basho also said, “In my view a good poem is one in which the form of the verse, and the joining of its two parts, seem light as a shallow river flowing over its sandy bed”.

That, then, is karumi: becoming as one with the object of your poem … experiencing what it means to be that object … feeling the life of the object … allowing the poem to flow from that feeling and that experience.”

Magnolia Blossoms – Haibun – April 18, 2016

Arco, the town I where I live in Trentino-Alto Adige, Italy was once, and not so long ago,  an Austrian health station.  The micro-climate, created by Lake Garda has made the area’s climate particularly mild and the “Ora” the daily wind that comes up off the lake in the summer clears away humidity and eventual pollutants.

Magnolia Lane runs between the back of the old Casino and the most important Sanatorium of the age (now converted into administrative buildings) leads to the centre of town and the central city park.  In spring when the magnolias bloom not only is it beautiful to walk down, with their large white flowers but the delicate perfume that fills the air is something close to divine.

in magnolia lane
the blossoms catch the rain
as blackbirds sing

© G.s.k. ‘16

 

Carpe Diem Theme Week 3: Magnolia Blossoms haiku by Soseki Natsume

(My haibun was written to honour Soseki Natsume, celebrated by Carpe Diem Haiku Kai yesterday.)

he sky I see
seems full of
magnolia blossoms

© Soseki Natsume

“Sōseki Natsume (February 9, 1867-December 9, 1916) was born Natsume Kinnosuke. He is widely known as the foremost Japanese novelist of the Meiji period. He was a scholar of British literature and a composer of haiku, Chinese-style poetry, and fairy tales. From 1984 to 2004, his portrait was featured on the Japanese 1000 yen note.
Natsume Kinnosuke was born in Babashita in the Edo region. He was adopted by a childless couple, but after their divorce, he was returned to his biological mother at age 9. However, his mother died only five years later.
While attending First Tokyo Middle School, he was enamored with Chinese literature. He went on to study architecture at Tokyo Imperial University.
In 1887, he met Masaoka Shiki who encouraged him to become a writer. From that point on, he chose the pen name Sōseki which means “stubborn” in Chinese. In 1893, he became a part-time teacher at the Tokyo Normal School while he studied as a graduate student.
Natsume began teaching at Matsuyama Middle School in 1895. During this time, he began publishing his haiku and Chinese poetry.
In 1900, he became the first Japanese English literary scholar and lived in poverty, loneliness, and mental problems while attempting to solidify his knowledge of English literature at the University College, London. After his return to Japan, he became a professor of English literature at Tokyo Imperial University.
He died of a stomach ulcer in 1916″

Sunday Whirl and NaPoWriMo – Haiku and Tanka – April 10, 2016

246

wintry last stands
where talk ends and hope is born
rain drips on blossoms

the river flows
tales under the surface
call to us
concentric circle shimmers
as a trout eat mosquitoes.

© G.s.k. ‘16

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NaPoWriMo: Day 10 – Smorgasbord Sunday