Showing posts with label nature. Show all posts
Showing posts with label nature. Show all posts

Monday, 3 January 2011

Welcome to our new Monday feature - One Stop Poetry Form - today we look at haiku


Welcome to a New Year and a new feature for One Stop Poetry. On One Stop Form we seek to introduce you to the elements of poetic form. There are many styles that fit into form; style being like an individual signature. The form is the structure preceding the style. We all have our favorite form which we often adopt because it is what we feel comfortable with. We would love to encourage you to explore different poetry forms over the weeks and months to come. We will spend the first "session" describing the poetic form and the second week will be a time for the individual poet to do exercises with the form. Please have fun as we learn together!

For the next two Mondays we will explore Haiku



toshi kurenu / kasa kite waraji / hakinagara

another year is gone / a traveler's shade on my head, / straw sandals at my feet      Basho (master of brief and clear haiku 1685)

When I was taught haiku, I was daunted by the structure and so I did the art-work for all my friends who wrote haiku.  Haiku in the "contemporary" form is not relegated to the same rules as the original haiku. For some as long as they keep the 5/7/5 syllable format it's considered haiku. That’s how I write mine. I just write them for fun which is what a good friend, who I consider an expert, says to do “have fun with haiku."  ~MDW


How To Write Haiku 

The haiku is a very simple form of writing. So think many poets exposed to this verse for the first time. The more perceptive of them soon realise that it can in reality be rather difficult. A casual glance at magazines or web pages will often show a wealth of examples, good, bad and indifferent. On asking further, the poet usually gets told that haiku are traditionally written in three lines of 5-7-5 syllables. They may also be told that all haiku include a "season word" (kigo) to indicate the time of year to which the haiku relates. For a beginning this might do.

The haiku originates from Japan. Before haiku there was renga, a regal and highly-regulated form of verse with Chinese antecedents. In the 17th century modern haiku was born in Japan. It arose, not so much from a need to write poetry as to express the feelings of Zen. Enough of history for now.

The haiku in English, or, indeed, any other "Western" language, can only go so far in reflecting or emulating the Japanese haiku and individual writers must choose for themselves how closely they adhere to the rules informally gathered by exponents of the genre. So what are some of these rules to which we should adhere or ignore at our peril? For the beginner, it is probably best, at first, to stick to the 17-syllable rule. In general an English syllable is much longer than a Japanese syllable, and so, strictly speaking, 17 English syllables are too long for a Japanese haiku. For example, in Japanese, Tokyo is four syllables: To-o-kyo-o. For this reason, some authors consider the correct format to be 2-3-2 beats rather than 5-7-5 syllables.

But certainly
"The simple writing
of seventeen syllables
doth not haiku make"

[This poem entitled "Not a Haiku" by Gerald England is from "The Art of Haiku" (New Hope International, 1990)]

Those who have studied the form and become masters of it (haijin), will tell you that a haiku is essentially the distillation of a moment. Haiku are set in nature (in the widest possible sense) and they reflect the human response to nature. Often this is by the juxtaposition of images. Essential ingredients for haiku are simplicity of language, directness of communication, rhythm (but not rhyme) and the relative absence of the narrator. The trap into which poets new to haiku often fall is in using the techniques of other poetries inappropriately. Simile, alliteration, metaphor, rhyme, personification, intellectualization and other such devices have little place in haiku. Also, since haiku are meant to be complete in themselves, a title is generally considered an unnecessary addition.

The season can be represented by any of thousands of words. If you use your imagination you can come up with all sorts of ideas as to what season different words belong. Whole books called "saijiki" have been written describing and classifying things by their season.
A variant of haiku is the form often called "senryu." The senryu is similar in form to the haiku but concerns itself with the human condition rather than nature. Hence, they do not contain a "season-word" and are often either humorous or erotic.

To sum up: — a haiku should evoke the essentials of a keenly observed moment within nature; it should include a "season-word"; it should be written in three lines of either 5-7-5 syllables or 2-3-2 beats; it should avoid the use of traditional non-Japanese poetic devices. It should be untitled. You will discover many poems published under the title "haiku" that do not observe these rules — many will have a genuine haiku quality for reasons not fully discussed here, and be perfectly admissible as haiku. Others might well be mis-named as haiku — but be quite acceptable under the label of "short poem". The Haiku Society of America spent six years in committees trying to come up with a definition satisfactory for use by dictionaries. Even now they are not completely happy with it.

For many people, writing haiku, is not just another way to package content. It is a way of life; an open-ness to and one-ness

You can learn more about haiku by following some of the links on the Art of Haiku website. The site includes details about a mailing list where writers of haiku discuss all matters pertinent to haiku and related genres.

Thank you  Gerald England for this excellent overview of haiku.


THREE  HAIKU

early spring 
the sound of frogs
being frogs

winter night
the moon peeks through
a torn cloud

on his nose 
a koi balances
the moon




The three haiku are by Don Baird in the Journal of fine haiku Ambrosia 


Important elements in Haiku: 

KIGO:

This is the traditional requirement of referring to a season or New Years. But, it has been found through intense study by experts that many Masters including Matsuo Kinsaku (Basho) skipped the season reference from time to time. However, kigo adds a lot of character to the haiku and places the event in the time of year it happened. In Japanese a kigo will provide layers of cultural resonance to the haiku.

NATURE:

Haiku are, historically, about nature (though subjects have broadened a lot over the years). The poet sees something in nature.... and in the a moment of understanding, writes a haiku that reveals the image of that moment in clear and simple words. There are no words of padding; no convoluted wordiness. But rather, they were written with the fewest words possible ...... pristine.

KARUMI:

This is a Japanese principle expounded on by Basho that the haiku should have a light characteristic about it. Haiku are not dark. Basho once said "shallow river over a sandy bed"...... when describing the lightness of haiku.



Photography: courtesy of Creative Commons and Leslie Moon

If you would like to use one of the images to inspire you to write a haiku we would love for you to share with us by using Mr. Linky

Thursday, 4 November 2010

Welcome to Moondustwriter Thursday - Featuring Gay Cannon


I met Gay Cannon on Twitter where I have met many incredible writers who have become friends. I liken Twitter to a pub where someone walks in for the first time and doesn't know a soul; a person casually asks "what do you do?" - the next thing you know many of the people at the pub are talking about what they do, who they know, and suggest maybe "so and so" can help with the book or poetry site.
When I met Gay,we just eased into a conversation. She's like that. I never realized  how much we have in common. We obviously both share a love for the written word. She and I both went to University to study the Sciences. After two years, Gay was so in love with writing and literature that she became a Liberal Arts Major.Since then she has taught a class on just about everything.
Gay is quite the story teller. She has written a time travel novel; sadly it coincided with her husband's death. It seems that the novel is stuck on an old inaccessible disk (bet I could find someone on Twitter to help her with that disk.) Gay's husband was a talented man; one of his many accomplishments was being on the team at NASA that made the moon shots possible. Yes - I could go on about this multi-faceted woman.
What inspires Gay to write poetry?: The two subjects that carry her away into the poetry realm are nature and weather; her beloved Texas puts prose at the end of her pen. Gay has a way of making words do what she wants - a poetic magician of sorts. She has published much of her poetry in magazines over the years and hopes to compile all of her poetry into a book. 

I hope you enjoy Gay's poetry as much as I do.  



ENDANGERED

Gliding
Seagulls
Cry
In response to each wave’s spray

Salt
Sea
Tears
For the whooping cranes
That fly from Aransas Pass.

New
Hazy
Night
Why must they leave?

The rhythmic water
Slaps the white sand,
Brown and green reeds
Join all nature to play this symphony.
Can it not preserve the ballet,

These shadowed cranes against
A bone-white porcelain moon?






SYLVANIA

There’s no one as old as we are, sir, or as young.
We ride horses in the forest and their manes stretch away
from us becoming like the trunks of trees.
My husband died and left me feeling not as old
as my grandchild’s birth.
I grab the mane and ride toward youth.

You had no markers in that wasteland to measure out your age.
I think you’re young, as young as when we mounted, sir,
but when I glimpse you now your face folds in against the bone
like knees upon the Cypress trees and still we ride
to a place we know where flowers once would open to the sun
and need no shade.

Then your pace was quicker, sir, and
your face a flower paled by moon.
We seek beginnings in autumn and ride
wild and unbridled now over burnished leaves.

We reach for life and find its span,
aging as the trees we’ve known.



NOCTURNE

I cannot find you in the summer’s leaves,
Or hear your music in the moontime’s song,
The shadow shapes become the faceless breeze.

Across a cubist’s landscape of elm trees,
On midnight’s wave, I hear the steeple’s gong,
I cannot find you in the summer’s leaves.

When emerald stars through satin dreams, increase
Their spell and thus my fantasy prolong,
The shadow shapes become the faceless breeze.

Of velvet indigos, the night then weaves
Its magic carpet that bears me along,
I cannot find you in the summer’s leaves.

In caravels I sail Aegean Seas
And touch the columns that I dance among,
The shadow shapes become the faceless breeze.

At last within my grasp No, it deceives
Me, and I reach to find the vision gone.
I cannot see you in the summer’s leaves,
The shadow shapes become the faceless breeze.

You can read more of Gay's fantastic work here
Tweet Gay when you get a chance @beachanny
Thanks so much Gay for sharing your beautiful poetry.

© Gay Reiser Cannon. All Rights Reserved
Photos courtesy of Flickr:
Dark Seascape: http://www.flickr.com/photos/wonderlane/3103381523/
Wild horses: http://www.flickr.com/photos/bouldair/4963835069/

Friday, 3 September 2010

Blooms Alone, Poem & Photo by Adam Dustus

Poem  & Photo by Adam Dustus

In the dogged final hours
Withering noon daylight
Parching coarse, unrelenting sun
Before a field of scorched rust grass
Considering done

*
Unmoved through life
Old terminal bud blooms alone
Time ticks open solitude
Emerging under grayscale
It's true colors shown
*
Pray tell, cannot help wondering
If everything revealed to thee
Smooth and sweet like history
What in fact would anyone see?
Beautiful flower or unwholesome weed?
Checking Saint Peter or nothing believed?
Myriad views, variance perceived
Boring hours awaiting eve...
Soon to grave and God with speed
*
Searching right answers
No judgment agreed
Scientists, theology
Myths of yore, Astrology
Feelings across Geography
From lateral roots
Graphs, Botany
Taps buried beneath while
Clotting nodes keep insisting
Under arms with human reach

 *
Perspectives for life emerge
Clusters lie, inner surge
Asking why?
This heat profound
Anchored roots, cutaneous ground
Dumb luck my wishing never found
  No thorny set this cyan crown
Like when a friend died
And I came around
Thoughts of you
When the snow falls down


****************
*I wrote the above poem in a park near my home—
The photo was taken along the side of a walkway.

The final image was created in Photoshop.


Friday, 20 August 2010

Guided Home, Poem & Photo by Adam Dustus

Hear the seen
Beyond accustomed background
In between recall noticing
Each day what's missing
Confounds constitution
*
Continuous distant bombarding
Drone breaks through space
Crest rage splashing
Spirit-starving, pulse reviving
Ear drums absorb ruffling calmly
Like seashells echo hinting wakes
*
Standing beacon tall off pebbled shore
Walk along the gorgeous lawn
Even hum your favorite song
Alive this loving joy to breathe

 *
Life wrecks fear
Will turns up cheer
Being subject, our element
Salt in skin and trails of tears
Guided home after many lost years

****************
*The above poem was written in Northport, Michigan—
home to the Grand Traverse Lighthouse.