For someone who claims to not write haiku well, you’ve struck gold with these three.
Absolutely beautiful.
I love the way you stack three images in the second one and describe heat/drought without one mention of either.
And the first one stands alone as a very strong garden poem, also describing drought and extreme heat so well, but coupled with your prose, it could easily be read as metaphor for your sick father: the broccoli his lungs, the illness buzzing around inside them, the flesh the soil gasping for air, etc.
More than that, though, all three of these poems have so much feeling in them.
Someone said to me recently that he thought of haiku as a call without a response. That made me think of the myth of Echo, which is such a heartbreaking myth. But it seems to capture the feelings that are often associated with haiku.
I was really nervous publishing these because I knew you'd critique them! I'm honoured you understand my intentions. I was pleased with where the exercise led me and glad I took on the challenge as they are quite a thing, aren't they? I like that - the call, the unanswered echo.
Thanks for understanding them. I was thinking of being true to the season as summer has truly begun, which in some ways is confounding as poetically, my father should be dying in winter, as the human cycle maps itself against the seasons.
Yet things wilt and die in the heat too, and it's stifling and poignant as much as the frozen branches are.
The one about the possums - Dad's notorious for getting a really long stick and poking them out of trees, though we shout at him to leave them alone. He hates the destruction they cause. I was thinking of the possums in peace once he goes, and me chasing the blackbirds (they disrupt the native birds, being an import) away from the birdbaths.
What did suprise me was when I read back over and the bird bath was half full, not empty. I had to change it to fit the sense of drought and impending death. But I did feel as if there was a little hope in my heart despite it all. Turns out the haiku reveals as much to the writer as they might to their audience. Huh.
Oh, no. Do I have a reputation that I don’t know about? Am I a feared, curmudgeonly writing critic?
I probably did say too much when I commented on one of your mushroom poems a few months back. My apologies. Occasionally I get excited and want to share my thoughts, but navigating the proper channels of constructive criticism/sharing opinions is tricky.
I really know very little about haiku and poetry in general. I would even go as far as to say that most of the time I don’t like reading poetry and haiku, and novels too.
Despite that, I’ve always wanted to write. And I think that’s just because every now and then, I read a poem or a book that lights me on fire, and then I want to try making something as incredible.
I feel like I learned something from your poems today that I’ll try to reproduce in some way in my own.
You’re right. You do learn about yourself by writing these tiny poems. I’m often surprised by what I find when I go back at the end of every week and look at the poems I’ve written. It’s amazing how far gone five, six, or seven days can feel.
It sounds like you are going to have a lot of things around your house and in nature to remind you of your dad after he passes away. Some days they will be very sad reminders, and some days they will be beautiful gifts.
Oh hahaha no, I love your criticism! I don't mean it in a negative sense + perhaps I should say commentary instead! You are one of the few that actually take the time to analyze and interpret which I LOVE. I was nervous because you know your stuff and I didn't want to appear a fraud or a terrible writer 😂 Yhw thought YOU have learnt something from MY poe.s is humblimg indeed.
The biggest reminder of Dad os the ocean really. I was talking to my best mate about it last week as her own Dad has dementia. Its our way of being close to them. But i do get a powerful sense of interconnectness to all that is in nature, and find it my greatest teacher, comfort amd joy. And Ill never forget how he would gush about the beauty of nature when he had been in a moment out there in it. That infectiousness sticka.
Between the ocean, the possums, the garden, and his favorite music, he’ll always be with you.
Changing the topic, there’s a town in Northern California called Ukiah, a Native American name that coincidentally spells haiku backwards.
Apparently they have a big haiku festival ever year, and they accept submissions from all age levels, so I thought that you and some of your students might be interested in it.
https://ukiahaiku.org/?fbclid=PAAab26XD9fqvBUtkciI9R6dLeVDwhi_wfNLO-lT7qJOY61O3LdESZ29Rbprk_aem_Af91G0joTJ1ji-JUJdHYG6zOoOOOZHAElZC31mui_vqKPzeJmU0gnagmWL9cpmiDh78
I'm so sorry I missed this - and thanks for the link! And yes, there's a lot that will remind me of him! That's crazy about the town that's an anagram for Haiku - love it!