 |
| Buddha the Winner, Nicholas Roerich, Wikimedia Commons |
all the way
to the heart
of this labyrinth
my companion
a sweat bee
•
chill wind
through the ribs
of Picasso’s horse
my faith
she will show up
•
drying off
after my shower
the old chihuahua
gets a few
licks in
•
grandpa’s cactus
re-rooted after rolling
down the hill
it only looks
dead
•
heaven on earth
she rubs
both shoulders
smoothing my wings
back down
Buddha-full
little Buddha stinks
his turn to change
the diaper
my wife’s swollen
pregnant breasts
so Buddhaful
a laughing Buddha?
her track team friends
like me
a couple of Buddhas
cross-legged in the woods
a girl with child
soft peach
a little Buddha worm
at home inside
a Buddha
emerges from the deep
and spouts off
baby Buddha
asleep at last
curled up on my lap
patio dance
he rests in the daffodils
a stone Buddha
the Buddha sings
ku-ku ka-chu
I am the walrus
finally
all the kids asleep
Buddha in the top bunk
***
seven pentacles . . .
awaiting
the perfect wave
***
The Transactional Gift of Haiku: The Collaborative Art of Being Alive
As a writer, editor,
scholar and publisher of haiku since 1976, I have been an active member of the
haiku community for several decades. Throughout these years, I have never
ceased to be amazed by the blessings of this literary tradition.
First, and foremost, there
is the gift each haiku offers if you give it a full imagined reading—if you let
yourself enter into its space of perceptions—if you are open to its insight and
feel the emotional significance of its moment—if you let it touch your own life, memories and associations—if you let it come alive and if you let yourself come
alive while holding it in your heart and mind for a moment.
spring breeze—
the pull of her hand
as we near the pet store
Michael Dylan Welch, The Haiku Anthology, 270
Second, as you read more
haiku and improve at the art of reading haiku, you become more aware of your
inner and outer surroundings. You start noticing feelings and things that you
missed before. You stop to fully feel and perceive the moments you are living.
You also notice the difference one word makes and the importance of the things
unsaid in the silent pause common within most haiku.
The sun coming up
five eggs
in the iron skillet
- James Tipton
As some of my students say,
when you immerse yourself in this tradition, you get your “haiku eyes” and
begin seeing and feeling things you missed before. You become more fully aware
of the value of being alive, and, being a human, you get the urge to record
those moments of perception and insight as new haiku.
Third, the haiku tradition
is very social—it is inevitable that when a haiku touches us, we want to share
our response with others, and when we write a haiku, a moment of significant
perception, we are eager to offer the gift of that haiku to others for their
enjoyment and response. When groups of people share their lives and insights
through this way, they are drawn together into a community that values the art
of reading and writing haiku.
Graduation day—
my son & I side by side
knotting our ties
Lee Gurga, Fresh Scent, 110
Although students who study
the art of reading and writing haiku will learn to be more concise, and they
will learn about the power of images in their writing, the main value of haiku
is learning that all art, including literary art, is a transactional, co-creator
process. The writer starts something that the readers finish. The question is
NOT what is haiku? The question is what haiku does for the readers and how we
can play with the haiku tradition as writers. The question is how this art
engages writers and readers into a collaboration of finding significance in our
art and even more so, in our lives.
One of the Japanese
traditions I have adopted for teaching haiku is the distinction between editing
workshops versus the celebratory enjoyment of discovering excellent new works
to be admired. The Japanese usually have small groups of haiku friends who
engage in editing sessions with each other, but when there are more public,
social gatherings, they engage in kukai.
In traditional kukai, original haiku
are submitted to the organizer who selects the best attempts for inclusion in
the competition. These are placed on a page with no names, then read and
enjoyed by everyone at the gathering. Each person selects a few favorites.
Favorite haiku are noted and read out loud, then everyone can talk about what
they love about that haiku. Kukai is
not an editing session, so edit suggestions or comments about why someone does
not like a haiku are not allowed. The point of kukai is to find haiku that are loved. The Japanese say that when
the haiku finds a reader who loves it, that is the moment it is born. And after
everyone has talked about why they like that haiku, a vote is taken to
determine how many chose that haiku as a favorite. After the haiku is born, and
only then, do we ask who wrote the haiku. When the newborn haiku is claimed by
its author, there is applause (or snapping of fingers or tapping of pencils) to
thank the writer for their gift. Then the group looks for another haiku waiting
to be born. Authors of favorite haiku with the most votes receive awards of
haiku books or magazines. Through kukai,
you can experience the social nature of haiku.
The significance or meaning
exists not within the poem, but within those who take it to heart and imagine
it and connect it to their own memories, associations, and feelings of being
alive.
Dr. Randy Brooks is Professor of English Emeritus at Millikin University in Decatur, Illinois, where he teaches courses on haiku and Japanese poetics. He and his wife, Shirley Brooks, are publishers of Brooks Books and co-editors of Mayfly haiku magazine. His most recent books include Walking the Fence: Selected Tanka and The Art of Reading and Writing Haiku: A Reader Response Approach.
No comments:
Post a Comment