Showing posts with label Wabi. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Wabi. Show all posts

Guest Editorial: Jerome Berglund

Jerome Berglund

Discontent: the icy beauty of poverty evinced through wabi

Setu Bilingual Journal’s Masters Series Part II

guest edited by Jerome Berglund

 (If you read background/context last month it is the same here, feel free to skip to introduction where new content begins!)

Disclaimer: this series has been curated by someone relatively new to the discipline of haikai, described by certain authorities as a ‘pretentious arsehole’ who ‘needs to read more’ theory, has incensed some for irresponsibly ‘throwing around Japanese terms’. While unrepentant, I highly encourage readers to seek out more qualified, accredited sources who have discussed these topics, ideas and concepts more knowledgeably in greater detail and depth across the vast body of criticism related to Asian poetics, much of which is available online, and more in print, through resources such as the Haiku Foundation, Graceguts, in essays and commentary about the pages of fine publications like Frogpond, Ribbons, Presence, Seashores, and Modern Haiku—not to mention the informative monthly mailings which represent one valuable benefit of membership (available domestically and internationally) to the Haiku Society of America. The perspectives and opinions, conclusions and assertions espoused herein are my own, just one enthusiastic novice haijin and aspiring scholar, admittedly possessing a limited exposure to the troves of classical verses out there, a fraction of which have made the journey to my own from their native language I am not fluent in. A grain of salt is recommended, nay always imperative.  

 

BACKGROUND/CONTEXT:

Digging Deeper and Extrapolating

It is a widely held belief that English language haikai, as it is commonly understood by the general public, and was first widely practiced in North America and elsewhere, has placed too much emphasis on the counting of syllables (conversely, widespread flagrant disregard for metric targets and parameter components in modern applications is a ‘whole ‘nother can of worms’ worth reconsidering elsewhere) and not enough time studying, understanding, employing key aesthetic, philosophic, thematic principles which in their native iterations have come to define and proved critical tenets to Japanese short form poetry foundations, from the antediluvian waka to our contemporary senryu and gendai experimentalism, tanshi. 

Just as without seasonality and some manner of cutting mechanism a poem cannot be considered to have met the optimal criteria for a haiku, a dearth of certain key ingredients in a piece’s spicing will weaken its impact and success exemplifying the rich and storied tradition, and hamper understood acceptance into specific archetypal frameworks.

Throughout the course of our first two showcases in Setu’s master series we will highlight some especially laudable voices and talents in the international ELH community whose oeuvres have demonstrated these aesthetics and techniques in edifying and instructive manners, including both highly experienced, renowned legends, as well as impressive emerging figures who excitingly have recently been making noteworthy waves splashing across the old pond.

To understand our first two topics wabi and sabi (often discussed together in concert as wabi-sabi, but worth thoughtfully examining and treating separately to better appreciate the nuances of each and distinguish between) it will be beneficial to consider the idea of dialectics and how they relate to binaries in kigo/kidai, tone, and setting of Eastern poems.

Hegel argues that tensions from opposing forces, constant tug of war between distant poles, are what keep different systems animated and help them persist and endure. In many senses this can explain haikai’s constant thriving and durability, evolving and changing shape almost cyclically across centuries and even over the course of single generations. You can readily discern these conflicting dualities across the landscape and history, and they are not dissimilar to some of the most famous ones outlined by anthropologists and theologians. 

Buffs in Olympian mythology may recall the commonly described Apollo-Dionysus dialectic. Intriguingly, that plays out not at all dissimilarly to one between the styles and techniques of Bash┼Н and Issa (serious-ribald), Shiki and Buson (concrete/experienced-abstract/imaginative), and between the modes of haiku and senryu, tanka and kyoka generally. And if we examine structures fastidiously it is not absurd to determine that the core seasons and underpinning aesthetics of Japanese poetry can each be correspondingly plotted, occupy a clear and specific, recognizable space along that same continuum.

The Japanese conceptualize five seasons in a year, and can also envision some subjects and settings to occupy a seasonless space. On an axis one may very reasonably determine Summer and Winter to reside furthest apart in this arrangement, I also find it useful to place the fifth season of new years and the no season category toward the less weighted, neutral center.

Summer           Spring              New Year Seasonless              Fall                  Winter

There are multiple techniques and aesthetics which through widespread practice have been carefully established if somewhat vaguely defined, that are considered integral to the art and philosophies of Eastern versification. These, one discovers, may be conceived to coincide fascinatingly and strikingly at times with analogous overarching seasons.

On the Spring/Summer side the approaches and feelings of karumi (lightness, levity) and shasei (sketches from life, the everyday prosaic) cotton quite marvelously to this framing. Passing the mysterious y├╗gen and dreaming room open-endedness in the center which might match with those other categories, we arrive at the opposite extreme where we will examine this month’s subject sabi (rusting) and its close comrade wabi (poverty), which align with intriguing clarity to autumn and winter, one may defend contending.

Like the four noble truths of Buddhism, a more conversant expert could – surely has – lecture for hours, spend ten pages defining each of these Japanese terms more expansively and correctly; I encourage you to seek out the Haiku Handbook by William J. Higginson and peruse a short, sweet glossary Jane Reichhold compiled if you have not yet had the enlightening opportunity to explore these concepts methodically…

The Masters of Wabi

 INTRODUCTION:

Last month we had great fun unpacking, considering, parsing through the many facets, components, and gradations of sabi as they commonly appear – often paralleling or amplifying Autumnal associations – in Japanese originating short form poetry, and here we are enthused to set our sights upon the frequently overlapping, interrelated aesthetic or technique of wabi. 

 

It behooves us to begin by citing a crucial caveat Jane Reichhold reminded Haiku Society of America readers in Frogpond over twenty years back, speaking of sabi but no less applicable to wabi: these expressions “[have] gotten so many meanings over the innumerable years [they have] been in Japan, and now that [they] come to the English language [are] undergoing even new mutations…the Japanese have maintained for centuries that no one can really, truly comprehend what sabi is and thus, they change its definition according to their moods.”


The seasonality so core to haikai philosophy in many senses can be interpreted as a reflection and concrete representation of the cyclical – in opposition to linear, beginning to end frameworks of western Abrahamic faiths – vision of eastern spiritual traditions rooted in continual sequences of life, death, rebirth. Within the dogma and practice of Zen Buddhism (Hinduism and Jainism, Norse legends arguably in different formulations too) is a process known as samsara in which the individual aspires to eventually transcend that ‘wheel’ of suffering through achieving moksha, a release of sorts not easily managed, requiring serious enlightenment, detachment from material concerns, and fulfilling of duties or dharma.


We previously plotted our seasons and their symbolic representations along dialectics or binaries, but it is just as easy and useful to observe how they equally match the intuitive, familiar depiction of a narrative plot arc, and in the horseshoe created by connecting front and back (or sin waves if one prefers to envision that way) may be perceived as a never-ending loop, matching the eternal orbits our moon circles us with, we in turn make on this blue dot revolving predictably, across an ever expanding universe, in perpetuity around the sun.   

 

These abstract concepts can be instrumental towards understanding wabi and differentiating it from, appreciating where a line may be drawn, it shall be detected diverging perceptibly from sabi in different instances, as we will witness shortly throughout a stunning array of poems from an impressive collection including many of the international writing community’s most capable contemporary publishing haiku and senryu poets.  


In his seminal Haiku Handbook, William J. Higginson defines and translates wabi and sabi both as ‘loneliness’, but as distinctive aspects of it, the latter as ‘patina…beauty with a sense of loneliness in time’, wabi as ‘poverty…beauty with a sense of asceticism; austere beauty’, which Reichhold clarifies as the appeal and attraction resulting from ‘living simply’. 

  

And indeed, one will have no difficulty grasping how ubiquitous and relatable both these feelings and realities are for us all, particularly to the traditionally destitute, nomadic haijin of antiquity, traveling on foot through harsh weather, battling elements and struggling constantly to survive yet still stubbornly clinging to the glories of their journeys, and comprehending the superiorities by specific metrics of modesty, liberty, independence, freedom such untethered lifestyles permit when various commitments and responsibilities are yielded in pursuit of other priorities. From a wandering r┼Нnin to the American hobo, there is certainly romance in the mythology and ideal of these Romany existences, if there is also great anguish and sorrow invariable from insecurities and lack of sustaining resources, opportunity and capabilities.   

 

Returning to kigo and kidai, and why winter and fall often best approximate the aesthetics of poverty and rusting, it can be instructive to discern sabi in the crumbling, breakdown and fragmentation, whereas wabi follows in close succession at that terminus where nothing remains to surrender. Sabi is the gradual losing, wabi that consequential absence resulting. Sabi is the deathbed or killing field, wabi the empty chairs and tables left behind. Via the most recognizable iconography of these arts, sabi may best be distinguished in the cherry petals falling, wabi the world which succeeds them; sabi one finds in the withering of Bash┼Н’s Fall tree branch, wabi that crow roosting upon it, and evening setting in as light dims transforming the scene to pitch blackness. In the aggregating composite dialogues juxtaposition, toriawase, cutting create in haiku, senryu, tanka conversations, there is similarly a reciprocal and cooperative relationship between these partners in space and time, for there shall not be wabi without sabi ushering it in and vice versa.  But in the progression, just as good cannot be demarcated from a vacuum, exists in many ways necessarily through its contrast with evils, emptiness and dearth, scarcity and humbleness will only be appraised in comparison to summer and prosperity, their cornucopias of activity and Epicurean voluptuousness! Without further ado, let us examine how these undercurrents naturally inform and shape exquisite verses by some of the most gifted English Language Haikuists of our day…

Jerome Berglund has published book reviews and essays on poetry and poetics in Fireflies’ Light, Frogpond, Haiku Canada, Hooghly Review, the Mamba, North of Oxford, Setu, Valley Voices, also frequently exhibits poetry, short stories, plays, and fine art photography in print magazines, online journals, and anthologies.

Masters Series Part II: Wabi


Chen-ou Liu (Masters of Wabi)

Masters of Wabi



snow light
in her hospice room
stillness

Chen-ou Liu

 

eviction notice…
roof icicles
dripping moonlight

Chen-ou Liu

Chen-ou Liu, born in Taipei, Taiwan, was a college teacher, essayist, editor, and two-time winner of the national Best Book Review Radio Program Award. In 2002, he emigrated to Canada and settled in Ajax, a suburb of Toronto. Featured in New Resonance 7: Emerging Voices in English-Language Haiku, and listed as one of the top ten haiku poets for 2011(Simply Haiku, 9:3,4, Autumn/Winter 2011), Chen-ou Liu is the author of five books, including Following the Moon to the Maple Land (First Prize, 2011 Haiku Pix Chapbook Contest) and A Life in Transition and Translation (Honorable Mention, 2014 Turtle Light Press Biennial Haiku Chapbook Contest). His tanka and haiku have been honored with 147 awards, including First Prize Co-Winner, 7th and 8th International Tanka Festival Competition, 2012; Tanka First and Third Places, 2011 San Francisco International Competition; Grand Prix, 2010 Klostar Ivanic Haiku Contest and First Prize Co-Winner, 2010 Haiku International Association Haiku Contest.

 

Commentary

 

Matsuo Bash┼Н once noted that “with every pilgrimage one encounters the temporality of life.” Across a prolific and acclaimed publishing career Chen-ou Liu has displayed time and time again a phenomenal command of rhythm and motion in his stunning poetry, adopting stimulating indicators to signal landmarks and topography across that terrain, the tool of wabi being one vital resource toward conveying visceral aims. There is little to no movement in a vacuum, on a sickbed, across a desolate winter landscape or quiet night, save perhaps the slightest trickling, reminiscent of grains falling through an hourglass. These pieces spectacularly reveal the duo and tag-team this style can make paired with sabi to liken and contrast, implement setup and punchline, execute a boxing combination in a sense. The common theme of undesired departure, imposed hard deadlines, ties these pieces very fittingly together; while exploring different subjects and settings, in unison the reader almost gets the perception they form a sed┼Нka discussion of sorts, on the topic of fate and determinism, acceptance and the human condition.  In both pieces, white illumination, whether lunar or reflecting from blankets of snow, akin to a blank page or liquid correction fluid (and also the weather pattern where snow renders visibility nil), magnifies the wabi, in resonance with the care facility’s character, foreshadowing the tenant’s projected vacating. The reader in both circumstances may be reminded of the familiar transitional marvels reported by many anecdotal sources, where persons who’ve undergone near death experiences described moving towards a light. The paucity angle of wabi is present in each stanza too, both with the sparse institutional setting and lifeless winter diorama – an unshaken snow globe settling – and also about the privation associated with persons in assisted living receiving end-of-life care – who, in my nation, need to spend down to next to nothing to qualify for tax-funded services, and anywhere presumably will be in unique stages enacting potlatches of sorts, winnowing down earthly possessions, distributing assets and property – and just as much those unfortunate victims of economic insecurity and tyrannous feudalism. Liu denotes the urgency and suspense of both these timers counting down, like basketball shot clocks, patient and icicles both incrementally attenuating, in the process crafting two of the most haunting short form poems in recent memory!


Kelly Moyer (Masters of Wabi)

Masters of Wabi



nightfall a dusting on the dreamthistle

Kelly Moyer

 

ghostly voices
peeling the pomegranate
for the pith

Kelly Moyer

Kelly Moyer is an award-winning poet and fiber artist, who pursues her muse through the cobbled streets of New Orleans’s French Quarter. When not writing, stitching or weaving, she is likely to be found wandering the mountains of North Carolina, where she resides with her partner and two philosopher kittens, Simone and Jean-Paul. Hushpuppy, her collection of short-form poetry, was recently released by Nun Prophet Press.

Commentary

 

Above the gates of Hell, it is asserted by Dante Alighieri one will find writ large, “Abandon all hope, ye who enter.” From a Zen viewpoint, ending suffering is predicated upon relinquishing our desires. A prickly flora which still manages to flower, but whose durable armor protects it from consumption by foraging plant-eaters, the fluffy down of which attaches to seeds allowing their transportation through the wind, linking this species to dreams Kelly Moyer finds a riveting area to dissect through expressive poetry. The pomegranate too is ripe in layered associations, perhaps most notoriously traceable to the story of Persephone, abducted by Hades, whose consumption of this delectable fruit sealed her destiny of residing in the underworld, and her nuptial compact with its ruler. The seeds of this crop have since been coupled, in storytelling lore, with fertility—also featuring prominently into devotional artworks, set dressing oft noticeable accompanying the blessed Virgin and her immaculately conceived Child—the institution of marriage and its supposed indestructibility. Buddhism similarly reveres the pomegranate, and according to one parable Siddhartha utilized the fruit to assist a lady demon with overcoming her problematic propensities toward consuming youths. There are intriguing Judaic meanings encoded into a pomegranate’s alleged 613 seeds, each of which some believe represents one of the old testament’s 613 commandments or mitzvot.[1] A pomegranate’s pith, it should be specified, if bitter is edible as well, though the majority elect to discard it. In these two poems, proceeding from the sabi of day’s curtain falling and the unwrapping of skin, we arrive at wonderful places of wabi in the remaining dubious, possibly superfluous center, a lowly yet plucky weed shimmering in the darkness. These are wonderfully ambivalent, atmospheric operas Moyer has created, with disembodied choruses and backdrops which seem akin to Indo-European ‘thin places’ Alan Peat described so grippingly at Wales Haiku Journal. As reader, one ultimately is inclined to applaud the resolute vegetation which defends its aspirations, flourishes and proliferates through the air magnificently, similarly to respect the hero for concentrating beyond the cosmetic artifice, searching for deeper meanings even if they prove less sweet or palatable. In a seasonal sense there is also an enchanting continuity in the cyclical composition of these pieces, which picture darkness and emptiness yet anticipate an eventual Spring of rebirth and abundance, as the phoenix arises from its ashes and Demeter’s daughter in time returns to her and the surface, and makes a habit of it for portions of each year!


[1] See ‘Why the pomegranate’ by Patricia Langley at https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC1118911/


Aaron Bowker (Masters of Wabi)

Masters of Wabi



icy breath
line forms outside the
city mission

Aaron Bowker

 

abandoned house
moonlight shines through
ice covered windows

Aaron Bowker

Aaron Bowker, based in the United States, is a super self-critical Virgo, walking a path between worlds while dabbling in art, photography, and poetry. Poems and art have been featured in Failed Haiku, Cold Moon Journal, The Wombwell Rainbow, Heterodox Haiku Journal, The Hooghly Review, The Wombwell Rainbow, Medusa’s Kitchen and Black & White Haifa/Haisha. He especially thanks Jerome Berglund for being his mentor and pushing him to limits otherwise unexplored.

 

Commentary

 

Buson purportedly maintained (as related by Sawa Yuki in Kyoto) that “the essence of haikai is to use ordinary words and yet to become separate from the ordinary”, which he was of the option might be abetted through the inspection, probing and appreciation of Chinese poetic precepts. Like that iconic maestro Aaron Bowker is also no less capable with ink and papyrus (or lens and viewfinder) of sketching representations of moments and their emotional temperament in wholly visual terms as he is rendering incidents with semiotic verbiage. Just so do the poems of this haikuist possess a distinctively artistic character, demonstrating a sharp eye and a studied sense of balance, proportion, symmetry, and their obligatory subversion in order to achieve the ends of disseminating wabi in sleek packages like his two tempestuous verses contributed magnanimously to this investigation. These works splendidly highlight the symbiosis of wabi-sabi which can be achieved through collusion, very effectually too across that coldest season, and with extra credit merited for simultaneously channeling both the rhetorical and the practical senses of poorness in highly refined, timeless writing which could be situated in any time or place beyond the equatorial regions, wherever homesteads are lost or abandoned, and the underprivileged, lowborn seek aid and succor en masse. The creeping cold, materialized through breath made visible, encasing portholes and obscuring vistas not unlike the verdigris from which its name is derived, similarly evoke sabi, as does the time-honored motif of beggars amassing, reminiscent of soup kitchens of the great depressions, our modern day tent cities, and the patronage and charity which are particularly invaluable in a nation where outdoor blankets and pillows are criminalized, churches are prosecuted for putting up homeless during brutal winter nights. America being the worst country in terms of paid vacation entitlement, public programs and healthcare, hours and satisfaction of employment, with Japan ranking close second, it’s not difficult to understand the commonality between our Dharma Bums and their wandering swordsmen of old, the American nightmare with its workaholic gig economy and that driven culture of kar├╢shi (‘overwork death’) and seppuku (‘cutting the stomach’). Bowker is a stirringly skilled emerging voice in the ELH field I can’t recommend enough that arbiters pay attention to, and these odes would make excellent addendums for a dictionary entry on the technique of wabi worth immortalizing for posterity!


C.X. Turner (Masters of Wabi)

Masters of Wabi



this December
even the lanterns
seem duller

C.X. Turner

 

frozen shapes resignation in the river

C.X. Turner

C.X. Turner writes poems about dandelions, frozen fingers and frogs. She lives and works in the UK, and enjoys experimenting with Japanese short-forms. Her poems and artwork have been widely published in journals and anthologies. Several of her short-form poems have been Touchstone-nominated in 2023 including haiku, senryu and haibun. She is Co-Editor of the Wales Haiku Journal and loves working collaboratively with other poets and on solo projects. She is the author of climbing frozen water (Origami Poems Project, 2023), anemones (Yavanika Press, 2023) and Building Sandcastles, co-authored with James Welsh (Literary Revelations, 2023).

 

Commentary

 

C.X. Turner resides in those western midlands of the United Kingdom, a short distance away from the Welsh border beyond which electronically and ideologically resides that distinguished journal she co-edits with inimitable Joe Woodhouse. She hails from a dominion saturated with passionate versification, rhapsodically fertile terrain host to an amalgamated lineage boasting some of the most venerated poets (romantic, lyric, metaphysical, William Blake, John Keats, Dylan Thomas!) and wordsmiths of the English language, exalting among other things many of the lushest paragons of wabi to be ascertained on a printed page. These pieces expertly locate that distinctive bareness and shortage internally by way of the external, humanizing a body of water and torches, stationing themselves on a calendar at the height of frigidity—paralleled in the waterway’s disposition—and petrification, and also encapsulating the aspect of sabi described by Meng-hu of the hermitary as ‘universal flux’, spanning ‘coming from’ through ‘returning too’, well captured by the river to ocean relation, and December’s midwifing of a new year. Interestingly, as therapists move in constructive directions toward addressing cognitive distortions and thought fallacies rather than throwing pharmaceuticals at reported symptoms, wabi-sabi has become a significant notion in analytic contexts of current times, with shrewd counselors like licensed clinical social worker (also C.X.’s profession) John Mathews—see his Mindfulness article “The Simple Beauty of Serene Melancholy”—in Virginia availing himself of the model to facilitate comprehension of actualities and correction of limiting, toxic thought patterns manifesting perfectionism, dichotomous thinking, should statements, belief in a just world. Charlotte Digregorio, with her brilliant poetry collection ripples of air and guidebook Haiku and Senryu, makes convincing arguments for poetry’s practical advantage as a means for healing, to process life’s curveballs and upsets. Turner, too, is an exemplar in this potent application of the art form, in fact, and her fabulous recent chapbook anemones from Yavanika exploring matters of grief and loss is one of the most affecting compilations one may encounter, further representing a resounding testament to the palliative benefits of writing, for the general public just as much as dedicated practitioners!


Mark Gilbert (Masters of Wabi)

Masters of Wabi



empty basketball court fading light


Mark Gilbert

 

muscle memory
desiccated dormouse
in the act of prayer

Mark Gilbert

Mark Gilbert writes short poetry and prose. His work has recently appeared in the journals haikuNetra, Five Fleas, Folk ku and Under the Basho.

 

Commentary

 

In his groundbreaking Essential Haiku, Robert Hass describes the Katsushika school of which Kobayashi Issa was a member and the work in the Chikua group he donated, which habitually often concentrated on animals and exploited “vernacular language…as well as local slang”. The titan categorized their unique fashion as “countrified haikai”, and over the course of his celebrated lifetime would continue to stipulate especial interest in empathizing with plights of the disadvantaged, both in the hoi polloi everyperson and their nature equivalents, directly and as delineative proxies. Contrariwise, Issa’s unparalleled cognizance and scathing critiques were reserved and frequently marshalled to chastise his era’s power structures and their literary status quo, such as the coercive impact capital had on material’s construction and ratification—including famously lampooning the compromise of generating apolitical verses about generic, precious nature content (e.g. specifically ‘new snow’) as contest entries for the pleasure of affluent patrons, something Cup of Tea proclaimed should not be mistaken for high Art—when talents and platforms could be better engaged toward informing of social and economic needs or deficiencies, promoting compassion and fraternity, endorsing peace and mutual aid. These ethical intentions and prerogatives are conceivably most powerfully couched in the language and pictorial shorthand of wabi, and Mark Gilbert in his pieces above supports similar objects with that efficacious methodology. Where short for poetry confronts our planet’s ills on scales small and large, through platforms like Suspect Device Zine and Failed Haiku, this poet has proven himself to be one of the most incisive English voices in analysis and appraisal regarding the foibles of humanity. Most familiarly associated with senryu, these vivid haiku corroborate their equal capability, vindicate that vibrant, strictly concrete and nature-centric subject matter may likewise transmit implications of significant consequence, even do so more effectively by not interjecting value judgments and allowing the recipient to form their own suppositions. A picture has been priced at corresponding to a thousand words of influence, and the wabi in Gilbert’s deserted arena and forsaken earthly vessel, the sabi of flesh decomposing and light draining, speak weighty volumes in terms both existential and tangible. The obligation of competition (and alternative collective teamwork), birth lotteries and the lifespan’s vain aerobic exercises, Sisyphean racing back and forth over narrowly confined spaces—as Noam Chomsky notoriously pronounced, “strictly limit[ing] the spectrum of acceptable opinion, but allow[ing] very lively debate within that spectrum”— Sammy Glick lacing up his running shoes… And that deceased rodent, whether in the sticks or a great metropolis a hunted, scavenging, endangered creature, who yet through faith or routine hopes for the best—opportunity, perhaps that rags to riches upward mobility and bootstraps climbing the West deceitfully promises—entreats higher powers out of habit or lack of expedient options, whose demise is unspecified, could as likely have starved or been surprised by a trap… There is so much of interest to be garnered from these pieces when translated via an accommodating cryptograph. Mark truly presents a micro case study and master class here on how wabi can represent a decisive utensil in the activist poet’s arsenal!


J. D. Nelson (Masters of Wabi)

Masters of Wabi



starry sky tonight
after graupel earlier…
smell of dryer sheets

J. D. Nelson

 

snow on the couch on the front lawn

J. D. Nelson

J. D. Nelson’s haiku have appeared in many publications, including tinywords, Presence, Bones, Asahi Haikuist Network, Scarlet Dragonfly Journal, Cold Moon Journal, the zen space, Haiku Corner, Heterodox Haiku Journal, and Shadow Pond Journal. One of his haiku was selected for the Best of 2014 collection in the Haiku in English section of Mainichi Daily News (Now The Mainichi). Two of his haiku have been nominated for The Haiku Foundation’s Touchstone Award for Individual Poems. His first full-length collection of poetry is in ghostly onehead (Post-Asemic Press, 2022). Visit MadVerse.com for more information and links to his published work. His haiku blog is at JDNelson.net. Nelson lives in Boulder, Colorado, USA.

 

Commentary

 

One of the most productive and widely published poets of our age, most well known for his experimental work in the spheres of dada and surrealism—overlapping with short forms at cutting edge gendai and tanshi markets like Bamboo Hut, Bones, dadakuku, Ubu—with over a decade (indeed, he appeared in the annual best of Mainichi almost exactly ten years ago today, besides avant-garde proficiency at freeform, ‘jiyuritsu’ patterns is also an enthusiastic adept and proponent of classical approaches to haikai prized by places like Japan Society, and 17 syllable fixed form ‘teikei’ structure rigorously championed, presented in venues such as Haiku Avenue) of meaningful practice under his belt, J. D. Nelson has also established himself as a force of nature, ecological and human, in evidencing the observances of wabi. These two pieces, the first formulated with line breaks (and ellipsis) explicitly corresponding to where a kire or cut occurs most predominantly in prototypical haiku, the second of the monoku mode matching how Japanese poetry was originally delivered in an unbroken vertical line with punctuation relayed via 18 intermediary suffixes or emphases counted as part of the phonetic ‘on’ units, superbly demonstrate how seasonality augments mood and ambiance, and wabi-sabi may heighten objective correlatives—espoused by T.S. Eliot, the New Critics as primary building blocks of lyrical systems—in Eastern poesy. With a refined vocabulary (and a descriptor in the first piece fit for the Modern Kigo Project, defined by NOAA as ‘soft, small pellets formed when supercooled water droplets freeze onto a snow crystal’) and admirable sensitivity, Nelson locates the melancholic beauty in sights, scents, and impressions, subtly communicates an acute sense of gratitude for shelter and warmth against the menace of inclement weather and pecuniary vulnerability, in our predatory and unpredictable civilization. The opaque abyss of outer space, in relation to those widely dispersed heavenly bodies which accent it, makes for a stellar example of wabi’s concrete portents. Laundering garments, taking the air (commemorated by ‘weathered skeletons’ carrying ‘travel-worn satchels’) , disposing of rubbish, worn and tattered furniture: all these rudiments, too, well enunciate the spartan humility, eremite genuineness which make up a central quality to the foundations of Chinese and Japanese literary and artistic procedure.


Hege A. Jakobsen Lepri (Masters of Wabi)

Masters of Wabi



two dollar bills
the beggar adjusts
his hat

HEGE A. JAKOBSEN LEPRI

 

no distinction
between rich and poor
alley cats

HEGE A. JAKOBSEN LEPRI

Hege A. Jakobsen Lepri is a Norwegian-Canadian translator and  writer. Primarily a fiction writer, her  haiku and senryu have appeared in Frogpond Journal, Under the Basho, Hedgerow, Best Haiku Anthology, Poetry Pea, Haiku Blossoms, http://Quatrain.Fish, Autumn Moon, Prune Juice, Songs of the Pandemic, Haiku Journal, Dadakuku and elsewhere.

 

Commentary

 

An article in Simply Haiku by Meng-hu, ‘Basho, Plodding in Saigyo’s Footsteps’, discusses the legendary poets’ striving toward ideals of wabi and sabi across their bodies of work and modus operandi, and expounds upon how the genre of nature imagery epitomizes the former technique’s emphasis upon ‘simplicity, authenticity, lack of contrivance’.  It is no coincidence those most revered forefathers of this practice over the generations have cultivated personas which strived to personify ‘the life of wabi’ (or, wabizumai), hermetic, monastic, ascetic existences which in form and action mirrored the clarity and austerity eastern aficionados and English pioneers like Jack Kerouac equally advocated for in optimal verse. Frill-lessness, maintaining lean language consistent, in synergy with lifestyles devoid of affectation, is also compatible with and echoes ideas of Scandinavian minimalism Western shoppers might associate with design thrusts exhibited across Ikea, the Marie Kondo method of decluttering to better focus on fewer components specifically determined to elicit joy, the Swedish concept of d├╢st├дdning, of ‘death cleaning’, ridding oneself of unnecessary hindrances in anticipation of impending finality. With her keen gift for observation and poignant phrasing Jakobsen Lepri seizes upon and potently deploys two of haikai’s most enduring figurative tropes to compelling effect in these resonant pieces, and sensationally captures, articulates the reasoning, quintessential crux of why mendicants and felines so perfectly exudes wabi in readers’ collective understandings. The picture of human resiliency and indomitableness in the face of destitution, the relative value to perceive in scanty currency by its very scarcity, the need for and potential transformative worth small acts of kindness and charity can achieve by any passerby on a given day, her first subtle poem contains galaxies waiting to be unlocked and examined by thoughtful scholars. Similarly, the idea of shared grief and tumult—in the case of strays across a leveled playing field—fostering fellowship and solidarity (say, in national crises, economic and environmental), and exposure, interaction between diverse subsets of ostensible classes and castes of various hierarchies—for example, in inclusive communal recreational spaces, sports, worship—when permitted, ideally encouraged can profoundly increase camaraderie, foster understanding, promote philosophies of unity and teamwork toward accomplishing shared objectives, in the interest of which division may often spell conquer. Similarly, the value of wabi comparatively, when evaluated, is well expressed by Yamamoto Tsunetomo, who posited in the Hagakure, ‘riches and honor...blemish a retainer...if one remains in strained circumstances he will not be marred.’ This egalitarian bent is also consistent with the proletarian, internationalist content of the contemporary New Rising Haiku movement in Japan, who denounced war and championed goodwill in a tumultuous period preceding that nation’s entrance into the second world war. It is very interesting that while neither of these pieces overtly specifies the time of year with season words or topics, one can without difficulty picture either leaning toward the winter term very plausibly, describing at risk populations out of doors at the mercy of various elements literal and politic. The dreaming room factor is also very absorbing to reflect upon: depending on where and when we envision these scenes, pertinent details drastically effect and alter the stakes and dramatic character of the spectacles unfolding; whether protagonists are located on a temperate California beach or the dead of Toronto winter, in a European nation with robust support netting in place for imperiled persons, or the unforgiving Darwinian travesties of the American and global souths, the prognosis for subjects can vary enormously. That open-endedness and ma further enhances the efficacy of these writings, and makes them linger in the audience’s mind, provoking deep and meaningful thought, which stay with us long after encountering, make for the most memorable vignettes!


John Wisdom (Masters of Wabi)

Masters of Wabi



noon sun
a dead catfish iridescent
in broken shells

JOHN WISDOM

 

long afternoon
barely a ripple
as a jellyfish turns

JOHN WISDOM

John Wisdom has been writing various forms of poetry since childhood. His grandmother received her Master’s in English, in about 1912, so writing was a given in his life. Here are a few samples of haiku, tanka, verse, and traditional poetry written over several decades. Many of the works have been recognized in contests, various haiku journals, such as Modern Haiku and The Heron’s Nest. There is no profit in poetry, so it is all about the joy of writing, and day to day life experiences.

 

Commentary

 

It is with astonishing awareness and keen instincts that John Wisdom situates his works elucidating the custom of wabi near or underwater, submerged or in close proximity to our proverbial drink, for all intents and purposes – where the ocean is concerned – in an arena which comes the closest to earthly embodiment of astrophysicists’ black holes, singularities from which light cannot emit or escape. Its borders, too, curiously resemble an event horizon of sorts, the passage over which – accompanied by intense pressure as depth increases – pulverize anything introduced not built for such exotic locales. This formless sea jelly, whose barely visible motions bring to mind both Freud’s theory of the unconscious and Hemingway’s iceberg slant for omitting, seems a perfect analog for wabi’s unassuming, without airs authenticity and candor. The whiskered carcass also imparts the personality of a piscine recluse, that wild card in the tarot deck, mountain cuckoos of the aquatic ranks with their famous stubbornness, curmudgeonly tenacity one may easily equate to the solitary hermits throughout history, strangely beautiful laid to rest, inadvertently cooking on a jagged divan. That view similarly suggests the beds of nails and hot coals navigated by performers, and more hazardously as tests of strength or piety which could prove fatal for those like French Crusader Peter Bartholomew who could not endure ordeals by fire.  The shells, once exited and discarded on the shore, become brilliant specimens of wabi in and of themselves too, no less the vacant corpse, once all animation and essence has exited with its 21 grams of inscrutability. These set noteworthy precedents too in their chronologic whereabouts. While the inverse may also be no less valid, and wabi can without difficulty be swiftly located in the dark of a wintery night’s bleakness and obscurity, the agony of a sweltering peak, when the cool relief of twilight is furthest distant, those absolute polarities on either end (like climate devastation, exacerbating both extremes) where an operative portion is glaringly absent, find superb usage in this perceptive localization. The jellyfish, separate and disconnected from its observer, similarly echoes the aloofness associated with this sensibility; just as Thoreau had his cabin by the pond and Basho his hut with the banana tree, distance and solitude are by many deemed essential prerequisites for meditation and focus, by beliefs ancient and modern. And what of the gleam, from whence originates that sparkle in the sands?  Colorful scales, exposed bones bleached by punishing rays?  In each tableau Wisdom ingeniously lays out the wabi at both ends, in the murkiest depths to that blinding glint, from Hyperion’s beams to the gaping maw of Charybdis! These are verses of extraordinary dynamic range worth admiring…


C. Jean Downer (Masters of Wabi)

Masters of Wabi




leaf skeleton frozen in the dog bowl
no longer needed

C. JEAN DOWNER

 

cold moon she closes a date
on the quilt

C. JEAN DOWNER

C. Jean Downer attributes an abiding wealth of creativity to living in a temperate forest near the Pacific Ocean on the traditional, unceded, and shared territories of Coast Salish peoples. The English language haiku form is her favourite poetry to compose. Downer’s pieces have appeared in national and international print and online journals and anthologies. She is a member of Haiku Canada and the Haiku Society of America.

Commentary

 

Bash┼Н once advised that “haikai...needs more homely images”, and warned poets to preference “vegetable soup rather than duck stew”. Isolation and longing are two words also often associated with the praxis of wabi, which according to Mahayana Buddhism are in reality ameliorative traits for an initiate, connoting emancipation from the material realm and an elevating into purer ways of being. [1] These two superlative poems by C. Jean Downer satisfy the godfather’sprovisosryge or wexacerbating paean Downeralityiated with theebirth andning ard it.sow, akin to a blank page or wexacerbating pa provisos and embody our germane aesthetic in telling ways which deserve careful scrutinizing. Applying an expression for the first full moon of winter, appropriated from early aboriginal peoples of the Mohawk tribe, from the get-go we find a kigo steeped in history and misfortune, primeval and woebegone. The stuck leaf, stripped bare in a dish, by its rough and abnormal character, makes a very wabi phrase indeed, and the rustic, frugal expertise of sewing is acutely relevant toward the folksy side of the sentiment. In case you were not aware, alongside her stunning haiku and senryu this poet is also an author to thrilling mystery novels, including the recently debuted “Lies are Forever”. Her short form works are no less enigmatic, obeying the progenitor’s eminent sage insight, which Kenneth Yasuda translates as: “The haiku that reveals seventy to eighty percent of its subject is good. Those that reveal fifty to sixty percent we never tire of.” Each of these pieces presents an entrancing riddle in its icy mystery and wabi undertones… We must ask ourselves, who or what is no longer needed in the first poem? The leaf? The dog bowl? The narrator? All of the above? Similarly, one puzzles over the significance of the date’s closure on a quilt, in agreement with a chilly lunar image… There are many reasons the creator may doubly so inscribe their work, to specify its beginning and ending, to chronicle marriage and divorce, to mark births and deaths. Whatever way the architect of these dazzling poems intended to answer those questions, or viewers decide to decipher them, there is a distinct ominousness infused which capitalizes upon the abstruseness, and weaves moonlight into gold quite didactically through the medium of wabi!



[1] See “Wabi-Sabi ~ The Color of the Poem“ at Haiku of the Forest.


Mike Rehling (Masters of Wabi)

Masters of Wabi




wabi sabi
comes naturally to me
crows feet

MIKE REHLING

 

a metaphor
for my life
gluing the broken bowl

MIKE REHLING

Mike Rehling is a quiet vegan haiku poet living in the north woods of Michigan with his wife and cat.

 

Commentary

 

Impermanence is a fundamental feature of the Buddhist worldview, encompassing truths which may be noticed coursing in various ways throughout our daily lives. In Japanese inspired micropoetry and related prosimetric forms (I hope you’ve read his incredible collections of haibun, tercets and monostich, ‘running from yesterday‘ and ‘Living in Seventeen Syllables or Less‘, generously made available to download digitally at no cost) Michael Rehling is a recognizable giant in the spirit of senryu, and is esteemed for an overlapping penchant at wabi and sabi which so frequently galvanize its permutations, induce wry smirks in the hilarious and tug heartstrings of pathos about more somber explorations of human nature, trials and tribulation. In conventional haiku, too, these paradigms and tenors (from which, it is believed by many, that karumi or lightness – where present – emerges as a higher form of, almost paradoxically) are also key drivers for shaping reception, defining feelings and evoking responses, whether laughter or weeping, and indeed sometimes in the tragicomic jesting of gallows, deathbeds, battlefields, they are not necessarily mutually exclusive. These two poems by Rehling are wonderful examples of that liminal region of ambiguity and complexity too, where the readers’ completion of the piece in their minds presents captivating flexibility for coloration and determining tone, intent. Does rust and emptiness come naturally to Rehling personally (the fragment is even more provocative, in that it could as feasibly describe one or numerous actual carrion birds’ fulcrum/s) or is that an unavoidable, pivotal characteristic of each mortal’s finite odyssey? Are the wrinkles around our eyes, like smile lines, testaments to wisdom gleaned, remembrances of joyful, busy years of accomplishments, or grim telltale emblems of destruction’s inexorable approach, harbingers of a conclusion as inescapable as taxation? Similarly, the relatable shattered bowl brusquely repaired, functional if not superficially optimum (invariably conjuring thoughts, for many acquainted, about the fine art of kintsugi, that storied golden joinery which holds fascinating metaphoric significance, though the poet chooses a more realistic, humble cousin in our era’s reliable, more banal and commonplace adhesive patching material, derived from over the hill, knackered horses), can be interpreted either direction, may imply the celebratory or regretful, or both simultaneously at once. That he leaves takeaways and conclusions unsaid, ‘shows’ rather than tells us how he feels or we should, makes these terrific examples of Eastern poetry, and Western literature, of the highest order. The negative space in cracks, creases or crevices, that void a container houses, in anticipation of waiting to get filled or after being used to serve soup or salad, are both remarkable models of the hollow, barren aspect of wabi. A modest, stoic elder, reusing, economizing, exercising thrift is also appropriate for illustrating the plebian, unostentatious facets of this tenet.