Friday, July 26, 2013

lake haiku ii

Is honesty the same as truth? This question came to me yesterday as I read Henry Miller's ranting essay "When I reach for my revolver" in which he lists the many ways he is disgusted by the American way of life. (This was 50-60 years ago, at the height of the cold war.)

I think that maybe honesty is the closest thing to truth that we get in this life.

In some subtle way, writing haiku this week (combined with the Miller readings, which are brutally honest) is making me look more honestly at myself and my world. Maybe haiku are essentially for the writer herself, even more intensely than other forms of poetry. They enunciate a moment she has experienced in the most condensed form. Can another person understand what is true in that moment? Yes, if he or she is also quickened by his or her own such moments.

*

blue damselfly long
aligned with the grain of wood
must not be a poet

*

silos on a hill,
tines of a jet trail, duets.
I am not alone


morning mist, kayak,
purple pickerelweed, sun,
drops from the paddle

*

blueberries in a
pancake, midnight planets and
no less mystery

*

kayak in mist, no
memory card in the camera,
clicking away with joy

*

linoleum blocks
uncle carved ­­— violin, birds,
a small dove, alive




11 comments:

  1. Haiku distill the essence of instants.
    Yours sparkle.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thank you, Elizabeth. Distill the essence . . . , yes.

      Delete
  2. I smile at the damselfly, sigh at the morning mist and now crave blueberries ;-)
    Yes.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thank you for connecting with these elements, DS.

      I eat the blueberries here from the local stand like candy.

      Delete
  3. Replies
    1. Thank you, Rosaria. I am loving this exercise.

      Delete
  4. i was wondering the other night about significance in the world and the importance (and unimportance) of the poet. while the poet is obviously important in the haiku, i think the poet's job is to be less important and to step out of the way of the world and allow the world to reveal its succinct mystery and perfection. that said, ironically the poet is essential:)

    i especially love these two:


    blueberries in a
    pancake, midnight planets and
    no less mystery

    *

    kayak in mist, no
    memory card in the camera,
    clicking away with joy

    ___

    as you wrote them:) i have the feeling i don't have to tell you why i love them.

    xo
    erin

    ReplyDelete
  5. For me, "kayak in the mist, no memory card" is the most Zen-like of all. Clicking away with joy.....wow, you nailed that one, Ruth. The mechanical box is there between you and the thing experienced, but it is recognized for what it is: ultimately, hilariously unnecessary.

    What a pleasure, these, each elegant and a treasure in its own right.

    ReplyDelete
  6. I was introduced to haiku while taking a literature class and I found that it's not about what's behind you or what's to come, it's about being in the moment and being apart of that moment.

    it's a great way to connect with our surroundings and just breathe

    ReplyDelete
  7. I sometimes think, when writing, that honesty is like edging towards truth, blindfold - that by simply trying to write honestly, word by word, truth will emerge. The snag is that what is being written is a never-ending book.

    ReplyDelete

All responses are welcome.