HAIKU DIALOGUE – Intoxication – Meditation – commentary

Intoxication with Guest Editor Deborah Karl-Brandt

It has been with us since time immemorial, and almost all of us have experienced it firsthand: intoxication. Endorphins produced in the body during exercise give us a feeling of happiness known as a “runner’s high,” and once again we are intoxicated. Intoxicants have been used to awaken our spirituality, make us forget physical hardships, or elevate our imagination to unprecedented heights. And yet intoxication has its dark side. In the coming weeks, we want to explore how legal intoxicants affect us, our brains, and our everyday lives. I invite you to join me on a journey into our everyday lives and our brains to explore intoxication.

Below is Deborah’s commentary for Meditation:

betweenbreathsthebugofanxiety

Nitu Yumnam
UAE

Okay, we’re at the beginning. Sitting on this cushion for the first time – or maybe for the thousandth time – counting our breaths and, in between, the fear. Maybe that’s what led us here? We notice it and still take the next, slow breath. And we count and don’t let it overwhelm us; we learn to live with it by recognizing it, naming it, and accepting it. And maybe our chest will already feel a little more open with the next breath. By the way, only the shape of the monoku can bring claustrophobia to life so wonderfully. Just reading about it, I can feel it taking hold of me. Inhale, exhale, slowly!

four counts in
six counts out
his key in the lock

C.X. Turner
UK

This poem relies heavily on the principle of “show, don’t tell.” We find ourselves right in the middle of the action, counting our breaths and wondering what will happen when the door opens. A joyful reunion with a beloved husband or an encounter with a feared abuser. Either could happen. Schrödinger’s cat!

I sit –
thinking of
no thing

Tim Chamberlain
Tokyo, Japan

I love the play on words between “thinking of nothing” and “thinking of no thing.” How much of our lives do we spend thinking about the things we seem to be missing – the things we’d like to buy but don’t have the money or space for – or about the stuff that comes to us after a death and that we have to deal with, give away, sell, or donate? We rarely seem to be in exactly the right place, with exactly the right people. We wish for and long to be on the couch, in bed, and on vacation. We want to finally watch Netflix, read, listen to music, and finally relax. This poem shows us the solution: sit down and quiet your thoughts. Only then will the cycle come to an end.

it’s hard
to understand
tree thoughts

Charles Harper
Yokohama

There’s the question: what might a tree’s thoughts be like? What could we learn from a living being that lives so much longer than we do, spends its entire life firmly rooted in one place, and has no thumbs? This poem encourages the reader to leave their ego behind. There are far more living beings in this world than just humans. Moreover, we are all connected to one another. Without trees, we would have no air to breathe.

swept away
in the sweet serenity
of singing bowls

Jeannie Harkema
Nevada

This poem, too, asks us who we are when we quiet our thoughts – and with them, our ego. Are we music? Only one thing is certain: when we’re in the flow, we can be completely ourselves by forgetting ourselves.

meditating on it
this world upside-down
in a dewdrop

Bryan Rickert
Belleville, Illinois

This poem radiates a beauty and melancholy that touches the heart. I picture blossoms reflected in dewdrops and captured by a photographer. A fleeting moment in time, yet permanently preserved. Trapped in the dewdrop, trapped within ourselves and our time, this poem raises questions for us. What will remain of us, and what lies ahead? How real is “reality”? Is there even such a thing as a shared reality? No answers are given. All that remains for us is to embrace the moment and live through it with full awareness.

missing peace…
the almost
of a full moon

Tony Williams
Scotland, UK

Melancholic, beautiful, and multifaceted, this poem moves us with its poignancy and ambiguity. Of course, one might interpret it politically or feel empathy for a fellow human being who also suffers from insomnia. It all depends on the reader’s perspective.

Either way, there’s one more thing I’d like to say. Yes, that’s exactly it! I understand it! And I feel understood. Perhaps all that remains is the wish to have said it myself in this one wonderful way. Since that’s not possible, all we can do is take joy in this poem.

Soham —
the becoming
of a fallen leaf

Lakshmi Iyer
India

You might have to google ‘Soham’ first. I certainly did. Soham is a mantra that combines the syllables for “inhaling” and “exhaling.” Yes, this poem reminds us of one of the most fundamental functions our body performs on its own: breathing, and thus the sustenance of our lives. But one day, our breath will run out, and we will become ‘a fallen leaf’. A harsh truth that few of us are willing to face. Yet life and death complement each other.

rhythmic breathing . . .
within this dream
a dream

Valentina Ranaldi-Adams
Fairlawn, Ohio USA

If only we could wake up from the entanglements of dreams. Zen teaches us that meditation is a way to wake up and see the world exactly as it is. This masterful senryu effectively exploits the potential of word repetition.

already the moon
who becomes the moon
the moon

Morgan Ophir
Sydney, Australia

Another Zen poem that is simply so beautiful. Does this poem tell a story that could happen at any time? Yes and no. There may be circumstances under which something like this could happen – with a puddle, a disturbance, and the image of the moon slowly settling. But ultimately, this poem perfectly captures one of the principles of Zen. We are already what we have always been, and yet it takes us a whole lifetime to become the person we were from the very beginning. This poem, too, uses repetition as a very effective device to build the text.

On failure, farts and missed butterflies

I’d like to share with you a few senryu that explore the pitfalls and challenges of meditation – whether through the unusual choice of structuring the poem with multiple breaks, particularly clever word choices, or unconventional storytelling. Each of these poems is charming, witty, and masterfully crafted. Enjoy reading them!

breathing in—
needing to pee—
breathing out

Patricia Haddock
United States

 

dead leg
a pitstop before
enlightenment

Shloka Shankar
India

 

my stomach
has the last word
om chanting

Arvinder Kaur
Chandigarh, India

 

at the end
of yoga class––
snoring meditation

Sheila Sondik
Bellingham, Washington

 

meditation circle
the inner spirit
farts

Mike Fainzilber
Tel Aviv, Israel

 

weight loss yoga
my mantra
doesn’t fit

Millicent Bee
Richmond, Virginia

 

numb knees —
this Buddha of mine
knows nothing of butterflies

Elisabetta Castagnoli
Italia

Join us next week for our next prompt…

Bios

Guest Editor Deborah Karl-Brandt lives in Sinzig, Germany, with her husband, two rabbits, and a sizable collection of books. After completing her PhD in Scandinavian languages and literatures, she works as a freelance writer. Her works have appeared in numerous haiku and short poetry magazines and have earned her several honorable mentions, second place in the haiku competition at the 2021 Pula Film Festival, and the 6th Star Haiku Contest Overseas Grand Prize in 2025. Also in 2025, she was selected as a fellow for confluence. She has also served as a guest editor for Haiku Dialogue since 2023. Her new book, Wild Rabbit Moon, was published in 2026.

Assistant Editor Lafcadio, a former teacher, now works from home writing, editing and proofreading study guides for nursing textbooks. She lives in Tennessee. She has written poetry for a long time but a couple of years ago fell in love with Japanese micropoetry and hasn’t looked back. Lafcadio has been published in a number of journals and anthologies. She writes under the nom de plume of Lafcadio because nom de plume is so fun to say. You can read her poems on Twitter (X) @lafcadiopoetry or BlueSky @lafcadiobsky.

Assistant Editor Vandana Parashar is an associate editor of haikuKATHA and one of the editors of Poetry Pea and #FemkuMag. Her debut e-chapbook, I Am, was published by Title IX Press (now Moth Orchid Press) in 2019 and her second chapbook Alone, I Am Not, was published by Velvet Dusk Publishing in April 2022.

Lori Zajkowski is the Post Manager for Haiku Dialogue. She lives in New York City and enjoys reading and writing haiku.

Managing Editor Katherine Munro lives in Whitehorse, Yukon Territory, and publishes under the name kjmunro. She served as Membership Secretary for Haiku Canada for ten years, and her debut poetry collection is contractions (Red Moon Press, 2019). Find her at: kjmunro1560.wordpress.com.

Portrait by Laurel Parry

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Banner Photo credit:  Andreas Brandt

Haiku Dialogue offers a triweekly prompt for practicing your haiku. Posts appear each Wednesday with a prompt or a selection of poems from a previous week. Read past Haiku Dialogue posts here.