Haiku Dialogue: What’s at Hand Week 17
Welcome to Haiku Dialogue — What’s at Hand Week 17 with Guest Editor Craig Kittner.
Let’s talk about haiku! Through June 26 we will see what 21 common objects can inspire.
Our theme for May 29 is a weathered wall.
Immerse yourself in the theme, then submit one original, unpublished haiku via our Contact Form. Please submit by Saturday, May 25 at 6:00 pm eastern time. Include your name as you would like it to appear and your place of residence.
By submitting you agree that your work may appear in the column — neither acknowledgment nor acceptance emails will be sent.
I will select haiku that make good use of the theme and that are likely to generate lively discussions. I’ll add some thoughts below each week’s selections to get the conversation started.
Here are my selections for a shiny instrument.
summer secrets –
in the sunlit window
her childhood triangleAdrian Bouter
drips of honey
from a silver spoon
skylark songAgus Maulana Sunjaya
Tangerang, Indonesia
veterans
a trumpeter sitting
intones “the silence”Angiola Inglese
the clank of scissors
on a stainless basin
a newborn criesAnthony Rabang
mother’s home –
the missing i
of her typewriterarvinder kaur
Chandigarh, India
summer’s return
what the mirror
doesn’t seeBill Kenney
under the neon saxophone
an old man is shining
a stranger’s shoeBranka Cukrov-Belak
ebbing light
her silver serving spoon
idleChristina Pecoraro
soldier’s bugle
the gentle tapping
of rainEdward Cody Huddleston
full moon
a ramadan drummer
in streetsGuliz Mutlu
speculum gleaming nurse beams
Helen Buckingham
old theater
a shiny trumpet reflects
her love storyHifsa Ashraf
Rawalpindi, Pakistan
first geometry set
stainless steel shine
before theoremsIngrid Baluchi
Ohrid, Macedonia
keeping it polished
the ancient voice
of my singing bowlKath Abela Wilson
Pasadena, California
whetstone
an edge of anger
I’ve not knownKimberly Esser
Los Angeles, CA
cathedral bells
the fin of a whale
breaches the surfaceLaurie Greer
Washington, DC
missing mobile toddler’s escape
Margaret Walker
surgical suite —
the cold sterile gleam
of the instrumentsMark Meyer
yellow bird
his fingers fly over
the clarinetMartha Magenta
UK
first-year resident…
a blood droplet
on her new scalpelNancy Brady
shiny instrument
cuts down to the marrow
your sharp wordsnancy liddle
australia
back porch solo
the shine of her flute
in moonlightPat Davis
Pembroke, NH, USA
morning rain
the sound of taps
from the trumpetRich Schilling
open air concert
the trumpeters solo
amongst the starsRobert Kingston
Essex,UK
school saxophone
the silent notes
of schizophreniaRoberta Beary
Co Mayo, Ireland
the lead trombone
swallows the brassy sun
a glare bound beeRon Scully
a street concert…
a trumpet shines
in the moonlightRosa Maria Di Salvatore
street trumpet players
crowd cheering to the glow
of their mobile phonesSanela Pliško
the flute shines
against the black velvet
concert under the starsSari Grandstaff
Saugerties, NY
spring thunder
in the barber’s hand
glitter оf scissorsSerhiy Shpychenko
Kyiv, UA
eyeful of sun
the abscess lanced
via pocket knifesimonj
UK
blues note
the shine of the trumpet
no longer thereStephen A. Peters
sewing needle –
attempting to mend
my auraValentina Ranaldi-Adams
Fairlawn, Ohio, USA
While a tool may be put to many a useful purpose, work of extreme delicacy or artistry requires an instrument. And when that instrument is shiny, you can be sure that it is new or well-loved and cared for.
Nancy Brady gives us a compelling moment, encapsulated in that bead of blood on the new doctor’s blade. The scalpel shines for several reasons. It is new, it carries that bright drop of blood, and it is emblematic of the transition from student to professional.
Christina Percoraro’s haiku has an air of gentle sadness. The dimming of a life and nostalgia for brighter times. And nothing shines quite like silver, don’t you think?
Musical instruments made many fine appearances this week. Edward Cody Huddleston and Rich Schilling both give us moving depictions of the sound of rain tapping on an instrument that is playing taps.
Ron Scully offers a visually stunning image, and although I’m not sure what to make of “a glare bound bee,” my mind is enjoying the ride.
Branka Cukrov-Belak makes her debut here with a clever and original take on the theme. The instrument as a neon sign, and the double meaning of the word “shining” captivated me.
arvinder kaur also makes good use of duality of meaning. The missing key from the typewriter blending with the absence of a person. I am not certain of the identity of the “i” that is missing, and I am content with the uncertainty. Growing up and growing old brings a multiplicity of missing people. Including the people we used to be.
Let us know what you think of these delicate works of art. Please add your comment below.
Guest Editor Craig Kittner lives near the banks of the Cape Fear River in Wilmington, North Carolina. He has worked as a gallery director in Washington, DC, and a program director for the Kentucky Arts Council. He took second prize in the North Carolina Poetry Society Bloodroot Haiku Award for 2019.
Katherine Munro lives in Whitehorse, Yukon Territory, and publishes under the name kjmunro. She is Membership Secretary for Haiku Canada and an Associate Member of the League of Canadian Poets. She co-edited an anthology of crime-themed haiku called Body of Evidence: a collection of killer ’ku.
This Post Has 41 Comments
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hallo hallo good haijin,
I counted the trumpets, scissors, scalpels, a surgical suite, needles, spoons, triangle, geometry box and somehow all of them work for me. Just that I am leaning towards childhood and the observations made about it…
Haloo. Craig, still keepin’ a watch… betcha you could not see me… now you see me, now you don’t
whoosh
Stirring ku, once again. I regret that new work has stolen my time for comment. Am grateful to you, Craig, and later Alan, for your words about mine.
Thanks again Craig for including my haiku! Great reading as always! Look forward to every Wednesday now.
thank you Craig for including my haiku <3
Thank you, Craig, once again. Enjoyed this week’s selection, and the comments from yourself and everyone else add another dimension, layer upon layer.
the clank of scissors
on a stainless basin
a newborn cries
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Anthony Rabang
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Auditory ku, where two harsh sounds accompany a moment of joy. Comparison and contrast.
And… three levels of shine, two inferred from the medical instruments, and the figurative neborn. In fact, the whole thing shines.
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Just a few of a fine selection I particularly enjoyed.
keeping it polished
the ancient voice
of my singing bowl
Kath Abela Wilson
Pasadena, California
whetstone
an edge of anger
I’ve not known
Kimberly Esser
Los Angeles, CA
cathedral bells
the fin of a whale
breaches the surface
Laurie Greer
Washington, DC
yellow bird
his fingers fly over
the clarinet
Martha Magenta
UK
Thank dear Craig for including my work
Terima kasih
Dear Craig,
Greetings! Thank you so much for your blog . Re reading all the powerful writes here. Comments are all the more interesting and enlivening.
with regards
S.Radhamani
Thank you Craig for selecting mine for debate.
Craig, thank-you for including my senryu this week. Congrats to all the poets !!
Thanks for including my ku.
A few comments, avoiding points already made by Alan and Craig:
the clank of scissors
on a stainless basin
a newborn cries
Anthony Rabang
In a gathering of sibilants, “clank” makes itself heard, meanwhile preparing us for “cries.” The central word of line 2 gives us stain and takes it away, leaving an absence at the center (syllables 8-9) of the poem. And in how many directions does “cries” point us? An impressive balance of austerity and richness, presenting its moment in hard-edged detail. One suggestion: the first line, and the poem as a whole, might be stronger without the first word. Oh, and maybe some punctuation at the end of line 2.
mother’s home —
the missing i
of her typewriter
avinder kaur
If “mother’s” is read as the possessive, two conflicting readings are suggested by what follows: selflessness or impersonality. The emphasis placed on “home” may give slightly greater weight to the second of these, and the impersonality of the surroundings might suggest something, perhaps something negative, about the mother’s character. If, on the other hand, “mother’s” is read as a contraction (mother is), then she becomes merely a very weak presence. The uncertainty may be lessened by inserting “my” at the beginning of the first line.
soldier’s bugle
the gentle tapping
of rain
Edward Cody Huddleston
If the word were “taps,” I’d hear only Taps, but “tapping” allows more. I can hear, very faintly, the sound of drums and, from that, even more faintly, a sound something like gunfire. And then the rain washes it away.
speculum gleaming nurse beams
Helen Buckingham
Everything seems so bright and in its place that I find myself feeling just a bit uneasy. All the more fun if this possibility hadn’t occurred to the writer.
keeping it polished
the ancient voice
of my singing bowl
Kath Abela Wilson
This demands that readers repeatedly reorient themselves and thus becomes a meditation on making meaning (always produced, never achieved). An object (“it”) that can be “polished” becomes a “voice” (“ancient” at that) that turns out to belong to a “bowl” — a “singing bowl” to be sure. Magical in its easy fusion of matter and spirit (just like a singing bowl in this respect), this one is special, even in this distinguished company.
whetstone
an edge of anger
I’ve not known
Kimberly Esser
Restraint (not “I’ve never known”) and indirection (the instrument kept just outside the poem) combine to give this its considerable power.
surgical suite —
the cold sterile gleam
of the instruments
Mark Meyer
The cold is palpable, which makes me ask if the word is necessary. Alternative possibilities:
surgical suite —
the sterile gleam
of the instruments
the gleam
of the instruments —
surgical suite
morning rain
the sound of taps
from the trumpet
Rich Schilling
How instructive to compare this fine ku to “soldier’s bugle,” by Edward Cody Huddleston, above. “bugle” v. “trumpet”; the specificity of “morning” v. the aural emphasis of “sound,” and the linking of sound to rain v. to the instrument. And why is the sound “from,” rather than “of” the trumpet?
open air concert
the trumpeters solo
amongst the stars
Robert Kingston
Sorry to come on as the Dang English Teacher, but we do occasionally read and write haiku. In line 2 “solo” must be read as a verb, even though I don’t believe that’s what you intended. You know, of course, that trumpeters, as plural, cannot solo, since to solo is the act of an individual.
The solution is simply to insert an apostrophe in the proper place in this otherwise excellent ku. You don’t want to distract your readers on their way to the stars.
Bill Kenney
Whitestone NY
Cheers Bill. Sorry to spoil the fun, but effect intentional.
Thank you for your kind words Bill!
Though guilty of the occasional punctuation blip, not sure how I missed this one. Thank you for making it right.
Rob
out of line
holding my hand up
to the masters cane
Good to meet you, Robert. I look forward to seeing more of your work.
* * * * *
Bill
Back at you Bill!
Enjoyed your YouTube reading.
May winter be a long one. Filled with plenty of sun.
Thank you, Craig, for including my haiku in your selection. I am honoured.
soldier’s bugle
the gentle tapping
of rain
Edward Cody Huddleston
Edward , I am impressed!
Thank you Craig for publishing my haiku. The haiku that stood out most for me for is this beautiful one by Kath Abela Wilson
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keeping it polished
the ancient voice
of my singing bowl
Thank you Craig for including my haiku here! Surgical instruments, musical instruments, eating utensils, sewing tools and more. Will be rereading these for a while.
So many strong and haunting images this week, some already commented on. In rereading through them all a third time I was cheered by the liveliness of:
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drips of honey
from a silver spoon
skylark song
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Agus Maulana Sunjaya
Thank you dear Debby
Glad you enjoy my work
Thank you Craig for my poem . A wonderful collection.
Thank you Craig for including my poem and for your comments. Thanks Alan for your comments. Always look forward to both,the column and the comments. Lots of insightful poems. What a wonderful collection.
Thanks, on the behalf of Alan. 😉
Cheers Alan…..believe it or not I’m just off for a smear! Completely went out of my mind as I was writing it.
Great to see the variety of interpretations throughout this selection.
Cheers back! 🙂
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Make ’em laugh!
What a great selection of work on the theme. I wish I could comment on every single one, but I have food to prepare, and a book, and feedback! 🙂
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I have become a sucker for alliteration in haiku:
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summer secrets –
in the sunlit window
her childhood triangle
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Adrian Bouter
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Partly for the classic line length shape of a Western three-line haiku, but also that the ‘reveal’ needn’t be in the last line, I wondered about:
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summer secrets–
her childhood triangle
in the sunlit window
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I was one of those children “suborned” to the triangle! I love the opening line, and childhood triangle, and sunlit window. It’s magical! 🙂
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drips of honey
from a silver spoon
skylark song
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Agus Maulana Sunjaya
Tangerang, Indonesia
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Well, a lot of alliteration going on here! 🙂 But I do like very much all the same. 🙂
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mother’s home –
the missing i
of her typewriter
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arvinder kaur
Chandigarh, India
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Is it that ‘mother’ is home, or eventually at home, or there is just one parent left (or alive) or it’s mother’s rules and everyone else has to come to heel, fair or unfair.
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A great opening line!
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The use of lowercase for I is highly effective and appropriate. Perhaps her mother is a writer, or the child/daughter is as deserted as the old technology of an old typewriter. Exceptional depth to this haiku.
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summer’s return
what the mirror
doesn’t see
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Bill Kenney
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An astute haiku as would be expected by this author, astutely human with all their frailties, subterfuge, vanities, and hiding what others would seem wrong or unfashionable perhaps?
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under the neon saxophone
an old man is shining
a stranger’s shoe
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Branka Cukrov-Belak
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This is so powerful, sad, yet beautiful. Using the trope of ‘old’ is appropriate here and far from being a cliché, or easy or lazy choice to add some depth. Beautiful word choices in the first line, and astute word/line choice in that middle line. You might say of course the person is a stranger, but actually, shoe shine workers might have a regular clientele, perhaps this one is a visiting musician, and the old man is wistfully remembering his ambitions before he had to support a growing family? There is much more to uncover with this truly exceptional haiku, enjoy doing so! 🙂
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ebbing light
her silver serving spoon
idle
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Christina Pecoraro
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It’s not as easy as it looks to leave just ONE word as the last line, believe me. This senryu is supremely crafted, and full of depth.
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soldier’s bugle
the gentle tapping
of rain
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Edward Cody Huddleston
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The author has alluded to TAPS:
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“Taps” is a bugle call played at dusk, during flag ceremonies, and at military funerals by the United States Armed Forces. … The tune is also sometimes known as “Butterfield’s Lullaby”, or by the first line of the lyric, “Day Is Done”. – WIKIPEDIA
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It’s a sublime haiku, breathtakingly beautiful and poignantly and respectively so.
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full moon
a ramadan drummer
in streets
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Guliz Mutlu
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I’ve experienced Ramadan (and it was in Turkey) but I am unaware of a ramadan drummer (to my loss) while I observed this practice of faith.
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I’m curious about the lack of the definite article (the) but it suggests the sound is everywhere moreso than bringing in ‘the streets’.
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speculum gleaming nurse beams
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Helen Buckingham
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Ah, orifices, both the medical tool, and the medical operative are both gleaming and beaming despite any potential embarressment from perhaps the thousands of patients that they have looked up to or into! 🙂 Helen Buckingham’s amazing humour is potent and pragmatic and dare I say it, but beautifully caught in this monoku. 🙂
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old theater
a shiny trumpet reflects
her love story
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Hifsa Ashraf
Rawalpindi, Pakistan
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Love that last line which makes me go back to the very beginning of the poem and enjoy it in even more depth.
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whetstone
an edge of anger
I’ve not known
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Kimberly Esser
Los Angeles, CA
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A whetstone is a particular tool, and I can imagine both knives and scissors, those long deadly scissors if used outside their normal use. Wry, astute, funny, and scaringly edgy all at the same time.
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cathedral bells
the fin of a whale
breaches the surface
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Laurie Greer
Washington, DC
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A wonderful double take on shiny instruments. For those of you who have seen a whale physically close up in the wild, those fins are the most beautiful instruments. An unusual but incredible juxtaposition of images, one of land, one of sea, but I can imagine the sound ‘reaching the sea’ and being reciprocated.
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missing mobile toddler’s escape
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Margaret Walker
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Margaret continues to expertly create hyper-short haiku whether as one line (monoku) or over three lines. This monoku makes effective use of the alliteration of ‘m’s and makes me say out loud ‘mmmmmmm!’ too! 🙂
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I feel Margaret is now outdoing Ernest Hemingway at his six word stories! 🙂
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first-year resident…
a blood droplet
on her new scalpel
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Nancy Brady
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I immediately remember the Queensland heatwave and a general doctor in his office, with a busted A/C, conducting a minor but deadly operation, with his sweat running off the scalpel in rivulets. We both lived to tell the story. 🙂
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hot january
sweat drips
from a scalpel
Alan Summers
Publication credits: Vrabac/Sparrow, Autumn/Winter 94-Spring/Summer 95
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I wonder if the medical student or probationer (I don’t know the correct term) has accidently cut her finger or thumb before she’s started on someone living, or dead? Dare I ask? 🙂
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school saxophone
the silent notes
of schizophrenia
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Roberta Beary
Co Mayo, Ireland
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Roberta brings to haiku (or senryu, or hybrid combination) the noise of pain in silent mode. In an age where too many in power are still ignorent of mental health, and how they sometimes have blood on their hands over this ignorance, this is extraordinarily powerful because of, to me, the school/saxaphone combined, and are they notes done in practice where sound is not allowed (at home) or how this person presses his or her anguish (silently) into the saxaphone.
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Beautiful, and beautifully and painfully sad, and incredibly moving. And sadly I can relate in my own way, as I know or have known many people suffering from this malady.
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deep bow,
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Alan
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Astute, insightful comments, as I’d expect from Alan
Thanks Bill, and for using astute, which I used rather a lot here. 🙂
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I am constantly astounded by the high “octane-ness” of each verse!
Alan, thank you, as always, for your comments and compliments. Reading each poem again after seeing your comments often enables me to view them from an entirely new perspective.
Craig, thank you for including my monoku this week!
Thank you! The more I read and re-read even the haiku I started to comment on, the more I saw and was rewarded! Great to see one of your famous super minimalist haiku here again! 🙂
Thank you, Alan Summers! You just made my day and encouraged me to continue creating haiku poetry. I truly believe that haiku is created, generated from deepest precipitates of our mind.
Wow that is fantastic, thank you!
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Craig also noted the amazingness of your haiku too! 🙂
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under the neon saxophone
an old man is shining
a stranger’s shoe
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Branka Cukrov-Belak
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I can read this so many ways including:
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under the neon saxophone
an old man is shining
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Even those two lines speaks volumes to me.
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a stranger’s shoe
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And this line can be read as the one line fragment section of a haiku, which along with my alternative reading of the first two lines, gifts me yet another way of reading this magical haiku.
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” I truly believe that haiku is created, generated from deepest precipitates of our mind.”
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Beautiful statement, thank you!
Thank you, Alan!
thank you, Alan! coming from you means a lot! 🙂
And thank you for a heartwarming poem, with a hint of poignancy.
Thanks Alan for your comments. I left it necessarily vague as to whose blood it was and whether it was the first cut if a surgery or not. Of course there are the lyrics says, “the first cut is the deepest,” whether it is apropos or not, I will leave it up to you.
I am so glad you lived to tell the tale via your insightful haiku. What would this column be without your in-depth analysis of the haiku each week.
Thanks Craig for including my haiku in the mix. I wasn’t even sure I sent it or accidentally sent it twice.
Now to more thoroughly read and re-read all these gems.
Nancy said:
“Thanks Alan for your comments. I left it necessarily vague as to whose blood it was and whether it was the first cut if a surgery or not.”
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Haiku can be a bit of a juggling act, not too vague, not too open, not too much ambiguity/ambivalence etc…
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I felt you skilfully brought in the right amount of everything touched on by me above. I can imagine someone either so excited they cut themselves, or for some reason they want to cut a finger or thumb, or plain clumsy etc… But also I guess it might well be the first time they have to be part of an operation on a live person, and legally. 😉
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first-year resident…
a blood droplet
on her new scalpel
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Nancy Brady
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Nancy said:
” Of course there are the lyrics says, “the first cut is the deepest,” whether it is apropos or not, I will leave it up to you.”
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Ah yes, first time I heard that song it was Cat Stevens, and then Rod Stewart. 🙂 That now makes me think she was cutting into an ex-partner! 🙂
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I am so glad you lived to tell the tale via your insightful haiku. What would this column be without your in-depth analysis of the haiku each week.
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That’s very kind. Thankfully I’m not perturbed by scalpels and syringes. I did have a general practice doctor throw a rusty syringe at me when I was a child. It didn’t unnerve me, just thought it was a bit eccentric. The job got done though. Of course a few years later the government started insisting that all doctors sterilised their needles or used fresh ones etc… 🙂
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Alan,
While I was in university, I (and my fellow classmates) had to do a surgery on a rat for physiology. I have to admit that that first slice into my rat’s skin was difficult. Despite Ari being anesthetized, it was still scary. I can only imagine how it must be for a resident to make that first cut into a human even if it could be one’s own skin out of nerves.
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I am glad you survived your various medical traumas over the years.
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Thank you again for your positive comments on not only my haiku, but the others as well. You bring a whole new awareness to the fine words of fellow poets.
Thank you dear Alan
Lovely commentary
Thank you Agus! It’s great to see you here as a regular contributor! 🙂
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drips of honey
from a silver spoon
skylark song
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Agus Maulana Sunjaya
Tangerang, Indonesia
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Ah, the days when I’d use honey for my porridge, when we could afford it. The spoon was only silver in color or a basic silver-plated spoon at best, but more likely to be Sheffield Stainless Steel, the best in the world at one point! 🙂
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juniper the tether end of larksong
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Alan Summers
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Anthology Credit:
Poetry & Place ed. Ashley Capes & Brooke Linford (Close-Up Books, April 2016)
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