re:Virals 462

Welcome to re:Virals, The Haiku Foundation’s weekly commentary feature on some of your favorites among the best contemporary haiku and senryu written in English. This week’s two poems in tribute to Deborah P. Kolodji, chosen by Joshua Gage, were:

     
winter rain
a mother searches
for her daughter
—Deborah P. Kolodji,
 Goblin Fruit, Winter, 2007
the last whisper 
from her spacesuit 
lost moon
—Deborah P. Kolodji,
 Tug of a Black Hole, Moth Orchid Press, 2021
 SFPA Poetry Contest, 2nd place

Introducing the poems, Joshua writes:

Debbie Kolodji was a haiku poet who came to haiku through speculative scifaiku and related forms. She was the first poet I know who took scifaiku from science fiction into other speculative genres, like myth, folklore, fantasy, and was the first poet I knew of who was able to consistently get those poems into genre venues as well as non-genre venues, like Rattle and elsewhere. Here are two poems, one older and one newer, from Kolodji to represent her legacy to haiku, scifaiku, and poetry

Opening comment:

Pensive sadness in both of these. The earlier one codes for age and sorrow (winter and rain), and either a search for a lost relationship or the never-ending concern of a parent for a child’s welfare (in the winter rain) no matter how adult child and parent may be. Motherhood is a emotive trigger. The verse may be a shade too general for some.

The later verse may appear to be science fiction. I don’t see it that way, but as the imaginative use of “spacesuit” as a keyword to suggest isolation in an alien space, or world, where a protective layer is necessary to sustain the wearer’s life, but also comes between its wearer and the rest of the universe. The addition of ‘lost moon’ may suggest also a lost love, or lost love of life, a lost home, or even lost feminity. Altogether a deeper verse, and one that connects us with Debbie Kolodji’s passing.

As a scientist by formation, I am heartened when scientific or technical observations and ideas are integrated well in the genre, an area where Debbie was a pioneer.

Richa Sharma:

Having lost my relative to suicide during her cancer treatment, I can deeply connect with this grief. No matter how unique each situation may be, every life is a source of inspiration. There are two things I remember from the hospital when I visited the oncology wing for my tests. One message is “Hope” and the other message is: “Be tough on cancer but soft on people.” I extend my heartfelt and sincere condolences to all those who are grieving Deborah.

For me, a good haiku is one that truly emerges from the heart, and this haiku by Deborah is a perfect example of that contemplation. Contemplation leads to emptiness, and that seems to be the essence of this poem to me.

While both poems are excellent in repeated readings, it’s the first one that I can relate to fully. Against the background of a powerful choice of kigo “winter rain,” L2 highlights the influential role of a mother in a daughter’s life. In both roles, the poem makes me endlessly navigate a never-ending maze in search of coherence throughout my life. It’s likely that a daughter in L3 has successfully shifted from a mother’s cycle of projecting her unfulfilled aspirations and generational pressures onto her daughter. However, it may also be that the protagonist was deprived of the opportunity to celebrate her daughter because of a personal loss.

The repression of the formation of a mother and her daughter’s unique selves is central to psychoanalytic and feminist theories. The beautifully intricate mother-daughter attachment with all its guilt and anxieties is always a reminder that despite the lack or the presence of excessive emotional bonding, I, as a mother will need to go through an extremely difficult process of supporting my daughter’s exploration of a unique self in the society. I don’t need to base it on societal norms and roles, comparisons to what I’ve done in my life, or my personality. As a conscious realisation, transparent and flexible conversations can strengthen our relationships with children. This also reminds me of the tanka poet Yosano Akiko, who in her biography has been very frank about her relationship with her mother. This is also a major aspect of contemplation for a social change.

Melissa Dennison:

Choice! But which to choose? Both are evocative, and for me both denote a sense of melancholy or loss. After deliberating I have opted for

the last whisper
from her spacesuit
lost moon

Why? Well for me it’s unusual. I don’t often encounter haiku about life beyond our planet. It also has a sense of drama and possibly even romance.

On reading this I am imagining a moon far out in space, beyond our solar system. But why is it lost? That intrigues me.

Other questions surround the first two lines. My interpretation is that her spacesuit has seen better days. It is in need of an upgrade or replacement, but does the astronaut happen to have a spare spacesuit lying around? If not, what will happen to her?

How did the astronaut get to this lost moon? Did she travel there by choice or did she crash land? How long has she been there?

When I read these lines again I can see the astronaut doing a moonwalk, slowly moving further and further away from me until all I can hear is a whisper from her spacesuit…just before she vanishes from view. But whose eyes am I seeing her through? Another astronaut? A friend? A lover?

There is a feeling of loneliness and isolation in these words. That may be implied by the last line ‘lost moon’. Now I don’t know if that is what Deborah was intending to convey, but that is what is so great about this haiku, as it leaves me not knowing and speculating.

Finally, for me at least, the power of this poem lies in its ambiguity, in the space it creates (intentional pun?) for we readers to fill with all our thoughts and imaginings. That is it’s strength, and the sign of an accomplished writer.

John Daleiden:

Kolodji’s “winter rain” haiku is constructed with a line one fragment followed by a two line phrase The seasonal words in line one establish a mood of physical discomfort, a climate condition that can be cold, wet, and uncomfortable for humans. The subsequent two line phrase introduces the reason for human activity in such an unfavorable climate—“a mother searches for her daughter”. The reader does not know the reason for the search, such knowledge is not important. The focus of the haiku is on a mother who is engaging in a task that is emotionally disconcerting and at the same time she must deal with negative climate conditions. Through perception the reader becomes immersed in the woman’s dual struggle and in this comprehension the reader becomes empathetic.

Kolodoji’s second haiku engages the reader in a similar fashion, but tears at their emotive responses to an extreme degree. “The last whisper” haiku is constructed with a two-line phrase (lines 1-2) and a one-line fragment (line 3). This time the activity of a human is depicted first—a female astronaut wearing a “spacesuit” is depicted wearing a device that is failing, a critical problem that will lead to ultimate death. The action detail describes a slow, gradual leak that will be her fatal end–”the last whisper / from her spacesuit”. This can only mean that the lifeblood oxygen is escaping—the occupant will slowly suffocate. In that gradual failure the familiar “moon”, surly a comfort, becomes “lost” as the equipment fails. When the astronaut lasps into her last moments she experiences fatality. Death. In addition to effective images Kolodoji uses repeated s sounds to suggest the sound escaping oxygen makes, a successful use of onomatopoeia

In both haiku a human being experiences emotions but different situations.. The first haiku portrays a person alive, although emotionally impacted; in the second haiku the person is slowly suffocated.

Haiku is a powerful poem that can effectively engage readers in human emotions and predicaments.

Amoolya Kamalnath:

Both verses convey a melancholic image, one with winter rain and the other with lost moon. The alliteration in winter rain provides the effect of the repetition of searching. There’s a slant rhyme in last and lost and a subtle rhyme in whisper and her in lost moon.

The mother in her winter years, is unable to find her daughter and is distraught. Did she lose her daughter? Is she no more? (the indescribable pain of grief) Or perhaps the mother is looking for a daughter who is generally unavailable for the elderly lady and her needs… Or is the mother suffering from dementia and hence searching for her daughter with her daughter being right there? There seem to be different possible scenarios in this haiku.

The first thing that came to my mind on reading this autumnal haiku is the passing away of Kalpana Chawla, an Indian born American astronaut and aerospace engineer, and six other crew members on their ill-fated STS-107 space mission aboard Space Shuttle Columbia. However, other than the subject of Astronaut/Astronomy, this could be about a child dressed up in a spacesuit in a pretend play or a fancy dress competition. This may be the last memory before she….got lost or kidnapped or expired due to some illness or a road traffic accident.

I couldn’t leave out mentioning this as I surely felt like an astronaut wearing a spacesuit then; it could be a doctor wearing the personal protective equipment (PPE) treating patients in the COVID ICU/ward and the doctor falling prey to the deadly disease and succumbing. The number of healthcare workers succumbing to either the disease or death was high and alarming all over the world.

Ashoka Weerakkody:

These two poems revisiting us from beyond, shall have to stand alone as this time there’ll be nothing from Author Deborah P. Kolodji to enlighten us on her work.  So sadly missed, she’ll be for sure.

The first Haiku here is indeed a heart warming affair with a mother’s timeless concern towards her daughter being the spark Ms. Kolodji ignites.  By “winter rain” she acknowledges that the earth we live on is not always the trustworthy habitat we humans are prone to believe by sheer dependence on the all too obvious “terra firma” mentality though human-aided disasters have brought this fragile faith down to ground zero more often than not.  Winter rain may have its own complex explanations like anything else would have.  Exception to the rule always helps, by giving benefit of doubt to the culprits of the world, but in here the poetess doesn’t seem any pleased with the rain falling in winter time.   Climate change!
Within the hazy confines of this three liner I glimpse the disturbance in a mother’s otherwise consoled mind that the unstable climate has left ajar.

The third line here says it all, loud and clear; “for her daughter.”  And it’s so proper and natural, for a mother of this world to think of just that one precious thing, the eternal, universal love only a mother can possess for her offspring.  She is unmoved, unchanged and absolutely committed to the boundless love that could never be compromised by whatever forces and barriers she would find across her path on her journey which would never end, the journey of a mother in search of her children and their boundless happiness.

The second one, offered as a special tribute to Ms.Kolodji baffles me, in its sci-fi mood and again, the unmistakable femininity cladding around.  Beginning with “the last whisper” which takes us skyrocketing into the darkness of silent deep space in an all curious mindset the poem leaves us orbiting around, lost in a cosmos where an astronaut(ess) “from her space suit” tries to communicate with us perhaps alerting us, space travellers of future, of the dangers of Space Odysseing!  Quite heroic she has to be, as the third line “lost moon.” implies with no uncertainty that the mission she undertook was unaccomplished and disastrous, but in spite of indelible failure she is trying to forewarn those who follow her or coming to rescue her to keep away and abandon her.

Again a loving and compassionate motherly feeling Deborah has gently seeded in the mind of her readers, at the very end itself.  Altogether a matching pair of deep meaning Haiku which stay discreetly parallel to each other while being quite complementary as well.

Lakshman Bulusu:

What was perceptible a moment ago is now imperceptible.

The first haiku has the subtlety of rain so heavy and that too in winter – that the speaker cannot see what is in her path in front. She is unable to find her daughter who presumably was walking with her or near her before the rain began but now has turned some way to find a nearby shelter forgetting her mother’s presence. Metaphorically it might mean not being able to find what was there with someone but has now slipped away because of some impediment that came in the way unanticipated. Winter when white is beautiful, but there is another angle to it when the winter day is lashed by heavy rain and appears opaque. An opportunity that was near and close to be seized now seems a long shot.

I like the how the haikuist makes the cut – L1 describes the situation and L2-3 mention the outcome arising from the situation.

The second haiku too has a context that describes the situation, one that portrays an astronaut communicating with world for the last time by way of a whisper and hence “lost (the) moon” that she was on a while ago and the same moon is no longer visible in per path.; or was viewing the moon from the earth wearing an astronaut’s spacesuit a moment ago and is now gone..

Metaphorically it could mean that what was once a reality is now gone – lost for good or unable to view any longer. I like the way how the haikuist makes the cut after L2. L1-2 describe the situation and L3 the outcome.

The two haiku stress the impermanence of things and what is now doesn’t exist the next moment and seeking them can sometimes be unrewarding.  Be it a rainy winter day or a last whisper, the outcome is a loss or one that is missing. And though the speaker’s daughter may be persistent and the moon too, given the situation in context both seem to have gone missing or lost.

Sandip Chauhan — isolation, and the search for connection:

Though different in setting, Deborah P. Kolodji’s haiku are thematically united. Both incorporate a search motif and revolve around absence and loss while facing harsh conditions: cold rain in one and the vacuum of space in the other. Despite their contrasting settings—one on Earth and the other in the vast expanse of space—their thematic cores are intertwined.

In “winter rain,” the imagery sets a sad, cold atmosphere, reflecting a mother’s anguish as she searches for her daughter. This can be interpreted literally as a physical search for a missing daughter or metaphorically as an emotional quest to reconnect or mend a relationship. The use of “searches” implies urgency and distress, highlighting parental worry and grief. The winter rain symbolizes obstacles and hardships, underscoring the mother’s ongoing hope and effort to find her child. Additionally, the winter rain could symbolize the emotional distance or separation between the mother and daughter, making the search symbolic of efforts to bridge gaps and heal relationships.

In contrast, “the last whisper” shifts to a more futuristic and science fiction-inspired setting. The phrase “last whisper from her spacesuit” conveys finality and isolation, while “lost moon” enhances the feeling of desolation and distance. This can be read literally as a space exploration scenario or metaphorically as a final attempt at emotional connection. The spacesuit might represent personal barriers, while the lost moon symbolizes unattainable goals or lost connections. On a deeper level, the haiku reflects on humanity’s place in the universe, the fleeting nature of existence, and our search for meaning in the cosmos. It could also be interpreted as an environmental warning, with the spacesuit symbolizing artificial environments and the lost moon representing the disappearing natural world.

Overall, both haiku share similar themes of longing, isolation, and the search for connection. They explore the emotional struggles faced by individuals in difficult circumstances, whether it’s a mother seeking her daughter or an astronaut facing loneliness in space. Each piece addressing responses to adversity and the universal human experience of dealing with loss and the desire for reconnection.

PS: Upon discovering Kolodji’s work, I gained a deeper understanding for her contributions. Her poetry reflects the beauty and depth she shared with the world.

Thanks to all who sent commentaries. As the contributor of the commentary reckoned best this week, Sandip has chosen next week’s poem, which you’ll find below. We invite you to write a commentary to it. It may be as long or short, academic or spontaneous, serious or silly, public or personal as you like. All with respect for the poet. Out-takes from the best of these take their place in the THF Archives. Best of all, the chosen commentary’s author gets to pick the next poem.

Anyone can participate. Simply use the re:Virals commentary form below to enter your commentary on the new week’s poem (“Your text”) by the following Tuesday midnight, Eastern US Time Zone, and then press Submit to send your entry. The Submit button will not be available until Name, Email, and Place of Residence fields are filled in. We look forward to seeing your commentary and finding out about your favourite poems!

Poem for commentary:

     
end of summer
only a few chips of polish
left on her toenails
—Abigail Friedman
 Street Chatter Fading, 
 Larkspur Press, Monterey, Kentucky 2015

The Haiku Foundation reminds you that participation in our offerings assumes respectful and appropriate behavior from all parties. Please see our Code of Conduct policy.

Footnote:

Received much after the dealine from Alan Harvey:
“I first read these haiku prompts on the drive back from Texas on a road trip which scrambled my understanding of the particular day of the week. I realize this is late for submission. Perhaps, you will find some merit.

Rarely have I read haiku that offer such despair as this pair do. First, we have a mother searching for her lost daughter in bone-chilling winter rain. We follow that up with a Hitchcockian suspense. In the second, we’re given information – we know it’s her ‘last whisper from her spacesuit’ and there’s a ‘lost moon’ foreshadowing a personal calamity. This is a fitting tribute to Kolodji’s speculative and science fiction legacy.”

Deborah P. Kolodji has a biographic entry in Wikipedia.

An interview with her together with advice appeared in New to Haiku January 2022

Among her verses, the simple, universal and evocative:

lemonade
that moment we know
the feeling is gone

Rattle, March 8, 2019
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