re:Virals 500

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, hosted by Keith Evetts (managing editor) and Melissa Dennison.  In the seat today is Keith.   As last week’s winner was unable to get a choice to us in time, this week’s poem chosen by co-host Melissa was:

what I saw was thorns
until one day I passed by
and saw blackberries
— Kelly Shaw
January 10, 2025, the Mainichi, Japan

Introducing this poem, Melissa writes:

Reading Kelly’s haiku for the first time on Good Friday I was struck by the symbolism of thorns, with respect to suffering and Christ’s passion. In addition, this verse seems apt for those of us like me in the northern hemisphere, since it’s spring. And this is a time of transformation, which this poem seems to be about. One day the poet saw thorns, and on a different occasion blackberries. What was painful is now described in a positive light. Their sense-making and perspective has altered. This radical shift in so few words is powerful and offers a hopeful message. Lastly, I don’t know if anyone will notice, but there’s no clear cut here.

Opening comment (Keith):

Pedagogues of haiku in the English language may focus on three formal aspects of this haiku.

It is written in the 5-7-5 format, as with many of Kelly’s haiku. There were rather bitter wrangles over this in the past, not least in Japan where a pattern of 5-7-5 sound units is undeniably traditional, with some exceptions, until Japanese haiku poets branched out from the late 1800s to the present. That haiku in English need not mimic the sound patterns of an altogether differently-structured language is entirely defensible. But I think it is somewhat daft to insist, as some editorial submission guidelines do, that haiku in English “must not” be in 5-7-5. If the content fits without stretching (or ungainly compressing), and reads naturally and musically in that pattern, as with this verse, that should be fine.

The verse is written in the past tense. While the great majority of haiku are written in the present tense,  and that lends freshness and immediacy to a verse, I have, as regular readers know, a growing file of examples ancient and modern of published haiku in the past tense, particularly the recent past.  It can seem   unnecessarily artificial to contrive to put a memory or a reflection in the present tense simply to fit in with one of the many conventions that pundits of anglophone haiku have imposed on the genre as if ‘rules.’  One could argue that the only present moment in a haiku is the moment when a reader reads the verse and experiences its insight, joy, beauty, humour, recognition…

This haiku is also written in the form of a single sentence, defying another popular convention in anglophone haiku. Again, there are many ancient and modern examples  of this, particularly the old masterly ones where a cutting word is placed at the end, inviting the reader to reflect. I have written in re:Virals this year of ichibutsujitate and ichimonojitate, the definitions of which are slightly hazy in that ‘butsu’ can mean ‘thing’ in the sense of ‘theme’ or ‘matter’, and ‘one thing’ can be taken as one sentence (and is so taken by at least one expert), one theme, and/or a single image.  A haiku in English in the form of a sentence without a cut, or one with an implied cut at the end for reflection, can nevertheless contain a subtle juxtaposition of two (or an arrangement of more) images or aspects for the reader to compare. In Kelly’s haiku we have two images of the bramble and two aspects seen by the poet juxtaposed in both place and time.  Two contrasting ‘moments’ compared.

The third formal aspect is the question of a ‘cut’ or clear grammatical break in the sentence. Here I think there is a subtle cut at the end of line 1, a pause, before ‘until…’  And even another slight pause before ‘and’ at the start of line 3.

There are conventions, there are techniques, there are characteristics of haiku, all of which can be very useful.  But they are not absolute rules.  The essence is content that has a visceral effect.  Form should be adapted to set off content.  Content should not be driven by the artificialities of form.  All that said, if content fits naturally into an accepted good form, with a little wordsmithing, that can give additional pleasure.

This week’s haiku is a pleasing verse in plain language.  It brought to mind the work of James Hackett.  There is no over-striving for ‘poetic effect.’  It reads well. It is based on visual images. It offers the reader a chance to meditate and draw insight: that it is unwise to rely on an initial adverse impression; that we may see what we want to see; that even unpromising circumstances may bear fruit; even that the other side of pleasure is pain and vice-versa. These may not be new insights. They appear in many philosophies. But they are important enough reflections to bear repetition, here presented in a fresh way, an easily understandable instance.  A credit too, to the discerning editor of The Mainichi’s Haiku in English feature, for publishing it.

Lakshmi Iyer:

Seeing is believing but not always as that comes from the horse’s mouth. Thorns are a defensive mechanism for blackberry and I liked the way this poem handles the deeper significance as what we see or experience at first is not always the reaction next.

I remember my father being a strict disciplinarian and often I wonder why that is so, but then when we shine in academic and sports, it brings a fine picture of the best dad in the whole world. Not always are people so tangy or prickly..the circumstances makes them so and it helps in our grooming as blackberry are sweet as well.  But, sometimes our reactions are so slow, we miss the person behind it!

Another way of summarising is that its not easy to taste the sweet honey..we have to literally get stung by bees; so too the taste of blackberry as passing through thorns.  Thank you Kelly!  It’s only when such poems pass through our minds that we understand the profound facts of life.

Sitarama Seshu Maringanti:

A philosopher-poet wrote that he once went in search of beautiful flowers in his garden. What he found in turn were twigs full of thorns. Life holds bouquets of surprises in its bounteous hands. It’s no surprise, therefore, that Kelly Shaw saw thorns one day and blackberries soon thereafter in their place. A heart warming Haiku that puts in juxtaposition life’s vagaries
and unexpected bounties.

Fatma Zohra Habis:

It is a truly wonderful poem in which the writer highlights the importance of looking toward the future and not judging things at first glance. In the first line, he describes what he initially saw—a thorn—but as time passed, it completely changed and became became delicious black berries.

Raji Vijayaraghavan Raji:

I love this haiku for its subtle reference to perception and how it changes with time and circumstance. What must seem a thorny situation at first glance may give a better understanding of the event with changed circumstances. When revisited, our perception and reaction to it adjusts accordingly too. When the changes are for better, it helps everyone around further both physically and emotionally for a favourable outcome..

Swagata Soumyanarayan:

The immediate picture that came to my mind was one of different time lines between L1 and L2. It seemed as if the speaker in L1 is a younger version of the one in the second line, perhaps wiser.

The reference from ‘thorns to berries’ has a wonderful touch of philosophy saying that ‘all is not what it seems, ‘ life is illusionary or ‘Maya.’ What we perceive as thorns are a metaphor for challenges, limitations, both real and imagined to push us forward, the thorns acting as a catalyst for growth.

The theme of ‘thorns and berries’ could also allude to the virtue of ‘patience’ that is difficult in youth (when all we want is instant gratification), but grows steadily as one ages. Or it could be a opportunity in disguise advising us to overcome adversity. In my own life I have come across ‘thorns’ that turned out to be blessings in disguise, coming to fruition as blackberries.’

I can picture the surprise and delight on the speaker’s face as she/he realizes that the thorns were really blackberry buds. A memorable poem that lends itself to various interpretations!

Amoolya Kamalnath:

A very promising note, a positive message indeed, in today’s war-torn, terror and hate spreading world picture.

There’s something that has occurred from thorns in L1 to blackberries in L3. What happened in between and how did this magical transformation occur? Is there something we can do for this magical transformation to occur or so s it happen on its own? How long does it take for this change to occur?

Each line in this verse has a word in the past tense and it works very well. I think that it wouldn’t have worked any other way. The poem reads like free verse micropoetry in the first reading. However, it carries a deep meaning though it is something that we may pass by daily in our lives and may or may not notice. A keen observation by the poet, indeed.

Lakshman Bulusu:

This haiku brings to light Impermanence in life and the constancy of change in nature. What was once a thorny place has transformed into a sweet abundance of blackberries. The “thorns” can signify “difficulties or sadness in life” and the “blackberries”, “unbounded joy” Time is the best healer that brings change in one’s life for the better. This haiku can also imply “enlightenment” in one’s life when seen from a spiritual angle.

As a haiku, it has season in blackberries. Very well articulated by the haikuist.

Sudha Devi Nayak—the soul of a meditator:

In this haiku by Kelly Shaw, the bush that had merely thorns is seen one day sprouting blackberries. Often we turn a blind eye to things we consider inconsequential and unworthy of our attention but they can pleasantly surprise us one fine day.  That we had ignored in sheer contempt or plain indifference has more to it, we  realise, than first meets the eye. The haiku holds the deep lesson that we need to look beyond the apparent into the heart of things. It calls to mind the celebrated Bashō’s “When I look carefully / I see the nazunia blooming / By the hedge”. The nazunia is a common flower but to appreciate it requires the soul of a meditator, who can sense the extraordinary beyond the ordinary. The spring’s profusions, after the leaflessness of winter, the sun waiting behind menacing clouds, the tiny rosebud nestling among thorns waiting to bloom , the slimy caterpillar transforming into a breathtakingly beautiful butterfly are certainties we have to keep faith in.

We need to ask questions, gaze at the world with wonder like Socrates, speak to it with reverence, and listen to it with empathy. We cannot be dismissive of anything or any one because as Rick Brag the American journalist says: “Every life deserves a certain amount of dignity, no matter how poor and damaged the shell that comes with it”. To judge, to discriminate, to ignore the potential we all carry within us is to forego our own chances of coming out of our ignorance and becoming better human beings.

Author Kelly Shaw:

Thinking about blackberry bushes and periodically walking past some nearby, “thorns” then prompted thoughts about Jesus/Yeshua. Ever since reading the phrase “Be passerby*” in the Gospel of Thomas, I’ve felt haunted by it, I suppose because I’ve moved around a lot. Only later did I realize some of its other associations, such as non-grasping and a countercultural lifestyle. But basically I just love this passage’s immediate impact, its mix and range of depth and lightness, and it popped up naturally. At one point I had “walked” instead of “passed”, but it didn’t have quite the same sound or sense somehow, probably for this reason.

In general, this haiku reflects my own life experience – in my younger years, like many, I felt a lot of angst, but now in my middle years I feel much more at ease. But hopefully it also reflects anyone’s change in perspective or journey to a lighter way of being. I like to see it as a little ode to a wonderful bush and a great line.

* Apparently it may also be translated as “Be wanderers” (hurray hunter-gatherers!) or “Come into being as you pass away” (hurray reducing our ego, concepts and storylines, and connecting more with our soul!).

Thanks to all who sent commentaries. As the contributor of the commentary reckoned best this week, Sudha Devi Nayak has chosen next week’s poem, which you’ll find below. We invite you to write a commentary to it. It may be short, or of moderate length, academic, your personal response, spontaneous, or idiosyncratic.  As long as it focuses on the verse presented, and with respect for the poet, all genuine reader reaction, criticism, and pertinent discussion is of value.   Out-takes are kept 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:

     
flooded river
deep in meditation
a stone Buddha
—Mirela Brailean
 The Haiku Foundation Haiku Dialogue 2 April 2025

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:

Way after the caboose disappeared over the skyline, this received from Strummin’ Dan Campbell:

Critique of a Kelly Shaw Poem by Bluegrass Music Superstar Dan Campbell

“what I saw was thorns”
That line? That’s the hard road, son. That’s every bad break, every barbed wire fence we’ve had to climb just to keep moving. Reminds me of walking through North Carolina fields as a boy—nothing but brambles and the devil’s own snare. It’s honest. It hurts a little. Kinda like pluckin’ a banjo when your fingers are raw—you do it anyway, because the music’s in you.

“until one day I passed by”
Now we got a shift—and that’s life, ain’t it? You keep moving, even when it cuts you. This line’s a footstep. It’s the sound of a man not giving up, maybe humming a tune with a bent blues harmonica. Or sittin’ on a porch, pickin’ slow on a banjo till the clouds roll by. Something’s changing.

“and saw blackberries”
And then—bam. Redemption. That’s the good stuff. That’s the sweet fruit on the other side of sorrow. Just like a love you almost gave up on, or a song that took twenty years to write. There’s still thorns, sure—but now there’s something more. That’s a grace note, right at the end. Like the high lonesome ring of a banjo roll that lifts you clean outta your troubles.

What I’d Say in the Studio:
This is a three-chord truth, right here. Ain’t fancy, don’t need to be. It’s got soul. You might tweak a line for rhythm if you’re singing it—but for the page, it’s pure bluegrass haiku.
—–

Bio:
Kelly Shaw feels at home in Northern California, Chicago and New England, was a student and participant in a couple of Clark Strand’s haiku groups for 6 years, frequently placing in the monthly Tricycle haiku challenges, and for 13 years maintained a kind of commonplace book / curated an outreach project called Lit Hum.  His haiku have been published in several journals and periodicals, including Seashores, Tricycle, and the Kyoto Haiku Project; and a few anthologies.

—–

I am indebted to Kelly for bringing up the Gospel of Thomas, the discovery of which eighty years ago is an interesting story.  The saying “Be passersby” is No. 42 (coincidentally Richard Adams’ answer to Life, the Universe, and Everything).   Thomas’ saying No. 43, somewhat antisemitic, is also of interest in context: “… they love the tree (and) hate its fruit, and they love the fruit (and) hate the tree.”  And the homely No.45: “Grapes are not gathered from thistles, and figs are not gathered from thorns.”

Which last leads nicely to one of my favourite quotations from Emperor Marcus Aurelius, made freshly relevant by recent events:

“You shouldn’t be surprised that a fig tree produces figs.” —Meditations 8:15