re:Virals 553

“More difficult than making your own verses interesting is understanding those of others…” ―Shinkei (1406 –1475). Citing this, Onitsura (1661 – 1738) wrote: “…this should be a way in which a person is completely given over to training.”

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. In the host chair today is Susan Yavaniski. This week’s poem, chosen by Beata Czeszejko was:

milk bubbles
from a straw this universe
& that & that
— Joyce Clement
  Frogpond 38:2
  THF Volunteers Anthology 'kick the clouds' 2025
  Modern Haiku Anthology Haiku 21.2, 2025 

Introducing this poem, Beata writes:

While reading Joyce Clement’s haiku about “milk bubbles,” many thoughts came to my mind. Do parallel worlds only exist in science fiction literature? Can we affectionately call them parallel worlds, the spheres within our psyche?

The “milk bubbles” in Joyce Clement’s haiku serve as a delicate metaphor for the fragile, ephemeral nature of reality. Milk bubbles are not only childhood play. To a child, these shimmering spheres could be portals into imaginary realms.  Bubbles also offer to adults a visual metaphor for another sphere of the human psyche. This verse by Joyce Clement is an invitation to reflections on how the world works in many aspects.

Host comment (Susan):

“Milk bubbles” instantly reminded me of that trendy and colorful concoction, boba tea (a.k.a. bubble tea), and indeed, what a playful confection of a verse this is. Thirty-odd years ago, Yuki Ishihara, President of the Aki haiku group in Japan, must have caused a minor sensation at the Haiku Chicago conference when he advocated for haiku that “tell the truth as if it were false,” to create “a rich space … to enjoy a wider meaning.” (see footnote) Clement’s senryu ( or is it haiku?… see footnote!) illustrates this approach to wonderful effect,  the slightly surreal overstatement allowing for meanings more intuited and felt than rational, and so evoking for readers a galaxy of associations: “telescopes” and “space-time;”  “the Milky Way” and “a milkshake;” and “embryonic “conception” and “transience” “the sphere of the human psyche” and “that Bowl we call The Sky;” — to name but a few!

“Bubbles” is a homonym, acting as noun or verb. Taken as noun, we might construe a definitive break after it,  allowing us to interpret the ensuing lines as the phrase “from a straw this universe/ & that & that” — fantastical perhaps, but wouldn’t physicists find herein a basic truth?   This reading conveys a sense of interconnectedness, suggesting as it does both the capillary effect within a straw, of milk molecules adhering and cohering and rising, as well as the act of drinking up, of ingesting “this universe.” Like a mealtime prayer, the hyperbole hints at the very real link between the self and the food that nourishes, a reminder that not only the identifiable cosmic actions of “this universe” are at play in our sustenance, but myriad unfathomable forces of “that & that,” whatever “that” may be.

“Bubbles” as verb emphasizes the molecular chaos that ensues when blowing into a straw (perhaps one of those twisty silly straws from childhood suggested by the & ). Reading it this way renders an atypical,  but aptly disruptive,  grammatical break in the middle of line 2:  “milk bubbles from a straw // this universe & that & that”, suggesting how, like child’s play,  moments, worlds of mind, poiesis, and  multiverses arise and disappear. Clement has conjured impermanence on the cosmic as well as on the personal scale. For many readers, the verse summons that bubble-world of childhood long since imploded — for me, a grade-school cafeteria, rows of long beige Formica tables arrayed across an expanse of gray linoleum, the blue and white cardboard carton of milk, a paper straw going limp, and that dumpster placed before a curtained stage, where we tossed it all.

Alan Summers:

I guess everything has symbolism as humans have often looked for that, and for meaning. Setting aside the obvious symbolic meanings then:  As a kid, and I’m sure I’m not alone, I enjoyed the reverse action on a drinking straw to make a milk drink (UK government advised to have a glass of milk a day) bubble.

There is the common “two-partners of a haiku” if we break it down:

milk bubbles
from a straw

this universe
& that & that

One concrete phrase and one abstract/philosophical phrase.

It’s just too enticing not to conjoin these two neat phrases!

milk bubbles
from a straw // this universe
& that & that

From which we could say there is a third phrase, that extra element, if we pair two segments of a haiku in progress. Resulting in this intriguing strong mental image:

from a straw this universe

Did the Gods create various universa, and the one we presume is ours was from some youngster Roman/Greek god having a milkshake? (In my later years I became fascinated with Latin through history and literature, and use it often in my commentaries. Hence universa is the grammatically correct plural form, meaning “all things”, though rarely used in a “multiple universe” sense in classical Latin, as the concept implies there is only one “whole”.  source: Wikipedia)

Did the author have all of this in the back of her mind? After all Joyce may well be familiar with Latin as she is a bird lover and birds often come in groups of Latin! And at the end of the day it can be just “milk bubbles & that & that”.

A wonderful haiku made glorious by perhaps the glue of haiku making two interesting halves into an overall fascinating creation.

Urszula Marciniak:

Bubbles of space-time foam and milky bubbles.

The universe we try to understand as adults and the universe a child creates. A child perceives everything in an obvious way, but in the course of their education, they lose this understanding. Rules and theories replace their natural unity with the world around them. They know more and more, understand less and less, and become lost.

Perhaps it’s time to see everything through a child’s eyes again; perhaps we haven’t forgotten everything. Let’s rediscover our true selves while we still can.
Let’s create our own piece of the universe, multidimensional, full of love, understanding, milky bubbles, and soap bubbles.

All we need is to find the right straw.

Radhamani Sarma:

Born into this universe viewing the Milky Way, but rather dimly with our naked eyes, in contrast to milk bubbles blown colorful and enjoyed by all around.  Here “milk bubbles” blow and float in air, begging the question: what is the significance of this? Whether children or adults involved in this harmless game, time passes by, floats like a bubble.

The second line, with a contrasting image “from a straw this universe,” both diminishes and exalts the tempo of this verse. “From a straw this universe” emphatically establishes that the instrument itself is insignificant, disposable, an abject medium used by the persona for a higher purpose. “This universe” continues in the third line, “& that & that,” evoking some possible inferences: this body being the essence of the Milky Way, is created, “blown” one could say, with embryonic conception after intercourse,  cells multiply, and expand, a human develops with education, occupation, success, marriage, progeny, aging, and then ultimately, disappears back into the void. This world is nothing and only nothing. It is a bubble blowing only to disappear. Bubbles come up to the brim only to break much to our dismay; such is life’s journey.

At the end of colorful journey — or chaotic mess — via a straw into nullity. The following is a quote seems pertinent:
Milk is a gift from nature that nurtures us from the cradle to the grave. – Unknown

Ashoka Weerakkody:

An endlessly fascinating haiku, without the faintest touch of humanity in there!

“Milk bubbles” forming first line gives the idea of the Milky Way to me, though one may disagree.

But the inclusion of “universe” in phrase (line 2) helps me get there being only a galaxy behind!

The straw “from a straw this universe” makes me faintly see Galilean telescope of ages ago,  with all its primitivity being pointed at the space above discovering the white bubble dots of stars being formed where our Sun with its solar system with our Earth is already alive and well.

“& that & that” in line 3,  leaves us free, boundlessly free to go anywhere from there!

Nice creation from author Joyce Clement.

Amoolya Kamalnath:

I picture a child who is supposed to be drinking milk (served by the child’s mom) from a tumbler with a straw. However, rather than drinking the milk, the child is found blowing bubbles through the straw.  So much joy is being created in the moment. Of course, the joy is for the playful child — the mother or elder is more often not so happy with the child playing with the nutritious drink.

The child has created its own universe both in the play as well as in each bubble. The child goes on, finding it amusing, giggling and laughing, making multi-sized universes out of the bubbles and enjoying the creation, the sound etc.

As a child, I used to have a small steel tumbler with a steel straw attached to it (I called it a putaani glass,  putaani meaning “tiny” in Kannada, the state language of Karnataka where we resided), from which I drank water and/or milk, and through which I loved making those big and little bubbles, and playing with them.

Sudha Devi Nayak — one moment telescoping into another :

This haiku is a celebration of the transience of the moment that passes even as it is being felt. Bubbles in milk disperse and it will be as though they have never been. The world is transience with one moment telescoping into another, each moment enabling the next, trembling on the edge of time like a dew drop on a  petal.

Though scientists and scholars have their well-researched theories, the universe could have taken shape at any random moment. Perhaps it started with a straw blown in the wind, or with a speck of dust, but however it started, here it is, with its entourage of planets, its constellations, its space called the sky where we make our lives — good or bad, sad or happy — fashioned by an unknown force.

We see transience written in all its shades over the face of the universe: the sun that rises sinks into oblivion at the end of the day; the moon that disappears with the emergence of the dawn; the stars that twinkle as long as the sun is not there. Leaves sprout and wither, flowers bloom and return to the ground. Rivers dry up, mountains erupt, wild fires rage through forests, monuments of men crumble, and “And that inverted Bowl we call The Sky, / Whereunder crawling cooped we live and die”* turns blue, black and red as it will,  “& that & that”  disappears as quickly as it appears, like bubbles blown by a child.  All human life is transient, all “being” fades into ” nothingness.”  Moments of gloom, too, pass, the healing power of time liberates us.  In this universe with its abundance and its transience, we take refuge and seek sustenance of body and soul.

Author Joyce Clement:

I have a childhood memory of encountering a red stinkhorn mushroom in my backyard. I was 6 or 7 years old, and thought the mushroom was the horn of the Devil who was trying to push its way up through the ground.

This memory led me to thinking about creation myths and creation theories, the notion of multiverses, childhood imagination, curiosity, and milk bubbles. The haiku itself emerged whole. It’s meant to be both playful and layered, inviting the reader to muse on the nature of creativity, creator, and the created.

As for the rest of the memory… Acting fast in order to save the world, I stomped on the horn in hopes that it would bend and staple the Devil to the Underworld. I was shocked when the horn just smooshed underfoot exposing a pure white interior. A stapling fail! So I ran like hell to my house and sat at the kitchen table waiting for what I imagined would be a gruesome end. After five minutes or so when the end didn’t arrive, I ate my PB&J, bubbled my milk, and afterwards played with the dog.

Thanks to all who sent commentaries. As the contributor of the commentary reckoned best this week, Sudha has chosen next week’s poem, which you’ll find below. We invite you to write a commentary to it. It may be short, to a maximum of 500 words (succinctness will be valued);  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. Please note that commentaries must be your own personal work.

Poem for commentary:

     
touching me
without touching me
sea breeze
Thomas David
Haiku Foundation Haiku Dialogue
April 15, 2026

Author Bio: 

Footnotes & References: 

Is milk a kigo? In Japanese haiku, cold drinks are a  traditional summer kigo. Boba tea would doubtless  qualify, and maybe cold milk?  This verse feels summery to me, hearkening back as it does  to the amusements of childhood. But I hesitated to characterize it as haiku.

More about Yuki Ishihara’s 1995 keynote address at the Haiku Chicago conference can be found at and beginning on page 50 is the 1997 Frogpond XX Supplement:Frogpond Back Issue

and here:  Patrick Gallagher: Tell About the Truth as if it were False

* Quote from the Rubaiyat of Omar Khayam, translated by Edward Fitzgerald.

re:Virals is co-hosted by Shawn Blair, Melissa Dennison, Susan Yavaniski, and Keith Evetts (managing editor).

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