Haiku anthologies, January 2011

In this issue of World Haiku Review, we take up three haiku anthologies. One of the effective ways of talking about them is to extract some of those haiku poems which I like very much and which I regard to be excellent examples not only of the author’s works but also of the genre. It is after all the best haiku of any poet that will be remembered and with luck stand the test of time. For some lucky haiku poets the best is derived at a rate of one in a hundred. For others it may be one in a thousand.

[1] From: Inside Out by Christopher Herold

(The details of his anthology at the end of the quoted poems)

writer’s block

the first kernel of popcorn

turns inside out

first light

everything in this room

was already here

first rain

swelling into their frames

the doors of autumn

morning drizzle

my wife bends an orchid

to her will

the muddy path

followed by my dog

follows him inside

windowpane

every raindrop has a light

and a dark side

silence through dinner

salt and pepper figurines

back to back

not quite dawn

someone stops trying

to start a car

bright morning sun

venetian blinds restripe

the tabby

window warmth

flies that came in yesterday

want out

incense smoke…

unperturbed, the mosquitoes

come and go

bell ending zazen

everyone begins to move

except the spider

before we enter

after we leave

the meditation room

elevator silence –

our eyes escape

into numbers

spring meadow

the cows

all bowing

cat sprawled on the porch

I stroke

the warm spring sun

walking the dirt road

she in her rut, I in mine

downpour…

the one sound of so many

surfaces

desert highway –

in the distance, vultures settle

into a mirage

slow rhythm

the cow’s rough tongue

sculpting a salt block

dusk

with nowhere to turn

sunflower

[Some details of this anthology : Inside Out, Christopher Herold, Introduction by Paul David Mena, ISBN 978-I-893959-96-5, 2010, $12, Red Moon Press, USA www.redmoonpress.com ]

[2] From: Peeling an Orange by Peggy Heinrich

(The details of her anthology at the end of the quoted poems)

first day of spring

in pockets of snow melt

tips of white crocus

river bank

clumps of fern bend over

their reflection

deep in the woods

shoots from a fallen redwood

aims for the sun

just knowing

the velvet feel of pansies

without touching

overturned rock

hundreds of ants scurry

in the sudden light

daily walk

magnolia petals

slow my steps

old photos:

my father’s face

younger than mine

summer pond

practicing mindfulness

with this bull frog

raspberry patch –

retracting a scratched arm

and three ripe berries

asleep in the hammock –

a gentle breeze

turns the book’s page

long summer day

thousands of sunflowers

slowly turn west

holding my breath

until the cormorant

resurfaces

upside down snail

righting itself on my palm

over and over

flowering garden

this dry patch

where nothing will grow

carelessly,

brushing away a fly

into a cobweb

around the pond

at each footstep

a frog jumps in

lone heron

staring through its reflection

deep into the pond

heat wave

slowing down

the ticks of the clock

from a sick bed

the empty birdfeeder

longest day

humid afternoon

across the wooden floor

our shadows merge

after the storm

forgetting how the walls shook

summer moon

end of summer

the shape of his feet

in his empty sneakers

ebb tide

turning to look back

at my footprints

half-empty bed

I try to recall

his faults

packing up his clothes

giving away everything

giving away

autumn breeze –

the gliding yellow bird

turns into a leaf

moving day

where the feeder once stood

finches pick at seeds

mountain path –

far below, chimney smoke

blends into the mist

fresh sea breeze

the mimosa he planted

tall enough to wave

seagull

flapping against the wind

then trusting it

late afternoon

these small beach stones

such long shadows

after the concert

music keeps swirling

- autumn wind

November evening

a cushion of moonlight

on his empty chair

snow-covered valley

the sun fills footprints

with shadow

steaming tub bath –

a wipe of the window

reveals whirling snow

long winter night

your hand between my legs

the warmth

frozen puddle

faces on an old front page

stare through ice

family gathering

jigsaw pieces

fall into place

after many months

spreading his ashes…

the lilacs he planted

shrinking snowman

the red wool scarf

loosens its grip

January sunset

putting aside her journal

to peel an orange

around the fire

the widening circle

of silence

[Some details of this anthology : Peeling An Orange: Haiku, Peggy Heinrich, Photographs by John Bolivar, 2009, ISBN 978-1-935398-12-7, $11.95, Modern English Tanka Press, USA www.themetpress.com publisher@themetpress.com ]

The third anthology is one by myself.

Ushizu (Oxford) no Zaregoto by Ryuseki (Susumu) Takiguchi

(The details of his anthology at the end of the quoted poems)

saikai no uzu ni furi-komu hana-fubuki

into the vortices

of the Western Sea, fall

cherry petal drifts

ki-musume no hajirai ni nite hatsu-zakura

the first flowering

of the cherry, somewhat like

a bashful maiden

tanpopo no warai sazameku nani-yue ni

dandelions,

shaking with laughter…

why?

yawarakaku hana mo chirasanu konuka-ame

so soft that

no cherry petals are affected,

Scotch mist…

age-hibari koku itten to naru sokyu ni

becoming a black dot

into the immense blue sky…

a skylark

shira-ume ya nioi toke-komu naya no kabe

white plum blossom…

the fragrance penetrates into

the barn walls

ippen no rakka da ni naki shiba no niwa

in my garden I see

not a single cherry petal

on the green lawn

shundei ya kino no wadachi kyo mo fumu

spring mud…

I am treading the same rut

as yesterday’s

hi ni tsure te maki-agari yuku fuji no hana

everyday

it spirals up,

wisteria

furu-ido ya kawazu tobikomu nigori on

old well…

a frog jumps in

muddy sound

mushi no ne wo haru kiku yoi no indo kana

in India

I found myself listening to crickets

in the spring twilight

olive no ha kara yami e to tobu hotaru

from olive leaves

into darkness, fireflies

fly

hisui-iro Majorca to no natsu no umi

emerald colour…

the summer sea of

Mallorca

ka ni kuware Shakespeare wo miru yo kana

the night of

enjoying a Shakespeare play…

being bitten by mosquitoes

natsu-zora ni oshi-damari taru kyoseki kana

megaliths

under the summer sky

remain silent

shin-jaga ya tsuchi no nioi mo tomo ni kuu

new potatoes…

I eat the smell of

earth, too

sakuranbo saigo no hitotsu yuzuri au

large bowlful of cherries;

you have it, no, you have it,

the last one

ko-usagi no senobi shite kuu natsu no kusa

summer grasses…

baby bunnies nibble at them

standing on tiptoe

ban-ken no osore ononoku hatata-gami

my watchdog,

trembling with fear…

thunder

mezamashi wo tome te ro-o naku wo shiru

I stop the alarm clock

to learn a bush warbler

has been singing

oitsuke ba mata saki ni tobu michi-oshie

each time I catch up

it hops further forward…

a cricket

zenzan no haura hikareru natsu-arashi

the whole mountain

showing the back of leaves glittering…

summer storm

kyaku-ashi no to-noku koten hashiri-zuyu

rainy season starting…

visibly the number of visitors down,

my painting exhibition

tsuyu no yo mo nagaki mono kawa natsu no yoru

this ephemeral life of ours…

nonetheless what a long summer’s night

it is tonight!

hisa-bisa no asobi-gokoro ya kusaya tobu

flying about,

grass arrows in the air…a show of

rare childlike playfulness

hana-yome no kesho nagaruru atsusa kana

alas, the make-up

of the bride running down…

this terrible heat!

mono ni umi hito ni umi taru tsuyu no hibi

weary of things

and weary of human beings…

long rainy days

utsukushiki ojo mimakari natsu hatenu

beautiful princess

has passed away, summer

also ended

ichijo ga tenchi wo tsunagu aki no taki

a single line

connecting heaven and earth…

autumn waterfall

berurin no kabe ni motare te tsukimi kana

leaning against

the Berlin wall, I view

the moon

berurin no seki haraware shi natsu no kaze

the checkpoint

of Berlin gone… the summer wind

passes through

nezumi-ra to yadoru benisu no yonaga kana

long night…

with rodents I am sharing

the hotel in Venice

yasu-yado no ka ni kuware tsutsu tsuki aogu

at a cheap inn,

constantly bitten by mosquitoes

I look up the moon

nowaki kite haidopaaku wa ki no funbo

overnight storm…

The Hyde Park has become

a cemetery of trees

jagaimo no shushoku ni nare-shi waga mi kana

potatoes…

now I am used to them as

my staple diet

kari naite fubo wa kokyo ni tabi-tachi nu

the honking

of flying geese…my parents

have also flown away

shuko ni tsuki shitagai te umi kamome

following

the autumn cultivation…

seagulls

aki kinu to ochi-shi ringo no kazu de shiru

autumn has arrived…

I know that, by the number of

fallen apples

aki take te kyoshi wo ronze-shi issho naru

the height of autumn…

my book has now been published

on Kyoshi Takahama

kotori-ra no kui-nokoshi taru nashi wo kuu

I eat the part

of a pear left unpecked

by the birds

man-getsu ni miokurare tsutsu iku chichi zo

my father

has passed away…watched

by the full moon

haha gokyu ware shinobi-naku yowa no aki

my mother wails,

silently I cry …

autumn evening

neko mo inu mo ichi wo sadame te hekiro kana

my cat and dogs

know their places before

the fireplace

winzaa kojo no moyuru kan no ame

cold rain…

the old castle on fire

at Windsor

seki sure ba kokyo no chichi no oto nari-ki

I cough…

the same sound as my father’s

at home in Japan

fuyu-sobi nakaba hiraki te ite ni keri

winter roses…

half open, and then

got frozen

hatsu-yuki ya keishu sakka no iki shi hi ni

first snow…

fallen on the day Iris Murdoch

passed away

kutsushita no ana wo toshi te kan nokoru

the remaining cold…

I feel it through a hole

of my sock

yasu-uri ya iranu erimaki mata kainu

bargain sale…

I end up in buying yet another

unnecessary scarf

yuki-ore no oto wo kiki tsutsu yomosugara

all through the night

hearing branches breaking …under

the weight of snow

chuzuri ka uite oru no ka fuyu no tsuki

is it suspended

in mid-air, or floating?

the winter moon

haku hodo ni fuki-modori yuku ochiba kana

as I sweep

the fallen leaves

get blown back

kuchi-shi ha wo nozoke ba soko ni kan-sumire

removing a rotten leaf,

I find a winter violet

in bloom

harubaru to tsure-soi-shi kana fuyu urara

warm winter day…

what a long time we

have been together!

hito wo sake kareno ni asobu kodoku kana

avoiding people,

I enjoy being in the withered field…

solitude

shinasete to iware nirami-shi haru no yoi

give me a hug

and let me go…my dying wife asked me;

I just stared into spring dusk

saigo no iki kiitazo tsuma yo haru no yoru

I sure did hear

your last breath, my dear wife…

spring night

sini-gao no uruwashiki kana yowa no haru

how beautiful

your death face is…

the night of spring!

pitiful…

my wife passed away without

viewing cherry blossoms

henderu no kanashiki uta ya shigure-zora

a sad song

by Handel fills

the rainy sky

harusame ya boroboro naku zo kono ware mo

spring rain…

shamelessly I will

cry too

nani kuu mo hitori nomi kawa hana-gumori

whatever I eat,

it’s only one helping…

cloudy day

dasu gomi mo hitori-bun nari haru no asa

even the rubbish,

only from one person…

spring morning

tsuma no ji no reshipi yomitsutsu natsu-ryouri

a summer dish

I cook, following the recipe

in my wife’s handwriting

bosai no koppu ni mo tsugu biiru kana

I pour some beer

into my late wife’s glass

as well

dokugo shite aki saburu niwa shouyo su

autumnal garden…

I take a walk here and there,

talking to myself

hitori-mi ni cho-tokudai no fusuma kaku

all on my own…

I cover myself with

the king-size duvet

samayoe ba tsuma ni aeru ka kiri no naka

if I got lost

would I perhaps meet my wife

in this fog?

fuyu ginga aoge do tsuma wa kaerazaru

I look up longingly

the winter galaxy, but my

late wife never returns

kogoto iu aite koishi ya samuki haru

missing someone

at whom I can grumble…

cold spring

tsure-sote yuku mono mo nashi fuyu no tabi

no one

to accompany me…

my winter journey

haru no no ni tsuma no hai maku waga te kana

my hand,

scattering wife’s ashes…

spring field

himaraya no yama warai ware tsuma omou

the mountains

of the Himalayas look smiling,

as I think of my wife

tsuma koe ba taajimaharu ni haru no tsuki

spring moon

over Taj Mahal, as I

miss my wife

[Some details of this anthology : Ushizu (Oxford) no Zaregoto , or The Twaddle of An Oxonian, Ryuseki (Susumu) Takiguchi, all in Japanese, illustrations by the author, published by The World Haiku Club, Ami-Net Oxford International Press, UK, created and printed by Geibun-do, Sk-i Corporation, Sasebo, Japan, ISBN 978-4-902863-18-5, 200 pp, 2010, Yen 4,500]