Nov
clock hands like propeller! ◠‿◠
click pics to ENLARGE 1
Some say that "Love" is the last universal illusion. (Following the Theravada of Gautama Buddha.) My own understanding is that all is well and vairagya is the word. But, then I would, being into seasonal ku (which is more than meets the eye in its original sincerity).
/
wayward
this leaf and I—
detached
C U L T U R E L U D E
1
This idea of being "saved" is a childish notion. Saved from what? Each breath we breath is good enough over nothingness. Surely that is the first shining point.
/
an old bull
sits almost alone-
looking
at the autumn wanderer
up there with no dog
2
Halloween execution-
was that kind
of a joke?
aware for 20 odd minutes,
paralytic in silent screams
\
"Schadenfreude: Delight in another person's misfortune" - WordWeb.
Read the story and, with ku-vision, figure twisted whimsy of executioner's song. . .
The lethal injection, invented in 1977, is designed to kill a patient quickly and painlessly.
The cocktail of drugs used varies from state to state, but generally it contains a barbiturate that induces a deep sleep; a paralysing agent that halts breathing; and potassium chloride, which stops the heart.
However, dosages vary by state, not by inmate; people are given the same dosage regardless of their size. As a result the lethal injection is not necessarily quick or painless, a 2007 study published in PLoS Medicine found. If any of the doses in the injection are off the patient feels pain but also may suffer a slow death by asphyxiation, according to the study.
Molecular biologist Teresa Zimmers of the University of Miami Miller School of Medicine, told the Scientific American at the time: 'This idea that this is a painless procedure is completely wrong. It's just invisible because the person is paralysed.'
3
icy fields,
just wind to extract-
close the gate
4
"The jester could be free when the knight was rigid; and it was possible to be a jester in the service which is perfect freedom." - G K Chesterton, St Francis of Assisi, Chapter V: Le Jongleur De Dieu
/
purrfect!
on its head a leaf-
next door's cat
turns on a sixpence
tail in the air
S U N D A Y L U D E
5
morning glory
on the windscreen
frozen rain
6
that leafy mound
focuses an ancient narrative
where no animals go
living people stand there
but, their dogs decline
7
autumn's cow
alone on a hill
grazes-
the sky
at its feet
A N T I S E X I S M L U D E
7
8
misty forest,
leaves dropping down
as dustbins lids-
God's stinkhorn flies
their footsteps
\
It's all about heightened sensory awareness in a quasi-preternatural locale. Enhanced perception being a function of the latter and, one supposes, visa-versa. In other words, haiku's 'visionary' mode. The actual elements of this tanka's scenario are drawn from two origins. One is a local forest and the other from when I was at art collage ("a long time ago") and exercising an interest in ethnobotanical field studies. These things endure and so, although an apparent pastiche of memory, they function on the edge of The Now. At the edge of The Now it's a question of finding a way through, beyond logics dominion, into cognitive transcendence (satori in motion). "Yugan" (that Nippon aesthetics term for the boundless mystery which envelops all things, as it were, an indigo twilight) deals with this subject generally. So, yugan would be a term worth any reader's research and contemplation. In brief, one can use appropriate elements of the past to enter the increasingly spooky imminence of any present moment. Shamans and suchlike folks use "spooky" to enhance awareness; ordinary citizens tend to regard existential fear as a warning and thus retreat back into the comfort of learned response. We make our choices and place our bets. Sort of thing.
jp
8
\
Bear in mind that the words are there to key a dream. The dream tells all, not the words. To hang on the words is to enjoy a partial aspect of these Nippon poetic forms gone west. To contemplate anything is to finally get it. Only, more so when it's actually a presented intent. It's like when something is lost and we look everywhere. Working through a list. When finally, in resignation, one gives up...BINGO!
Without conscious volition our unconscious directs, more often than not, one's legs to the place and, without conscious thought, the hand reaches out gladly. We forget to remember that this is how it is. Ku, as you know, work along the same lines. When the search for meaning ceases the vision comes as that eureka! moment. Essentially, the original intent is transmitted in virtual identikit.
The last two lines of this tanka are MEANT to be *hesitantly* ambiguous. In the hesitancy the obvious (corpse of deity in the modern world and, also, another corpse back in Palestine 2,000 theoretical winters ago) is optioned. There are other possibilities to explore along tendrils of personal contiguity and cultural reflex. However, there is only one intended meaning. And this is where the discerning audience, in their singularities, return. To the anchor of core intent. When ku forms work in this dynamic manner it is better than being fixed to a defined place, albeit that exists and is the nexus. Added value.
Of course, "butterfly dress" is (resonators and echoes apart) simply summer now morphed to burning leaves (butterfly remains?) on a bone-fire.
An autumnal elegy with supplemental options.
jp
define 9
dawn drips,
fresh undines sit on leaves
all in a dream-
down pipes and gutters
laughing at their joke
D A T A L U D E
\
Creative writing project: 1 Looking
"The first step towards writing well is to train ourselves to notice the world around us. It is only when we have learned to concentrate on what we are receiving through our senses that we can recreate our experiences effectively in words." - V&A
9
PUBLIC HEALTH WARNING
Keibooks Announces Atlas Poetica 13 Now Available
“Poet King, courtesan, leprechaun, child molester, monster. Images bright and dark, full of light and shadow, stretch across the years, the centuries, the millennia. This is what tanka poetry of place does best: to find the ‘Other’ and make it ‘Us.’ It is no longer the bones of strangers lying in the desecrated grave: it is our bones.” –from the editorial by M. Kei
/
"It is our bones.” Not in this life. . .
9
his heart
is a skeleton key
that unlocks doors
that should never
be opened
10
such odds,
this dying leaf
and I-
to briefly decorate time
in a crow's sharp glance
11
dog poop!
one boot is a bush
one boot is a boot—
there should be CCTV
masked as toadstools
12
great view-
some autumn bees
let me off
13
Chinese Water Deer
framed by a ruined gazebo-
Frost Moon
also see 13
Do you think Socrates would have been any good at haiku? Possibly, but hokku - no way! The reason for this is that (as Plato the idealist would have agreed), intuition is not to be sniffed at. The visionary component turns walls into windows and doors into boundless horizons.
/
crows and leaves—
thinks: "a psychedelic mobile
for the girl's girl"
15
The populist aesthetics of ku (or anything) are only slightly deeper (though overlapping) than the instinctive herd's trite innuendo. This is a fact of life. But, that will not stop me writing on all the levels that one is. If mental scientists want to investigate that - fine. No worries whatsoever. lol.
/
myth of horizons,
glances of once upon a time
on a slippy trail—
out here in the wanderland
along Orion's shoulder
—
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