karasu / Ross Clark is the author of 2 chapbooks of haiku and 7 volumes of poetry, and a founding editor publisher of Australia's only haiku journal, Paper Wasp. He is currently creatively unemployed, writing poems, haiku and folksongs during a Brisbane summer.
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7 thoughts on “”
in reading a haiku, i continually ask myself, what is a haiku and it’s (affect).
the haiku is a perception of a phenomena, except it has always been there, though we were not tuned in, or simply too busy to make note of the scene; but, it is never earth shattering. in being at the right place, at the right moment, we see something special, laid out in front of us, not necessarily taking our breathe away, but, stirring up something from within, almost akin to contentment, as we’re treated to a comparison, not so much in the object being perceived as what it is being said to be, but, the entire picture being seen as meaning something else, or something leading to a deeper understanding.
in the reading above, i see a mixture of a metaphor and a simile, through the usage of the word (almost).
i feel, too much is being said.
old man
vegie patch…
birds fly away
does it cause you to search for what’s being said, and possibly seen…
in reading a haiku, i continually ask myself, what is a haiku and it’s (affect).
the haiku is a perception of a phenomena, except it has always been there, though we were not tuned in, or simply too busy to make note of the scene; but, it is never earth shattering. in being at the right place, at the right moment, we see something special, laid out in front of us, not necessarily taking our breathe away, but, stirring up something from within, almost akin to contentment, as we’re treated to a comparison, not so much in the object being perceived as what it is being said to be, but, the entire picture being seen as meaning something else, or something leading to a deeper understanding.
in the reading above, i see a mixture of a metaphor and a simile, through the usage of the word (almost).
i feel, too much is being said.
old man
vegie patch…
birds fly away
does it cause you to search for what’s being said, and possibly seen…
fallen apples splash
sunlight ~ ageing sparrows
scatter fresh melodies ~
the clock repairer
never once i heard
him talk about time
more heat
rubbing my hands together …
sunrise, a blaze of glory
–
Come to see the wonder:
in the scarecrow’s hat
a nest of sparrows
autumn corn field
black birds follow the wind’s sound
light shining bright
one half the globe
darken by the insects inside