Frogpond 32.2 • Summer 2009 (pdf) - Haiku Society of America

Museum of HaikuLiterature Award$100For the best previously unpublished work appearing in thelast issue of Frogpond as selected by vote of the H.S.A.Executive Committee.From Issue 32:1reddening apples—my newborn tries to sucklethe orchard airDejah Leger, Washington. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .4 Haiku Society of America

spring woodnote—the sunburned knuckleson a birdwatchersummer solsticethe chestnut stallionout of his sheathan’ya, Oregondrawing the silencearound me—long winter’s nightlake icethe color of skywinter’s endMarjorie A. Buettner, Minnesotahopscotchthe childrenthe robinsLyle Rumpel, British Columbia. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .6 Haiku Society of America

space contractsto a candle flamelong night moonAnn K. Schwader, Coloradodappled dawn twin fawnsMarsh Muirhead, MinnesotaIn the rock wombThe poem-writing candleExpires(Iwabune Jinja, Osaka, 21.12.08)Tito, Japansunrise . . .the male pheasantowns the roadAlice Frampton, Washingtonjust noticingthe countless scratches—wedding bandMichael Blaine, Delaware. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .10 Haiku Society of America

Moonflower tuckedunder my chin. Wind buriesseeds slick with waiting.Jessica Reidy, Irelandtransparent skyscraperthe elevatorto the moonDietmar Tauchner, Austriasilencein the elevatora whiff of durianBob Lucky, Chinatrade-in lother dream catcher lefton the rear viewDan Schwerin, Wisconsinwinter treesseeing the crowthe caw belongs toGregory Hopkins, Alabama. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Frogpond 32:2 11

I whisper—fluent inbutterflyyellow shirt—his favoritei become lace sunFaith-Anne Bell, Marylandcaught in a rundownbetween first and second— a pickle —John Bessler, Minnesotaan empty neston my father’s tombstonetwo blue egg shellsRobert Moyer, North Carolinaold canvas—california poppiesflake from daffodilsLorin Ford, Australia. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Frogpond 32:2 13

slap and tugof bedsheets on the line—jury summonsRuth Yarrow, Washingtonone small childwraps the roomful of adultsin laughtera smiling dreamwoke me this morningwhere did it go?Doris H. Thurston, Oregonthe densityof philosophycherry blossomsMichael Fessler, Japancanebreak—hank of mosstrapping sunlightCharles Bernard Rodning, Alabama. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .14 Haiku Society of America

lenten moon—the bottomless criesof hatchlingsmorning star—the newborn’s fontanelpulses softlyNora Wood, Georgiadeep parts of the puddle left— — —our last day walkingnear these mountainsGary Hotham, Marylandeach set of eyeswatches the skirtbarber’s mirrorGreg Piko, Australiaboiling maple syrupwood smoke fadinginto evening fogMark Alan Osterhaus, Wisconsin. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .16 Haiku Society of America

lunch hourlobsters duelin the tankJeremy Pendrey, Californiausing his tootbrushOh dear Godin love again!grey drone of the docentyellow brillianceof van Gogh’s sunflowersAudrey Olberg, Marylandover Mt. Rainierlenticular clouds,I file a memoryWilliam Scott Galasso, Washingtonlast night’s dream—cobwebs dangle in ashaft of sunJack Barry, Massachusetts. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Frogpond 32:2 17

morning chill—crow’s feet clatteron the tin gutterthe baby’s headsoft and warmspring darknessA.C. Missias, Pennsylvaniaglorious eulogythe birth ofa family mythMuriel Ford, Ontariorecalling a childhoodof sexual abuse . . .her voice grows youngerTom Tico, Californiathe flooda mail boxred flag upRobert Mainone, Michigan. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .18 Haiku Society of America

a torn leafblows inwith himSusan Marie La Vallee, Hawaiiobituarya face addedto his radio voicethe same Bach piecethe same feelingsI had back thenAnne LB Davidson, Maineold garden blocks—their grit softenedby green mossJoan Murphy, New Yorksuch a long winterparsley shoots just visibleunder snow crystalsJean Jorgensen, Alberta. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Frogpond 32:2 19

after the stormcaught in the fencedriftwoodNaomi Madelin, New Zealandplane vaporszig zagwithout a messageDeborah Dunn, New Jerseydim elevatorthe song I never expectedto mean a thingCathy Drinkwater Better, Marylandspring snowgone as youget dressedJohn Martone, Illinoisfirst day of springearly tulips holdmelting snowMarilyn Murphy, Rhode Island. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .20 Haiku Society of America

ten licks heretwelve there—sun bathing catJohn Holt, Japanshooting starsthe incoming tidetouches our feetLynne Steel, Floridaarrested by the evening air’s magnolia scent my monkey mindwaking tothe shimmer of a wetdreamEve Luckring, Californiatoday’s plans—a maple leaf driftsin a new directionSusan Constable, British Columbia. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Frogpond 32:2 21

I readmy husband’s mind—the summer windyear’s endthe oven mittslightly charredPeggy Willis Lyles, Georgiain the pawnshopwe haggle oversomeone else’s childhoodDan McCullough, Massachusettsrainthe tumbleweed’sstillnessMargarita Engle, Californiaearth day—the river gives upanother tireJohn Soules, Ontario. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .22 Haiku Society of America

winter night—moving the bookmarkto another bookI sleep with heror she sleeps with meautumn equinoxJohn Stevenson, New Yorkno betrayaljust a bitter cold morningin AprilBonnie Stepenoff, Missourispring crescentthe gnawing in the wallgrows louderlace cap hydrangeasa soft breeze rufflesthe dead chickadee’s wingCarolyn Hall, California. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Frogpond 32:2 23

disappointment hits me like a fatherR.P. Carter, Ontariocherry budsthe neighborhood girli never noticed beforeStephen A. Peters, Washingtongodwits returnto the beach—bells pealLyall Clarke, New Zealandafter the tornadomy wind chimes ringingfrom a neighbor’s treeJohn J. Dunphy, Illinoisduckduckingits ripplesPatrick M. Pilarski, Alberta. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .24 Haiku Society of America

the great horned owlstops hootinga murder of crowsRaffael de Gruttola, Massachusettspigeons flock into the coopa white feathersailing elsewhereElizabeth Howard, Tennesseeflashing facesthe night trainI’m not onLinda Jeanette Ward, North Carolinarapeseed field the dress my mother never woreClare McCotter, Irelandthe encore—jazz band riffswith katydidsCarolyn Coit Dancy, New York. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Frogpond 32:2 25

unexpected snowthe sound of waterabout to boila falling leafrises on the wind . . .againBill Kenney, New Yorkthe pungent sprayof next door’s ginger tom—camellias openingtight applause of secateurs weevil holocaustJohn Sexton, Irelandclimbing the hilla cicada shellon every battenSandra Simpson, New Zealand. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .26 Haiku Society of America

hangover . . .out-of-date condimentsrattle in the fridgeColin Jones, Scotlandforsythia—vase of branches and budsforcing springEric Arthen, Massachusettsthat moment at nightwhen no dogsare barkingCarlos Colón, Louisianabare maplemy daughter saysshe’ll come backYu Chang, New Yorkold growth daisiesloves menotFrancine Banwarth, Iowa. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Frogpond 32:2 27

stretched thinin the yellowstone wintera coyote’s howlWanda D. Cook, Massachusettssidewalk crack—forgivingmy motherGeorge G. Dorsty, Virginiaopen casket:the kissthat used to wake youRaquel D. Bailey, Floridabriefly the heron’s catch shaping its gulletJeff Stillman, New Yorkafter 40 years . . .still the dreams ofbeing lateDiane Mayr, New Hampshire. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .28 Haiku Society of America

ifocals i step into the gapdinner partycandle light gleamsfrom knife bladesKaren Peterson Butterworth, New Zealandthe last raysthe steering wheel turnswith the red tail hawkmanhole steamtwo men with briefcasesfrom the other worldChuck Brickley, Californiavapor rises from the fence i try to forget herw.f. owen, California. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Frogpond 32:2 29

leaves too smallto touch each otherspring chillBurnell Lippy, New Yorka spider on the other sideof the windowpanelonely nightCollin Barber, ArkansasOn the pileof ungraded papersa fly cleaning its legsDavid Elliot, Pennsylvaniabetweenthe crow and the caw:an arc of lightningMichele Root-Bernstein, Michigandog days—on the road mender’s arma sweaty dragonRafal Zabratynski, Poland. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .30 Haiku Society of America

mother’s bone chinathings we speak ofthings we don’tnothing more to say—what’s left of the soupthickens in the potHarriot West, Oregonevening calma chink of moonlightacross my baby’s cheekcloudwatching . . .my son’s small handcurled in mineVanessa Proctor, Australiaafter jarring me awake,the professor’s voicelulls me back to sleep.David Rosenthal, California. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Frogpond 32:2 31

asking answeringgoldfinches move deeperinto the treesheat lightningthe lost lyricto a long ago songJoyce Clement, Connecticutanniversary breakfastblooming morning glorieshug their trellisErik Linzbach, Arizonawild strawberriesthe kissthat never happenedTanya McDonald, Washingtonplucking a white hairfrom my eyebrowcrescent moonEileen Sheehan, Ireland. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .32 Haiku Society of America

my skipping stone its moment in the sunsudden cloudburst—Mona Lisa in chalkturns expressionistScott Mason, New Yorkat the end of the rainbowatmeeting the in-lawsrain & snowtogether for a dayLeRoy Gorman, Ontarioowisteria pods p p spring sunRenée Owen, California. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Frogpond 32:2 33

making sheep jump sleepless synapsesChristopher White, Englandcarrying the oystercatchers carrying their cries the autumn windredwings on the fringes of the henge midwinter windJohn Barlow, EnglandLeaving the Cro-Magnon grin on the river I pack my campPaul Pfleuger Jr., Taiwancrypt inscriptions half-lit yawn mistyFrancis Attard, Malta. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .34 Haiku Society of America

your arms around mewhite butterfliesdance togethermountain glena clear burn burblesthrough birdsongKatrina Shepherd, Scotlandskinny dippingher perfect swan divecaught in headlightsKaren Reynolds, Massachusettsgoldrush sitebuttercupsin the long grassNola Borrell, New Zealandcarnival midway—above the ring tossthe full moonAdelaide B. Shaw, New York. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Frogpond 32:2 35

turning the ideaover and oversmooth river stoneStacey Poston, North Carolinabuds openingwe don’t know howto pronounce ParisScott Metz, Oregonlate autumn . . .a lone hootthrough the hollowwhat doesn’t kill you Chicago in winterChristopher Patchel, Illinoisgarden whispers . . .the air heavywith magnoliaDeborah P. Kolodji, California. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .36 Haiku Society of America

My slow dyingacross a lifetimehalts, at baby’s cryHis empty shoesside by sideneatly aloneAlice Mae Ward, Massachusettsriverbank mud—so still, the waterin my footprintsMark Arvid White, Alaskaspring cleaning—your head mark on the wallsmall comfort nowthe boats sail out—this emptinessleft behindH.F. Noyes, Greece. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Frogpond 32:2 37

Revelations: UneditedPoets and Editors: Some Thoughts about Bothby Marian Olson, New Mexico“It takes two to speak the truth—one to speak, and another to hear”—ThoreauEarly on when I first began submitting work to editors, I consideredthem formidable and alien. They either honored mywork with acceptances or they dishonored it with rejections.Poems I thought were good, they rejected. Poems I wasn’tsure of, they took. Their responses were unpredictable. I receivedtheir opinions personally and sometimes with puzzlement,but always with the idea that they were the unassailablearbiters of good, great, and bad poetry. My poetry failed orpassed according to some mysterious absolute that they wereprivy to, and I wasn’t.Time and experience changed my perspective. For a while Ico-edited The Writer’s Block, the poetry journal of AntelopeValley College. I learned on the job about the work involved,as well as the arbitrary and subjective choices an editor makes.It was not an easy task to wade through piles of poems andchoose which ones would make the cut for the upcoming issueand which ones wouldn’t. It wasn’t easy to assuage damagedegos or temper the occasional self-importance of some whosepoems were accepted. Working with poets and their poemswas only a part of our responsibilities. We also had the taskof layout and design while we labored to meet deadlines—all this in addition to our professional and personal lives.Thus, I learned that the job of editor has the heart of a tyrant,ignoring personal needs for relaxation—space to play, ruminate,or write. It has no tolerance for sloth or error, demanding accuracywith detail. It offers no monetary reward for all the timeand effort involved. Its motto would seem to be serve me, slave.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .38 Haiku Society of America

Why, then, would anyone choose to become an editor?Some editors are invited into the position and accept the rolebecause they feel a responsibility to continue the legacy ofa respected editor. Some step into the role because for onereason or another, it becomes available, and someone mustfill the position. Some simply want to create a new journalwith a new voice, offering a different view among the many.Some take on the role because they seek control, power, orinfluence. Whatever the motivation, most are discriminateand able to say no to a poem even when it comes from someonewell known, culling submissions until they have a goodselection of poetry to present in their respective journals. Nomatter the reason for the decision to assume the editorship ofa poetry journal, all of these editors have a passion for poetry.Every poet who has published—even those who haven’tpublished yet—has had a variety of experiences with editors.I have worked with some of the best and some of the worst,real nightmare editors, editors who are rude and egotistical;editors who are sloppy with the submitted material, losingsubmissions and making unbelievable excuses; disorganizededitors who are unable to locate a submission when asked;editors who take an inordinate amount of response time,thereby denying the poet a chance to seek another outletfor the work; editors who have a compulsion to rework thepoet’s poem (one who did that to me failed to notify me ofthe changes before publishing “his poem”); and editors whofeel compelled to make stabbing remarks when nothing morethan a canned rejection slip would have been necessary.On the other hand, I have known editors that seem to havedropped out of editor heaven, men and women who selflesslywork to create the best journal of poetry available. I can thinkof at least five in my lifetime of publishing. Of those, one wasa vigilant protector of his stable of poets, a conscientious andfierce watchdog of his poetic turf. Once, he sent back a batchof poems with a short and humorous comment that he felt he. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Frogpond 32:2 39

had to protect my reputation, and thus regretfully had to rejectthe submission. I loved the comment, which made me laughand mentally thank him, even though I didn’t agree with hisassessment (later, some of those very poems were picked up bytwo different editors, something poets discouraged by rejectionsmay like to remember). Another editor actually writes kindnotes in response to the accepted and rejected poems. This isfar and above what any poet expects, especially consideringthe massive work each editor deals with, but this poet becamea loyal contributor to his journal as a result of the practice.I know another editor who carefully hones his journal until eachissue is a polished gem. How does he get such quality materialfrom journal to journal? He is efficient and organized, a personwith a sensitive nature and keen intelligence who has carefullypulled together a likeminded team. He takes time to know hispoets, and he is respectful. Another of these five outstanding editorsis a fine poet himself—actually, all of them I’ve mentionedwrite venerable poetry. Working to make his journal the best, heseeks feedback; then incorporates workable suggestions. This isthe kind of editor that poets want to support with their best work.Out of all the editors I have worked with, one became a mentor,a role neither of us would have imagined in the beginningof our relationship, nor a role either of us consciously soughtElizabeth Searle Lamb, later dropping her middle name andreferring to herself as Elizabeth Lamb, was Frogpond editorfrom 1984 to 1991, and then once again for one year in 1994.Before taking on that mantle, she was one of the original smallband of haiku pioneers in the United States who helped shapethe haiku movement in the West. Although an outstandingpoet, she was a natural editor, cut out to do the exacting workdemanded by the job. She didn’t know the meaning of rudeor arrogant because she was by nature self-effacing and polite.Nevertheless, she had a perceptive editorial eye, passing overany poem that didn’t meet her standard of excellence. Shetook time to correspond with poets who submitted to thejournal and sought her comments. A rejection slip from her. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .40 Haiku Society of America

ecame a teaching tool. She wrote short notes and sometimeslonger ones that revealed who she was and what sheexpected, so that little by little poets came to trust her andappreciate that she had their interest at heart. More than oneof us have known the power and warmth of her pen, and rememberwith a smile her concluding words “In Haiku joy”before she sealed an envelope or added a stamp to a postcard and slipped it into the mailbox at the end of her drive.The day we finally met face to face, we sat under the greenshade of a gnarled apricot tree in her comfortable adobe patio.She served ginger cookies and tea that hour, the first ofmany we would share through the years to come. We talkedabout haiku, New Mexico, ourselves. She was a good listener,a sounding board for all the questions and ideas I hadnever shared with the other editors. I talked so much I embarrassedmyself and told her so. With a wave of her handshe dismissed my comment, saying, “No, no, no. You makeme feel good.” She made me feel good too. It was on thatvisit that I told her about my passion for chickens and roosters.“That’s a book, Marian,” she said, “You must write it.” Ireturned to California and wrote Songs of the Chicken Yard, apoetry book that has achieved some acclaim. I wrote two haikubooks and one haiku manuscript with her encouragement.Several years later after moving to Santa Fe, New Mexico, Ivisited Elizabeth whenever I could. She lived in the historicarea of the small capitol city, down a twisty road shaded withgiant elms and cottonwoods, a road cut by early trail horsesand wagons. It was a short walk to her blue front gate, softenedwith whorls of blue morning glories in summer and snow inwinter. Her blue door would swing open any time of the year,and her large blue eyes shine with welcome. (I was one of manyhaiku poets who made a pilgrimage to her unpretentious adobehome to meet her and visit.) She prepared Earl Gray tea thenand served it with a small plate of cookies before settling downto visit in her small living room with its oversized low teakchest topped with books and magazines and writing pads.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Frogpond 32:2 41

We studied the latest haiku journals, discussing the essaysand poems. We wrote some renga together. Weshared poems of others we loved, and sometimes offereda draft of a haiku we were pulling together to get a candidresponse. She sent me home with rare poetic treasures tostudy, classic out-of-print books and volumes of the firsthaiku journals. Little by little she was shaping me withoutintention or goal. I learned to trust my muse because of her.She had become a mentor. To think of herself as a mentor wouldhave amazed her. Free-spirited, intuitive, and generous, sheshared her genius with me, as well as with hundreds of other poetsin her long and productive life. Elizabeth Lamb was unique,and remains to this day, my idea of the quintessential editor.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .42 Haiku Society of America

RengayAt The SeasidebyRafal Zabratynski, PolandCollin Barber, Arkansasgentle wavesa stick rocksup and downcigarette buttsamidst the shellsstroll for twothe evening breezepilfers her scentshoreline calming—a puddle of sunlighton the jellyfishan empty beachif not for me?lull of tides—I stare at the sunwith my eyes closed. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Frogpond 32:2 43

lost kaleidoscopebyJohn Thomspon, CaliforniaChuck Brickley, Californiashards of colored glassbattered smooth by the wavesa change of heartpacifi c sunsetif only I could see you againhalf-closed poppiesover inlet and bluffsalt mists driftto forgivethe unforgivinga yellow iceplant bloompurple starfish and teenssplashed by moonlit wavesdawn gleamsamongst the piled driftwoodbroken bottles. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .44 Haiku Society of America

Trillium Lights The Forest FloorbyCarolyn Hall, CaliforniaBillie Wilson, Alaskadaybreaktrillium lightsthe forest floorbeached kayaksa shimmer of willowssunglint from the creekthe alder leavesgreenerafternoon shadowsall through the orchardripening applesin the midst of the sunsetthe bashoowlsongmountain pines glistenunder the moon. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Frogpond 32:2 45

Tan RengabyLinda Jeanette Ward, North CarolinaEva Taylor, Marylandbare black branchesbalance a heavy moonin the predawn skythe face of a prostitutethrough barred windowsbyJohn Edmond Carley, EnglandHortensia Anderson, New Yorkfalling softlythrough this emptinessthe thought of snowtthe shape of our wordsfixed in frosted breathbyChristopher Herold, WashingtonRon Moss, Australiatractor idlingthe last bright starfades into dawnmother’s best corn cakeswarming with her song. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .46 Haiku Society of America

SequencesBushfire 2009byQuendryth Young, Australiaroar of the windflaming leaves flytree to treehelicopter—a water bomb startlesthe possumsmoke-raw throatscall out to neighbours—cat in a basketbreathless air . . .a small child clutchesher dollrefuge—the hug of a strangerunleashes the tearsendless hillsof blackened trunks—body bagsthe gleamof a mangled trinket—household rubbleashes to ashes . . .through the husha bird calls. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Frogpond 32:2 47

Yoga At Pura Vida: Costa RicabyMargaret Chula, Oregonmorning breezepulse of watersmell of cow manureholding the pose longerhummingbirdat the hybiscushow flexiblethe Brahmin bullsnuzzling their own backsthe different colorsof water over rocksrusset-backed squirrelsolo yogagiving myself permissionto bend my kneesafter the posesand the AUMsin the hammocksavasana. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .48 Haiku Society of America

HaibunChristmas 1996by Marjorie A. Buettner, MinnesotaChristmas eve, a full moon casts a shadow as deep and asblue as an ocean at night, a foreign blue from out of a dreamlandscape which I cannot identify but which looks so familiar.Not another like it on Christmas eve, says my husband, until2104. We hang tenuously over the edge of the bed like sailorsover the railing—straining to glimpse a future that is not oursto see, while a ground breaking cold and a strange blue lightfrom a distant moon change everything.Christmas day—the gift I would have givenif you were still hereFamily Portraitby Lynn Edge, TexasThe flat-bottomed boat nudges the shore. My grandson stands onthe roof deck with my daughter and her husband. When the tourguide announces we are near the Lopstick family of WhoopingCranes, I leave the glassed interior and walk to the bow.The male is twenty-nine years old; the female twenty-eight,both near the end of their natural life. They are called theLopsticks after their nesting area in Canada. With them are twojuveniles. Only one in ten Whoppers raise both chicks and I amlooking at the Lobstick twins. My daughter and her family stillstand on the top deck and I hesitate to climb the ladder.pressing togetherfor the camera—my fake smile. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Frogpond 32:2 49

Backyard Pond, Brocaded Carpby Lisa Cihlar, WisconsinMy daily yard and garden tour. I carry fish pellets to the pond. Mylargest gold and black koi has died. The local raccoon got othersby feeling behind rocks and in crevasses with paws that looklike tiny desiccated human hands. He didn’t get this one. I knowbecause there are no half-eaten fish parts scattered in the grass.This fish just died, old age, some fish disease that I can’t fathom.It floats on the surface now, half-sheltered by a water-lily leaf,almost mistaken for a flower-bud. I scoop the body up in myhand, feel the roll of maggots under scales. I recoil, send it backinto the water and the dozen living carp of many colors cometo feast on the larvae, a free-floating meteor shower.Grant Park Jazz Galadragonflies swirl up, overimprovisationGod jul et godt nytt årby Bob Lucky, ChinaIn the margins of your Bible you penciled in comments inNorwegian. The writing is strong—the lines flow like theengravings on old Viking swords. You only taught me how tosay “Merry Christmas and Happy New Year” in your mothertongue, so your annotations are meaningless to me, as is theBible. I comfort myself by believing that when we die we gowherever we think we’re going. I’ll be staying here.prairie skya passing cloud turnsthe color of lefse. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .50 Haiku Society of America

Genomeby Michael Kiella, MichiganToday I walked shin-deep into wild grasses at the old farmstead:past the crumbling brick foundations and down thepath to where the barns once stood. These many years later,I can still find the turn where, through grass and bramble, theold orchard still blooms. Coming upon it, I see the damagethat fodder-hungry rabbits did to sweet-bark this past winter.I imagine a different time, a different spring. I imagine thosewhom I’ve never met that, by mortgage or deed once ownedthis orchard; the peach, pear, and apple trees.bees fly in circleschoosing at the speed of flighton which bloom to landToday, as it happens, my walking is one step real, the otherimaginary. I consider different days . . . the faces and lives ofthose now gone, either by death or circumstance, who prunedand cared for this orchard, who picked its sweet harvest. Thetruth of it now: the few remaining trees still blossom in pink andwhite. I imagine children taking make-believe picnics betweentheir father’s orchard rows. My thoughts are of secret loversblanketed in tall summer grass between those rows of trees. Ithink of soft sweet bellies: naked, pink and white. I think ofthe ovaries inside . . . and of peach blossoms. I consider thelongevity of genome and the brevity of blossom.peach blossomall orchards to comepeach’s past. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Frogpond 32:2 51

memento moriby Roberta Beary, District of Columbiaeach of us owns something that carries with it the weight ofnostalgia. the coffee cup that says made in occupied japan on itsbase. the sepia photo of sturdy ancestors that sits off center on themantel. the tattered book with its flyleaf inscription that readsto joe for excellence in effort signed sister aloysius, june 1907.often the weight of these inherited family relics drags us down.yet still we wonder who will remember us after we are gone aswe sign our name in another book and date it with a flourish.bonedrymother’s handin mineBlue in the Distanceby Barbara Strang, New ZealandIt’s just a short stroll from my sister’s flat in Wellington to thetop of Mt. Albert. Since I started the course this is my first sightof the South Island. I am struck by these two large mountains,blue in the distance, which I recognise as Tapuaenuku of theInland Kaikouras, and to the left, Mt. Fyffe of the SeawardKaikouras.It hits me—they can also be seen from my home in the SouthIsland. From the beach the faraway Kaikouras pierce thenorthern horizon. At this very moment you could be walkingthe dog, you could be looking at the other side of the mountain,and thinking of me.Tapuaenukuthe glacierstreams downAuthor’s Note: Tapuaenuku—strictly Tapu-o-Uenuku, in one interpretation,footsteps of the rainbow (Maori).. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .52 Haiku Society of America

In High Countryby Carol Pearce-Worthington, New YorkI am not too proud to ask for a tame horse. A quiet horse. Agentle, very small, obedient, and polite horse. Lightning iswhite; her eyes rimmed with pink. Ten of us ride single fileup steep mountain paths, our horses picking their way likemodels on a runway: one foot precisely in front of the other;a slow, painstakingly stomach lurching, don’t look down, willit ever end climb. From some plateau, we can see for miles:Yellowstone’s whipped cream peaks across the vastness.Lightning pretends to be asleep, but as I remount, she strollsaway, leaving my foot in mid arabesque over the saddle. Atlast toward dusk, a meadow appears, the wranglers locate aspring, they raise our tents. For a toilet, they dig a hole beneatha pine. The horses are set free to roam. I don’t care ifI ever see Lightning again. My straw cowboy hat resemblesa soggy English muffin, sitting is out of the question, andmy legs feel permanently bowed. Around the campfire wesing “I’m an Arizona cowboy.” The sky holds so many stars.high country—the horses steamin summer snowLongingby Harriot West, OregonIt wasn’t your normal now-the-guests-are-leaving goodbyehug—two bodies leaning in at oblique angles, patting eachother awkwardly on the shoulder. No, this was a grab-you-hardand-pull-you-closeembrace, the kind that leaves you thinking,long after the party, about a man you barely knew with a raspin his voice and Titian-colored hair.deep winterI hold a pomegranate seedto the light. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Frogpond 32:2 53

the last pair of socksby w.f. owen, Californiadad left me threadbare at the heels warm comfortable holdingtight around my calves so i’m not always pulling them up anddarned if they don’t fit even though he stood more than half afoot taller a fact made clear that day i helped with his coffineveryone around the house says throw them away it’s beenyears but i don’t wear them out only to sleep in and they fita raindrop falls through a hole in the leafBalmoral Beachby Vanessa Proctor, AustraliaI sit down on a bench looking out across the harbour to theHeads. It’s a beautiful winter’s day with blue skies and a hintof a breeze. My baby is asleep in her pram beside me. FinallyI can write. There’s a simple joy in sitting and observing theworld: the clang of scaffolding going up behind me, two tradesmencatnapping on the sand, the rustle of paper sandwich bags,a pair of plovers striding along the water’s edge, a swimmer inthe shallows, the sun warming my skin. Some of these observationswill evolve into poems, some won’t.a free afternoonthe way wind movesover water. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .54 Haiku Society of America

The Family Treeby Karen Peterson Butterworth, New ZealandThere’s a sharp autumn chill in the air when our party sets outfor the family tree. Tui pushes my wheelchair to the end of thewide track, then I walk using my elbow crutch. Whenever mylegs and shoulder grow sore, I find a wet, moss-covered stumpand sit down, and the others lean against trees around me.forest floor fragrancethe fluting songof a bellbirdWe reach the mark that tells us where to leave the path. It’s arusting preserving jar lid Dad nailed up 50 years ago when hechose the tree he wanted to nourish after his death. Our familytree is approximately 200 years old, with a straight grey trunkand dark green needles that hang in the rimu’s characteristicweeping form. Situated deep in the bush reserve Dad helpedprotect, it will live for hundreds more years. We stand in silencewhile Mirren re-carves the initials on its trunk. GMP 1970, EAL1973, JRP 1977, PEM, FEMP, and KSP a year before Beth.Now the new initials: FBM. Everyone except Mum and Dadyounger than I am now.my sister’s ashesdrop into faint grey—last trace of our brotherWe toast Beth’s life with rum and port wine—her favourite reviverwhen she went tramping. We feel her presence among us,with all the others whose minerals rise in the sap of our familytree. On the way back Tui’s partner piggybacks me along thefinal stretch to my wheelchair.old womanbounces along a bush trackon young legs. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Frogpond 32:2 55

Netley Marsh Poemsby Patrick M. Pilarski, AlbertaPelicansOur boat cuts through brown water, leaving a slow grooveto tickle the marsh grass. The reeds map a warren of hiddenchannels—shallow tracts of mud. Around every corner isa pelican. As we approach, they turn, one by one, beat softthunder on the water. Rise on world-heavy wings to join themotion of the sky.Heronsbroken clouds—a carp slidesbetween the weedsFrom the waterline, the marsh goes on forever, grey sky tracedby the sharp tips of cattails and migrant bamboo. Our channelnarrows into the shade of trees—a small ridge perched abovethe water line, a tight serpentine between the snags. Then, inan instant, the rain comes. Drops hammer the water. I see aheron break free from the bank, fold into itself, become thewhisper of wings.Carpa bowl of sky thunderheads crossing the marshBlackbirds and kingbirds line the branches of dead trees. Saggingwith each other’s weight, dragonflies mate only inchesabove lead-smacked waves. The boat engine slows and we coastto a dead end. Pale bellies boil in brown water. The surfaceparts, ripples replaced with the hungry, anxious, mouths of carp.between treesthe sagging arcof a pelican’s glide. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .56 Haiku Society of America

Day Outby Diana Webb, England“He always carried a pencil in his hand while travelling.”Sketches by Turner are on display with watercolours, some not“finished.” Many delineate buildings. One is mere brushstrokeof some chance trick of air. All natural light from the brightwinter’s day blocked out from the room to prevent more lossof his precious hues, some newly discovered as pigments in hislifetime. Prussian and Cobalt blue. Viridian. Surfaces scratchedwith his right thumbnail to let spots of light shine through.Two small boys with their teacher are having a go at copying hiswork, as he was once prompted to copy the work of others.“Which one shall I draw?”“You’ve got just five more minutes. Then we’ll need toleave.”Downstairs, in the gift shop, more schoolkids are gatheringsouvenirs before the coach arrives. They count out spendingmoney, pick up postcards, swarm in a disordered queue aroundthe harrassed merchandise attendant.“Do you have any more pencils like this one please?”bare willowsspiderthe fading sky. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Frogpond 32:2 57

Parallel Linesby Angelee Deodhar, IndiaIn eight decades only one Indian film has captured the world’simagination, a glitzy portrayal of poverty within which liesthe poignant side of this country’s dilemma, the unwanted,unwashed, unfed children foraging with vermin for the dregsof a meal. For this the film won eight Oscars.At the same ceremony, a documentary about an Indian girlwitha congenital deformity also won acclaim when a team ofdedicated philanthropists restored her smile. The confused buthappy parents are shown cuddling a shy little girl who clingsto her mother’s sari, wondering why so many cameras arepointed at her. There was a time no one would play with herin her village . . . today she has new clothes, new friends. Theair is thick with the shouts of the paparazzi.How will one slum dog help the hungry children eking out anexistence besides the railway lines?hawk’s shadowthe songbird’s trillsuddenly shortened. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .58 Haiku Society of America

new blood of autumnB. Ellis Williams, Oregontwilight in the cemetery. a storm is brewing on the northernhorizon—lightning strikes, but the sky is silent. wind stirsgently in the oak trees high above.i remember a cold autumn night in this cemetery, coming tomeet her in secret, after not having seen her for months. i recallthe short walk, which seemed to last forever, from the houseon b st. in the pitch-black darkness; the feeling of the comingrain. and i remember the knot inside my stomach, seeing hersilhouette, poised among the headstones in the distance likesome strange, lost character in a shadow theatre. and slowly,as a cold autumn wind blew in against us: taking her delicatebody in my arms . . .the fall is coming now. phantoms rise, electrified, and filled withrestive sorrow. will the dust of this life ever settle?from behind the storm clouds:evening sunlight—a single drop of rainWidow Makerby Renée Owen, CaliforniaA demon wind howls across the front porch, rattling the glassdoors and windows of the old cabin. Another storm blowingin off the Pacific. Waves churn to froth in the deep, dark night.Light from a single lamp pools on the pages of a book I nolonger see. My mind curls inward, plays tricks. A vision of myselfslowly drifting down the years on the tide, cold and alone.far from homemissing himbefore he’s gone. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Frogpond 32:2 59

Jardins Du Luxembourgby Aurora Antonovic, Ontario and Yu Chang, New YorkAs we walk around the gardens, tears stream down her face asshe retells the horrors she endured at her ex-husband’s hands.Again, I place both arms around her and repeat what I hopewill be comforting words, to no avail.mid-parkwhere the old oakused to beAs we walk around the gardens, tears stream down his faceas he retells the horrors he had to endure at home. Again, Iplace both arms around him and repeat what I hope will becomforting words, to no avail.old scarhow carefullyhis touches my handThe Huntby Shelly Chang, CaliforniaA chunk of ice thuds against the plate glass window. The holein my stocking escapes to a run. I am stuck in my seat. Theinterviewer goes over company rules: six day workweek, noInternet access, no fooling around. From the gray cubicles, asteady patter of keystrokes sounds. The next job-seeker adjustsher sober-colored suit. Did I dream those better days in tie-dyesand aprons, when the kitchen filled with laughter, and breaddough got twisted into turtles? Skyscraper security checks myphoto; I look to see if I have kept my soul.wild windsevery wing beat countsto keep the bird in place. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .60 Haiku Society of America

The Virgin River Gorgeby Deborah P. Kolodji, CaliforniaTwists, turns, and more twists. Sheer cliffs tilted sideways, withcrooked striations of bedrock. I-15 takes a convoluted turn on theway to St. George, Utah from Las Vegas. A detour through Arizona.hair pin curvesgray cliffs festoonedwith rock ribbonsCarved out by a tributary of the Colorado River, the gorgeslices through mountains. Impossible steep walls are lacedwith exposed bedrock. Rock layers fall at odd angles. Subtlepinks and yellows layered with gray hint of the rock rainbowsof Utah on the road ahead.staticon the radio . . .guitar riffsGrowing Upby Adelaide B. Shaw, New YorkThe teenage girl sits on the café stool and orders a latté and amuffin. A pretty face, smooth and rosy, long light brown hairsilky like a cocker spaniel’s. Her short tee-shirt rides up higheras she moves her arms. Her tight jeans slip lower, lower, revealinginches of flesh and a peek at where the flesh divides.She chats on her cell phone. No pausing to swallow her muffin.Bite, talk, swallow, talk, drink . . . So much to say. So muchto hear. All the news. Hurray. Pass it on.a gull in flightthe speed of its diveto snare a fish. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Frogpond 32:2 61

EssaysRenhai, a New Verse Formby Vaughn Seward, AlbertaRenhai is a new short verse form that consists of three themedhaiku verses typically written by two writers. The final resultis similar to the first three verses of a rengay with each of thethree verses having one or more common themes. Renku-likelinks exist between each verse, including between the first andthe last.When Garry Gay conceived of the idea of rengay in 1992, hewanted a simpler, shorter form of renku. Six verses seemedlong enough to be interesting, but not so long that readerswould grow tired of reading them. He also wanted simplerrules that provided the writers with a little more freedom [seeGay, G. & Thompson, J. The Unlocked Gate in Frogpond,31:3, pp. 85-86]. To this end, rengay was very successful andcontinues to be a popular verse form. By the end of August,2007, I had been involved in a number of renku and rengayprojects. One day I got wondering if it was possible to write alinked verse poem that was in length somewhere between therengay and the tan renga. One verse is a haiku, two verses is atan renga or tanka. What about three verses? This idea nicelycorresponded with the three lines of a modern formatted haiku.Could it be possible to write such a short rengay-like verseform? Could two writers successfully write such a poem?Later that year, Zhanna P. Rader and I experimented withthese ideas and eventually found a way. The final approach intriguedus in that the middle verse was truly collaborative andthat the entire poem was relatively short and yet was themedand fully linked. We also found that these poems could bewritten quickly.This is how we composed the first renhai ever written. Summerwas chosen as the season and each line of the middle verse. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .62 Haiku Society of America

was written by each writer in turn. Zhanna first wrote “blanketof velvet-gray fog” and I completed the verse with “a crowpierces the silence”.At this point we decided to go with the theme of “permeating”.The middle verse references this theme in that the fog spreadsout in every direction. I then wrote the following verse:Still autumn night—each patch of the forest,full of darkness.This links to the middle verse with the sense of stillness or silence.The theme is referenced through the feeling of darknesspermeating the forest. For balance and symmetry this verse wasplaced first. However, the first and third verses can be switchedaround according to the tastes of the writers.Zhanna then wrote the third verse to the “permeating” themewith coffee filling the air:Coffee aromapermeates the morning air—sudden rain . . .This verse links to the second one with the concept of interruptionand to the first verse with reference to the beginning andend of the day (morning/night).A renhai is, therefore, written in this inside-out manner. Youcan think of it as being organically derived. The middle verseis like a seed that germinates and sprouts a root (3rd verse),and a stem (1st verse).We chose “renhai” as the name for this new poetic form as itincorporates its two main elements. “ren” is from the linkingaspect of RENga, RENku, RENgay. And the “hai” is fromHAIku in that its form resembles the three lines of haiku as. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Frogpond 32:2 63

well as its short length. Here is the first renhai in full:A Night OutStill autumn night—each patch of the forest,full of darkness. / vsBlanket of velvet-gray fog— / zh.ra crow pierces the silence. / vsCoffee aromapermeates the morning air—sudden rain . . . / zh.rIn December, 2007 the Renhai Studio Yahoo group was setup for the purpose of incubating ideas about Renhai and forconducting experiments and sharing results:Since then, over 120 Renhai have been written by 20 differentwriters. A number of variations have been explored includingthree- and four-person collaboration, multiple renhai with acommon middle verse, solo, reversed order, and renhai writtenfor young readers.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .64 Haiku Society of America

Haikuholics Anonymousby Michael Dylan Welch, WashingtonMay the Infinite Now grant me the serenity to accept the haikuI cannot change, courage to change the haiku I can,and wisdom to know the difference.In a recent double-blind clinical study published by the PsychoanalyticPoetry Journal, researchers found haiku poetry tobe the most addictive of all English-language writing pursuits.1 Of the 328 subjects tested over the course of the twelvemonthstudy, a full 87 percent exhibited addictive haiku-writingbehavior, as quantified by the Carani-Lucchetta WritingAddiction Scale. 2 This widespread haiku-writing addictionmanifested itself in many forms. Anecdotal reports includedthe obsessive seeking of “haiku moments,” fixated discussionson obscure Oriental terminology such as “wabi,” “sabi,”“yugen,” and “karumi,” manic arguments as to the correct“form” for haiku poetry (whether traditional or free-form), theregressive counting of syllables, a puerile tendency towardcircular debates regarding the virtue of “senryu” versus “haiku,”and the excessive use of a further range of subgroup rhetoricand marginalized code words such as “ginko,” “kigo,”“renku,” and “hototogisu.” 3 In a similar study, many subjectsalso reported: a) being unable to part themselves from pocketsizednotebooks and pencils, b) the compulsive purchase ofhaiku chapbooks and quarterlies, c) prolonged spousal ignoral,d) abnormal amounts of personal correspondence, e)frequent and unexplained stamp-licking, and f) unrelenting attendanceat numerous haiku meetings, retreats, conferences,________________________________________________1Arthur N. Samuels and Jocelyn Farquharson-Dalrymple. “Addictive TraitsAmong Medium- to Well-Established Haiku Poets: A Double-Blind Studyof Image-Reflex Observation.” Psychoanalytic Poetry Journal XXV:11,218–32, 1994.2Caroline Carani and Bertrand Lucchetta. “Towards a Quantitative Assessmentof Writing-Addiction Behaviour: The Carani-Lucchetta Writing AddictionScale.” Poetry Therapy Weekly LV:42, 72–98, 1972.3Samuels and Farquharson-Dalrymple, op cit.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Frogpond 32:2 65

and haiku writing seminars. 4 These subjects also exhibitedother persistent behavior bordering on the odd and psychotic.This cumulative behavior, when manifested in adequate quantities,has been identified as Basic Anal-retentive Senryu/HaikuObsession, also known as BASHO Syndrome, and hasbeen shown to be present in an alarming number of practicinghaiku poets. 5In many cases, haiku-writing addiction reaches the point ofreligious fervor. While the prevalence of BASHO Syndromeshould come as no surprise to seasoned amateur and professionalhaiku poets in English-speaking countries, it does suggesta growing need for treatment methodologies when theaddiction syndrome reaches an intolerance threshold. To meetthis necessity, this paper proposes a twelve-step haiku recoveryprogram, and also calls for the establishment of a muchneededhaiku-obsession recovery and support group. Thisorganization will be called Haikuholics Anonymous, alsoknown as “HA.”We may continue this discussion of haiku-writing obsessionby presenting the aforementioned twelve steps of recovery forthose persons exhibiting haikuholic tendencies:The Twelve Steps of Haikuholics Anonymous1. We have admitted we are powerless over haiku—that ourwriting has become unmanageable.2. We have come to believe that a Power greater than haikucan restore us to good haiku-free writing.3. We have made a decision to turn our will and our poetry____________________________________________________________4Millicent Q. Laplander. “Cultic Tendencies and Poetic Neuroses AmongPrize-Winning Haiku Poets of Late Twentieth-Century North America.”Neuroses Daily III:4, 13–58, 1992.5Johnson Kidder Templeton. “Basic Anal-retentive Senryu/Haiku ObsessionSyndrome: A Progressive Longitudinal Study of 100 Severely UnderpublishedHaiku Poets.” Wooden Oats Haiku Weekly, XXX:13, 102–115,1989.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .66 Haiku Society of America

over to the care of the Infinite Now as we understand It.4. We have made a searching and fearless moral inventory ofour poetic ability.5. We have admitted to the Infinite Now, to ourselves, andto another haiku poet the exact nature of our haiku-writingobsession.6. We are entirely ready to have the Infinite Now remove allthese defects of our writing.7. We have humbly asked the Infinite Now to remove ourhaiku shortcomings.8. We have made a list of all haiku poets we have harmed byexcessively borrowing phrases or images, and have becomewilling to make amends to them all.9. We have made direct amends to such haiku poets whereverpossible, except when to do so would injure them, their haiku,or their publishing or contest-winning endeavors.10. We have continued to take inventory of our poetic ability,and when we have written bad haiku promptly admitted it.11. We have sought through nature walks and meditation toimprove our conscious contact with the Infinite Now as weunderstand It, praying for poetic knowledge of Its will for ourwriting and the power to carry that out.12. Having had a spiritual awakening as a result of these steps,we have tried to carry this message to haikuholics, and topractice these principles in our writing.Obsessive haiku writers reading these twelve steps shouldnot despair at the extent of this list, nor be discouraged bythe heavy demands it may suggest. Haikuholics should notattempt to become perfect poets, but rather, seek to makeprogress toward that perfection, which, of course, eschews allhaiku.With these steps in mind, and with a significant body of likemindedhaiku-obsessors in central geographic regions, it ispossible to develop the fellowship necessary to form haiku recoveryand support groups. While compulsive haiku writing isnot widespread in such places as North Dakota, Idaho, Prince. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Frogpond 32:2 67

Edward Island, Manitoba, or the Yukon Territory, BASHOSyndrome and related haiku ailments have reached epidemicproportions in such population centers as Boston, New York,Portland, Seattle, San Francisco, Ottawa, and Toronto. 6 Theseregions should immediately form a HA chapter to meet the presentand anticipated needs of the obsessed haiku poets in theirlocal areas, and should also provide long-distance telephonesupport for haikuholics in outlying areas through the1-800-NO-HAIKU support system (formed in 1994 by refugeesfrom the Universal Haiku Association based in Reykjavík,Iceland).While many haiku poets suffer from the insidious and debilitatingyet sometimes subtle effects of haikuholism, all is notbleak. In a pilot program, the Haikuholics Anonymous conceptwas tested in an inner-city haiku ghetto (where the craving fornature walks known as “ginkos” fevered uncontrollably). Inthis placebo-controlled study, researchers reported a small butsignificantly positive modification of obsessive haiku-writingbehavior by administering a new awareness-inhibiting drugmarketed as Kigozac. 7 With more research, further positiveresults are expected with the use of personal priority shifting,botanical medicine regimens, and self-help recovery programssuch as Haikuholics Anonymous.ConclusionThe goal of Haikuholics Anonymous is complete withdrawalfrom the writing of haiku in order to counteract the uncontrollableobsession indicated by BASHO Syndrome. While_________________________________________________6Archibald Hatcherdon, Elaine Dunhampton, and Billy Smith. “Carpal-Tunnel Vision Among Aspiring Haiku Poets: A Report of Regional Correlation.”Psychotic Neuralgia Studies CX:1, 38–44, 1995.7Andrew Addlepate and Richard Paul Stone. “Poetry-Writing BehaviourModification Amongst Nature-Deprived Inner-City Haiku Poets: The PositiveEffects of Placebo-Controlled Kigozac Administration.”Medical PoetryJournal IV:3, 1192–1234, 1991.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .68 Haiku Society of America

Haikuholics Anonymous is an effective means to this end, it isproposed that numerous approaches to dealing with compulsiveand obsessive haiku-writing behavior can work in harmonywith HA to improve personal and domestic tranquillity amongtoday’s thriving poets. The complete absence of haiku-writingbehavior may be too much to hope for among some delusionarysubjects. Nevertheless, significant cessation rates are certainlypossible with the appropriate formation of Haikuholics Anonymoussupport groups in select North American cities. Allhaiku writers who have suffered the afflictions of haiku obsessionare hereby challenged to seek sanity in their lives by immediatelyforming a local chapter of Haikuholics Anonymous._________________________________________________Author’s Note: This paper is intended for humorous purposes, and in noway means to denigrate the valuable work of Alcoholics Anonymous andother vital recovery and support programs.Editors’ Note: Part 3 of “Unsung Heroes” by Mankh wasunavailable at the time this issue went to press.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Frogpond 32:2 69

So:ba: Part Threeby Jim Kacian, VirginiaEditors’ Note: Part Two ends with the statement, “Shikichanged the foundation of haiku by changing its ba.”The consequences, of course, have been profound. The westcame to haiku at the only time in its long and estimable historywhen it had adopted an objectivist orientation. Never mindthat objectivism is philosophically untenable, that there is noway to prove through language the existence of any sort ofreality “out there.” Even more implausibly, the whole groundingof the traditional art of haiku, according to Shiki, was nowto be based on an imported western construct. And haiku hassuffered for it ever since.This is not to say there is no value in Shiki’s approach, butin seeking to revive it, he felt it necessary to throw out thevery underpinnings of the art, the stuff out of which Bashōhad made it an art form in the first place. And to argue hiscase, he reinterpreted the history of haiku in Japan in a waythat the poets themselves would have rejected. Buson was noobjectivist—his model, in fact, was the subjective Bashō, andhe employed ba as the core of his best work in the same fashion.Consider this famous poem:tsurigane ni tomari te nemuru kochō kanaresting uponthe temple bell—sleeping butterflyShiki singles this out as exemplary of what haiku ought to be—image-based, pictorial, and immediate—a “sketch from nature,”perfect shasei. In fact, Shiki considers this poem to exemplifywhat he terms “positive beauty”—a western attribute, as hesaw it, and as opposed to the traditional “negative beauty”. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .70 Haiku Society of America

which marked “Oriental” art. The translators and interpreterswho followed concurred: Miyamori calls it an “artless littleverse” and “a mere simple objective description.” Blyth followswith “There is nothing symbolized,” and continues “howeverobjective it may be, we feel the intensity and absorption of thepoet and butterfly as one thing.”Really? Is that what Buson had in mind, or are Shiki and Miyamoriand Blyth simply arguing for their interpretations?In fact, Buson’s poem is a web of allusions, not least to the famousdream of Chuang Tze (in Japanese, Sōshi), who could notsay if he was a man dreaming of being a butterfly, or a butterflydreaming he was a man. I doubt any literate Japanese could readthis poem without being reminded of this incident, much lessa poet, and especially a poet of Buson’s caliber. Beyond this,there is an allusion to a Noh play by Zeami entitled Takasago,and an episode in the Genji Monogatari, though both of theseare based on this same classical original. And of course it playsironically with Moritake’s famous falling leaf/rising butterflypoem. But most of all, it alludes directly to Bashō’skimi ya chō ware ya sōshi ga yume gokoroyou’re the butterflyand I’m Chuang Tze’sdreaming heartTo deny the possibility of allusion and symbolism to Buson’spoem is like saying that Moby Dick must be read as a straightforwardaccount of a fishing expedition: it’s possible to do so,but why would you want to? This doesn’t mean that Busonnever saw a butterfly on a temple bell—we don’t know if hedid, and it doesn’t matter. What we do know is that wherever hegot his material, he knew how to turn it into poetry. To denudesuch haiku of its allusion is to strip it of its fetch, and to reduceit to little more than a journal entry.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Frogpond 32:2 71

And of course this is not the only such example—the entirecorpus of Buson’s work contains this same sort of allusivematerial. Simultaneously we can go through Shiki’s readingsof Buson’s poems and find this same reductionism at work.This is too bad for Buson, but what of it? Why should thismatter to us, two centuries later?It matters because of the manner in which it has affected the veryway in which you and I and all westerners have come to viewhaiku, narrowly limiting what haiku have traditionally been bymaking the least out of that which makes haiku so distinctive:its ba. In order to demonstrate this let’s consider the arc of theHaiku Society of America’s definition of haiku from the timeof its inception in the early 1970s to the present time. The needfor definitions is apparent—how else to tell the uninitiated (thatis, most new members) what we are about? But definitions arefamously retrograde and proscriptive. Interestingly, however,the HSA’s earliest attempts at definition were broader, and grewgradually narrower. The first version, as suggested by ProfessorHarold G. Henderson: “A short Japanese poem recordinga moment of emotion in some way connected with nature.” (Iwill omit discussions of format and English cognate at this pointfor brevity’s sake.) Notice that even at the outset mention ismade of nature. There is the mention of “moment” here as well,which is equally loaded, but that’s a discussion for another time.A month later this became: “A Japanese poem, a record ofa moment of emotion, in some way linking Nature with humannature.” The “moment” is retained, nature has becomeNature and human nature has been removed from this Natureby being posited against it, as though it were somethingelse. In other words, there is something out there calledNature, and we humans do not partake of it. And the clearlimning of this Nature as it relates to us is the business ofhaiku. This is a clearly objectivist position, following Shiki.Half a year later this has morphed into this: “A Japanesepoem, a record of a moment keenly perceived which in some. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .72 Haiku Society of America

way links Nature with human nature.” This is much the sameas the previous except for the addition of the phrase “keenlyperceived,” which, as one of its outcomes, suggests that “therecord“ of any moment “keenly perceived” is a haiku. MarleneMountain’s parody definition of this was that a haiku was “adull moment keenly perceived,” and of course she makes apoint: none of this is about art so much as about optical acuity.At this point it’s worth considering how Japanese dictionariesdefine haiku—from the Jikai, edited by Kindaichi Kyosukeand considered the equivalent of Webster’s Collegiate Dictionary:“1. abbreviation for “stanza of a haikai” etc., and 2.particularly, a name for “hokku”; a word used and popularizedby Masaoka Shiki circa the 23rd year of Meiji (1890). Fiveseven-five,three-line, seventeen-sound short poem.” Interesting,isn’t it? No mention of nature, or Nature. No “moment”.No “keen perception”. Haiku in Japan is defined primarily asa poem, and all that that implies. But what we had importedwas something quite different: in brief, we had taken onShiki’s program as though it were the whole of haiku, whenin fact it was an extremely minor, doctrinaire, onetimeaberration in the lengthy history of haiku as an art.This series will conclude in the Fall issue, 32:3, with Part Fourand a bibliography.Editors’ Note: On our trip across the South Seas in January2009, we discovered that ba is not only a state of mind, butalso an actual place. Ba is a province in northwest Viti Levu,Fiji’s largest island.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Frogpond 32:2 73

ReviewedKacian, J. long after Raccolta di haiku. Rosignano marittimo:Albalibri editore, 2008, 177 pages, perfect softbound,7 .5 x 4. ISBN 978-888-961-8585, 17 USD by E.D. Blodgett, AlbertaThe true pleasures of reading haiku only appear to revealthemselves suddenly. Rather they come as unexpected afterthoughts,sometimes leaving one uncertain where they camefrom. Their effect is like those of harmonic partials, accompanimentsthat cannot be readily located, but always in theair. So it is with the new collection of Jim Kacian, a sequencewhose title long after evokes resonance immediately, whilesuggesting unexpected returns whose promptings seem tocome from nowhere.In his Author’s Note, Kacian aims for immediacy, announcingin his first sentence, “Remembering is a kind of pornography.”Leaving the reader to ponder the sense of such an assertion,he then remarks, “Forgetting is a kind of return toinnocence.” The relation between the two, we are then told,is made by grief, which provides the form of the book, a kindof record of grief that moves between the alliterated framingsections called “Ago” and “Again,” suggesting a processof rebirth. The book, then, has a kind of narrative structurewhose effect is to play contrapuntally upon the impact of theindividual poems. For if haiku is designed as a moment ofinsight and reverberation, how is that moment to be construedin the larger unfolding of the process of grief? It is to beconstrued, I would suggest, within the dimension of unexpectedafterthoughts which belong to both haiku as a momentaryexperience and grief as an experience of longer duration.Because the rapport is reciprocal, grief is lightened (it bringsrebirth about), and the poetry is given more layered depths (itis where the rebirth occurs).. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .74 Haiku Society of America

In Richard Gilbert’s deeply sensitive and intelligent Introduction,the poetics of haiku is neatly conjoined to the process ofgrief. He reminds us that the mark of haiku, “its unique poeticquality” (p. 11), is kire (Japanese for “cutting”), that suddengesture, almost captured in the word “cleaving,” that at onceseparates and configures in an unexpected way, prompting theleap from one dimension of experience to another, from thehuman to the natural world, from time to non-time, from pastto future. As Gilbert concludes, “In such conjunction there isalso metamorphosis” (p. 13), which he aligns with the processof grieving.What adds to the power derived from the interaction of haikuand the cycle of grief are the further dimensions provided bythe translations of the poems. Each poem is directly followedby translations into Italian and German. The effect carries allthe surprises and delights one might expect because of the linguisticdifferences that appear. One reads: “the day now burntout fireflies” (p. 91), and one is quick to wonder where thekire falls in the in the poem. Is it after “day.” “now,” or “burntout?” All, of course, are possible, and each suggests a differentemphasis and modified reading. Somehow it is difficult topause in the Italian: “il giorno adesso si è spento lucciole,”and perhaps only before “lucciole.” Perhaps this is becausethe translator read “burnt” as a finite verb, rather than justa past participle, making everything before the last word tobe a single preparation. The German follows more easily thehalting, self-discovering quality of the English: “Der Tag jetztausgebrannt Leuchtkäfer.” All the beauty of the poem residesin its compounded uncertainties, which both the Italian andGerman help the reader to see more clearly by both diminishingand enhancing it.Some poems—some would say all—defy translation. Thepoem “clouds seen/ through clouds/ seen through” (p. 103)is such a poem. The enjambement between the first and secondlines takes the expression “seen through” and proposes itspossible meanings, only to suggest at the end that something. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Frogpond 32:2 75

seen through is shown to be exposed, its true meanings manifest.The abruptness of the ending suggests also that perhapsthe viewer has seen through either to nothing or to what cannotbe named. The poem is placed in a cycle called “bargaining”whose poems all suggest a kind of movement going nowhere.The perfect dissyllabic form of each line reinforces such asee-saw movement. The Italian version is literal and clear,rendering “seen through” as “viste attraverso,” which signalsthe action of seeing through without hinting at a notion of understandingthat one might have been taken in, which wouldhave been suggested by “non ingannare.”The German uses“erblickt” (catch a glimpse of), which as a single word in linethree is sudden, urging to read that all one sees through cloudsare more clouds, that is, the continuous lack of clarity in thebargaining of grief. It misses, however, the sense of seeingthrough, especially something as a ruse, which would be betterrendered by durchschauen.Despite the occasional sense that the translations might be tooliteral, the reader is compensated by both the different movementsthat Italian and German provide in their distinct music,but also the unexpected gifts they can bring. When Kacianwrites “green woods” (p. 48), his Italian translator answers“boschi Verdi,” an operatic note that could not be more dramaticallyopposed to the delicacy of the imagery of the poem,thus uniquely underlining it. Sometimes all three languagescooperate with great fluency: “the river/ the river makes/ ofthe moon,” il fiume/ il fiume interpreta/la luna, and “DerFluss/ was der Fluss/ aus dem Mond macht.” So we read inItalian: the river/ the river/ interprets (or enacts as in a play),the moon. The German varies the sense: the river/ what theriver/ forms of the moon. In the latter, with the addition of was(what), it’s another river that comes into sight (ausmachen).The translations, which a reader might take in the usual pedestrianway, as an addition to the book, are in fact integral.They belong to the harmonic partials of the whole chord. Butbecause of their presence, they change the character of the. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .76 Haiku Society of America

English. It becomes a version too, a version of the whole experiencewhich the three versions of the poem, each with theirdistinctive kire moments, co-create. Thus the author of theEnglish haiku is both problematised and subsumed into somelarger dimension, the larger haiku that echoes over the wholeexperience. If there is any flaw, it is typographical. For somereason the German was neglected. “Geistes” should havebeen added at the end of the haiku on page 103, somethinglike heiss should complete the poem on page 61, on page 89“nichs” should be nichts, and bedürfni should end in ‘s.’ Despitesuch flaws, the book constitutes a superb addition to anylibrary of haiku.Editors’ Note: E.D. Blodgett is Professor Emeritus of theUniversity of Alberta at Edmonton. Dr. Blodgett is the authorof seventeen books of poetry among which Apostrophe wonthe Canadian Governor General’s Award for Poetry in 1996.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Frogpond 32:2 77

Abe, K., Ichino, K., Itō, T., et al. (eds.). The Haiku Universefor the 21st Century: Japanese/English JAPANESE HAIKU2008. Tokyo: Modern Haiku Association, 2008, 216 pp., perfectsoftbound, 5 1/2/ x 8 1/2. ISBN 978-4-8161-0712-2, 25USD (no checks) .By Brent Partridge, CaliforniaMore than just a bilingual anthology, this book also includes“A Brief History of Modern Haiku.” The anthology is the workof more than 245 modern and contemporary (born since 1945)poets. It’s arranged historically and divided into sections titled“Pioneers,” “Promoters,” “Challengers,”and “Kaleidoscope.”Though this volume has a number of tiny mistakes in its Englishtranslation, none of them disturb the enjoyment of thetruly great haiku. A wide and egalitarian overview of the fieldis provided, pointing the way to possible further translation ofthe works of these writers. The success achieved by so manyto expand haiku in unique ways— is striking. The principle ofjuxtaposition alone is explored in most transformative ways.The writers’ thrusts of innovative style are closely revealed.Here are two examples from each of the four sections . . .Poling alongright in the middleof the moonSeisensui Ogiwara (1884-1976)PioneersIn my usual clothesand my usual state of mind—peach blossomsAyako Hosomi (1909-1981). . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .78 Haiku Society of America

PromotersFluffy snowflakes—quietly the hoursbegin to danceSumio Mori (1919- )Placing the new yearon a set of scales—they stay quite stillMichi Shibuya (1926- )ChallengersYourself and me:everything has been frozento a rosy hueRyū Yotsuya (1958- )In the evening skyfor cats in lovea castle towerReona Takayama (1968- ). . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Frogpond 32:2 79

Every so oftenit mutters an archaic word:the toadKaleidoscopeShijūkara Iwashita (1913-2006)On a pilgrimage to spaceforce all the starsto prayHitoshi Hashiguchi (1956- )Both the poems in the historical section and those in the anthologyoffer valuable inspiration to haiku writers in our increasinglycompetitive creative lives.Briefly Reviewedby George Swede, OntarioBuettner, M. Seeing It Now: Haiku & Tanka (Intro. by H.F.Noyes). Red Wing, MN: Red Dragonfly Press, 2008, 47 pp.,perfect softbound, 5 x 8. ISBN 978-1-890193-85-0, 15 USD. Of Marjorie Buettner’s 72 includedpoems, 43 are haiku. Most of the latter will resonatefor the reader: this spring night . . . / suddenly my desires / arevery simple and unraveling back / to the lost stitch / autumnloneliness.de Gruttola, R., Evans, J., & Klein, K. (eds.). wind flow.Boston: Aether Press, 2008, 66 pp., perfect softbound, 5.5x 8.5. No ISBN, 13 USD postpaid . Well-produced, this anthologyshowcases the work of members of the Boston Haiku. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .80 Haiku Society of America

Society. As well as haiku, it includes tanka, renku, haiga andhaibun. Those new to Japanese poetics will find this book particularlyuseful.Faiers, C. Zen River: Poems & Haibun. Brighton, ON: HiddenBrook Press, 2008, 58 pp., perfect softbound, 5 x 8. ISBN978-1-897475-25-6, 15.95 CAD . Zen-influenced Chris Faiers’ seventeenth book offersa mixed bag of work: twelve haibun arranged according toseasons, three early haibun written in 1969, a haiku sequenceon spring, a long poem and five pages (including a backcover poem) of writing by four other Canadian poets. Afterinitial confusion, readers will come away with an appreciationof the poetic life halfway between Toronto and Ottawa.Forrester, S.M. the toddler’s chant: selected poems, 1998-2008 (Fwd. by M. Fessler).Windsor, CT: bottle rockets press,2009, 111 pp., perfect softbound, 5.5 x 8. ISBN 978-0-9792257-3-4, 14 USD . Thisbook gives readers a good look at ten years of writing by aleading haiku poet and editor. Many of the poems involve Zenpractice and some deal with visits to Greece and India. Althoughstrongly influenced by Zen, Stanford Forrester’s haikudo not bludgeon the reader with a message. Usually, they are,first and foremost, poems, often playful, sometimes serious:old jazz record / a scratch / improvises and meditation hall . .. / an ant carries away / my concentration and burning an oldlove letter . . . / a moth / circles my way.Jones, K. Stone Leeks: More Haiku Stories (Fwd. by J. Kacian).Troedrhiwsebon, Cwmrheidol, Aberystwyth, SY233NB, Wales: Pilgrim Press, 2009, 96 pp., perfect softbound 6x 8.5, ISBN 978-0-9539901-6-0, 6.50 pounds/15 USD . Ken Jones is the editor of Contemporary Haibun(hard copy and online) and author of four prior collectionsof haibun. The 28 haibun in his new title are arranged into fivethemes with each section followed by several pages of freestandinghaiku. The haibun are two to three pages long and. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Frogpond 32:2 81

feature one to eight haiku. Readers will come away withstrong impressions of Welsh character and how it feels to livein Wales under varying circumstances. Of course, everythingis nuanced by the fact that Jones is a practioner and teacherof Zen.Kennedy, S. & Guenther, D. (eds.). The Fish Jumps Out OfThe Moon: Haiku of Charles F. Kennedy. Internet: Xlibris,2009, 62 pp., hardbound or perfect softbound, 8.5 x 8.5. ISBN(hb) 978-1-4363-9633-2/ ISBN (psb) 978-1-4363-9632-5,31.99 (hb)/ 24.99 (psb) . Charles Kennedy(1959- 2004) was the leader of a group of amateur naturalistswho explored New York City’s Central Park at night,and in this role achieved celebrity status by being a chief characterin a book about these activities as well in a documentaryaired on PBS. He left behind a large number of photos, essaysand haiku involving these nighttime forays. His nephew,Steve Kennedy, with the help of friend Dan Guenther, decidedto publish the best of Charles’ work in this well-designed,glossy-paged volume: bagpipes / cicadas are / bagpipes andthis evening / the brook finally learned / my reflection.MacRury, C. In the Company of Crows: Haiku and TankaBetween the Tides (Sumi-e by I. Codescru; Intro by B.George). Eldersburg, MD: Black Cat Press, 2008, 139 pp.,perfect softbound, 5.5 x 8.5. ISBN 0-9766407-7-5, 18 USD. Readers will find CaroleMacRury’s first collection of over 200 individual haiku andtanka a welcome addition to the growing bibliography ofJapanese short-form poetry titles. Cathy Drinkwater Better,co-owner of Black Cat, and an accomplished poet in her ownright, has selected and ordered the poems in a manner sure torivet the reader. The book itself is handsome and the drawingsby Codescru tasteful and relevant. Here is a brief samplingof the haiku: afternoon heat— / even the cut tulips / haveflung open wide and election results— / low-tide clams / spitseawater and twilight . . . / an acorn falls / into our silence.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .82 Haiku Society of America

Marra, M.F. Seasons and Landscapes in Japanese Poetry:An Introduction to Haiku and Waka (Foreward by J.T. Rimer).Lewiston, NY: The Edwin Mellen Press, 2009, 296 pp.,hardbound, 6 x 9. ISBN 978-0-7734-4907-7, USD 119.95USD . In this book, Michael Marra,a Professor of Japanese Literature at UCLA, introduces themajor poets of every period, from the early Man’yōshū tothe last poet of the Meiji period, Masoaki Shiki. Instead of achronological timeline, he organizes their poems accordingto the seasons. Thus, readers will find something about or byShiki in each of four sections. The translations are fresh andare accompanied by commentaries that reveal levels of meaningoften not apparent, even to seasoned readers. This is a finework of scholarship that will be appreciated by readers whoseek to be informed about the history of the haiku and waka.Marshall, I. Walden By Haiku. Athens, GA: The Universityof Georgia Press, 2009, 239 pp., hardbound, 5.5 x 9. ISBN978-0-8203-3288-8, 28.95 USD . AProfessor of English and Environmental Studies at Penn StateAltoona, Ian Marshall has written a truly innovative, two-partbook bristling with ideas on the relationship between haikuand prose nature writing. In part one, he presents 293 haikuextracted, chapter by chapter, from Henry David Thoreau’sWalden. In part two, he presents the source for each haikuin the original prose passage and suggests that together theymay be read as haibun. What led him to conduct this literaryexperiment?—to confirm his belief that outstanding prosenature writing has, at its core, haiku-like elements. He choseWalden because it is at the pinnacle of American nature writing.Here are three of his found haiku picked at random: thestillness of the air / the smoothness of the water / the loon’slong howl and hen-hawks circling / approaching, leaving / mythoughts and drinking deeper from the stream / fish in the sky/ bottom pebbly with stars. As Marshall searched for haiku inThoreau’s prose, he had to confront the central assumptionswe, in the west, have about the aesthetics of the form. Someof his conclusions are provocative and central to the haiku’scurrent evolution. For instance, he states, “Precision of image,. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Frogpond 32:2 83

it seems, is prized at the expense of sound, verbal play, orresonance” (p. xxi). The volume is certain to become a prizedreference for different interest groups: Thoreau scholars, naturewriters, haiku theorists and haiku poets wanting to honetheir skillsMetz, S. A Sealed Jar Of Mustard Seeds. ant ant ant ant antnumber nine, winter 2009, unpaginated, stapled, 5.5 x 8.5. NoISBN, 76 cents USD . This chapbookis a special edition of a journal that explores the haiku form.Scott Metz is the editor of Roadrunner, an online periodicalwithsimilar goals, and his one-liners give readers the surprisesthey expect: walrus with its mouth wide open war statisticsand entering through the back door eaters of light. Readerswill come away hoping for a more substantial collection in thenear future from a member of the new wave.Missias, A.C. (ed.). A Loose Thread: Selected poems from10 years of Acorn, with commentary. Philadelphia: redfoxpress, 2008, unpaginated, stapled, 4.5 x 7. ISSN 1521-138X,6 USD . The foundingand former editor of Acorn, Andrea Missias, has selected59 haiku proportionately from the first 20 issues of this tiny,but respected periodical and provides sensitive commentaryon each. This anthology is worth reading for understandingthe way an editorial mind works.Pilarski, P.M. & Pakan, N. (eds.). Daily Haiku II: A DailyShot of Zen. Edmonton: Daily Haiku, 2008, 72 pp., perfectsoftbound, 6 x 9. ISSN 1913-3928, 10 CAD .This anthology is part of a growing trend—a year-endhard copy edition of an online periodical The new online twistdeveloped by Pilarski and Pakan is to feature one haiku andrelated features each day. After 365 days, all special featuresand published haiku are collected into an annual print volume.The format is actually more complicated than indicated here,but readers who pursue further details will be rewarded.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .84 Haiku Society of America

Rosenow, C. & Arnold, B. (eds.). The Next One ThousandYears, The Selected Poems Of Cid Corman. Guiford, VT:Longhouse, 2008, 206 pp., perfect softbound, 5.5 x 8.5. ISBN978-1-929048-08-3, 16.95 USD . Scholar, translator, poetry broadcaster, mentor and,above all, prolific poet, Cid Corman (1924-2004) is servedwell by Ce Rosenow and Bob Arnold. Their goal was to createa new selected edition of Corman’s poetry because mostof his titles are out of print. The result is a volume encompassingthe breadth and depth of Corman’s style—long free verseand formally structured poems to shorter poems often akinto haiku. Because of the editors’ desire to provide somethingnew for faithful Corman admirers, they found poems fromrare privately circulated editions and three unpublished manuscripts.The result?—Corman’s work will attract many newfans. Here is a taste of his haiku: You are / the rock / shadowand From the hills a breeze / reaching a windbell thinking / ofwanting to live.Ross, B. endless small waves: haibun. London, ON: HMSPress, 2008, 102 pp., perfect softbound, 7 x 8. ISBN 978-1-55253-070-2, 15USD . The design for this book is basic, with neitherforeward, nor index, nor illustrations, nor section breaks, norcover description of contents, thus forcing the reader to godirectly to the contents, which, in this case, is not a bad thing.Nearly all of the almost 70 haibun involve travel by BruceRoss, mainly in Canada and Mexico. Some are brief—lessthan half a page and include one haiku; others are long—upto five pages with 15 haiku. Many of the haiku are integral tothe prose and do not stand well on their own, although othersdo: desert rain / by the roadside cross / fresh flowers and earlyspring / rust down the side / of a gravestone.Russell, H. Distant Sounds. Issaquah, WA: Privately Printed,2008, unpaginated, thread bound, 4.5 x 5.5. No ISBN, 10 USDpostpaid . This chapbook was put together by Connie Hutchinson,Ann Spiers and Ruth Yarrow to honor Helen Russell on. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Frogpond 32:2 85

her 99th birthday (22 Nov 08). A Washington state resident,she began writing haiku in 1996 and her first collection showsa grasp of the form: high tide in the slough / two little boyspole / into a foreign land and a cloud across the sun / andsuddenly / I am old.Theodoru, Ș. G. One More Step. Bucharest: Amurg Sentimental,2008, 159 pp., perfect softbound, 5 x 8. ISBN 978-973-678-246-6, No Price . The pitfallsof translation are once again in evidence with this collectionby Ştefan Theodoru, a widely-published Romanian poet. Mostof his translations into English do not emerge as well-craftedhaiku, hampered as they often are by awkward syntax and occasionalmisspelling. Yet they also suggest that a better poemis likely to be found in the Romanian version on the samepage. Patient readers will, however, find a few haiku free suchencumbrances: In from bitter cold— / tea with rum for some /rum with tea for others and Carried by the wind / among theautumn leaves / a letter.Tipton, J. Proposing to the Woman in the Rear View Mirror:Haiku and Senryu. Baltimore: Modern English TankaPress, 2008, 46 pp., perfect softbound, 4 x 6.5. ISBN 978-098176917-2, 9.95 USD . Originally a Colorado writer and poet, Tipton moved tothe Lake Chapala area in Mexico a number of years ago. Thebetter haiku in the collection speak with worldly-wise machismo:a new blue shirt / leaves this solitary house/ to go wifehunting and in her proud voice / you can hear / her breasts.Tipton, J. Washing Dishes in the Ancient Village: Short Poemsabout Mexico and Latin America. Chapala, Jalisco, Mexico:Ediciones del Lago, 2009, 103 pp., perfect softbound, 5 x7. ISBN 0-912549-21-1, 10.95 USD . All the haiku in thiscollection are in both English and Spanish. Sometimes theysing: Full moon . . . / two straws / in the coconut. But, toooften, they merely speak: Rolex watches. / “For you amigo, /only ten dollars.” and Careful! / Just ahead / a ten-cross curve.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .86 Haiku Society of America

Verbeke, G. Hermit: Reflections about haiku, a tribute tomaster Bashō. Flanders, Belgium: Privately Published, 2008,86 pp., perfect softbound, 5.5 x 8. No ISBN, No Price . As the back cover blurb states, the BelgianGeert Verbeke is, “a poet, writer, haikuist, traveler, musician,painter, exponent of singing bowls, free thinker and eternalstudent.” This book has all of those elements in Verbeke’s haikuand commentary on the form (the latter taking up most ofthe pages) as well as in the many quotes and haiku from otherwriters, both ancient and modern, eastern and western. Despitebeing named in the title, Bashō plays a peripheral role. A fewreaders will find that this book contains an overwhelming, butsometimes compelling, mish-mash of information; others willbe stimulated into rethinking cherished ideas; most will havea combination of both experiences. Despite English not beinghis first language, Verbeke manages to write clearly most ofthe time. Since the bulk of his poems in this title are senryu,here are a couple: haiku meeting / counting on their fingers /again and again and on her night table / a brass buddha / andher false teeth . . . .Verink, E. A. Pump Jack Poems (photos by G Kalisek). PointVenture, TX: Privately Published, 2008, unpaginated, perfectsoftbound, 5.5 x 8.5. No ISBN, 12 USD . While seeminglymeant for adults, Texan Elizabeth Verink’s book seems moresuitable for children. Each haiku is accompanied by a fullpagecolor photograph and most of the latter are of Disneylikecutouts attached to oil pumping units (nicknamed pumpjacks) to make them look less bleak or menacing. Verink’shaiku rarely go beyond a simple description of each photo.For instance, one photo shows a pump jack adorned with acow jumping over the moon and the accompanying haikureads old man moon / greets the bounding bovine / aloft. Noneof Verink’s haiku appear to have been published previouly (noacknowledgments are listed) and this might explain their prosaicnature—the author has received no constructive feedbackfrom someone more knowledgable about haiku.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Frogpond 32:2 87

Issue 31:3Lee Giesecke, Virginia, on Cor van den Heuvel, New York:I thought Cor van den Heuvel’s alone / on top of the ferriswheel / the moon [p. 24] was the best in Frogpond issue 31:3.It works, in part, because it plays with our expectations. Wesuspect a human presence on top of the Ferris wheel—whetherthe observer or the observed—and are surprised to find thatit is the moon. The unusual form also helps. The first andthird lines are short. Each is an iamb with a nasal sound in thesecond syllable. The short lengths and the parallel elementsemphasize the feeling of aloneness. The middle line, by contrast,is long. It could have been shortened by using “atop”instead of “on top of.” However, “on top of” is less trivial andseems to give a greater feeling of height and separation. Forwhatever reason, the poem works.H.F. Noyes, Greece, on Patrick M. Pilarski, Alberta: Thispoet from Alberta has perfectly expressed his haiku: underthe dock/ waves count/ the weathered pilings [p.9]. Not oneword comes between us and the “counting.” And the term“weathered” allows us to clearly visualize the happening aswell. Once the reader hears one breaking wave, the waves areendless, the haiku unlimited, the “one breath” becoming aneternity of moments.Issue 32:1Re:Readingsof Issues 31:3 & 32:1Brent Partridge, California, on “Cobalt Canyon: A 36-LinkColorenga” by nine contributors (pp. 42-43): The renga “CobaltCanyon” demonstrates working together very well. It hasa true visionary quality and reminds me of a great man, whosaid more than forty years ago, “I have a dream.” And more—the reverberations include joy and humor: I laughed aloud at. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .88 Haiku Society of America

Carlos’ [Colón] “corn maze” [p.43]. The overall effect is triumphantlybeautiful.Linda Jeanette Ward, North Carolina, on the article “To Contestor Not To Contest” [pp. 62-63] by Bob Lucky, China: I’dlike to address two of Bob’s concerns. One, the question ofmoney. It’s been my impression over the last decade or sothat most contest entry fees in the haiku and tanka world areprimarily used to cover the costs involved in the contest, notto pay a “reader.” These costs include the prize money, printingof brochures and postage. If the contest is for a collectionof poems, the entrants often receive a copy of the winningentry.Secondly, those very important 3x5 cards. Yes, they’re stillavailable (at least in the USA). I find them in any place thatstocks school and office supplies. Why use these cards? First,and most importantly, they help to keep the judging unbiasedand fair. By printing or typing each poem separately on acard the judges are helped to avoid what psychologists callthe “halo effect.” In a contest where the entrants are askedto print all entries on a single sheet of paper, the influence ofone poem that impresses a judge casts a “halo” or favorableview on the others on the same page. I’d call the oppositea “shadow” effect. Thus, the 3x5 cards help to ensure thateach individual poem is judged on its own merit. You can seethe difference in results, i.e., when entrants are asked to listentries on a single sheet, you’re more likely to find severalwinning poems by the same poet.A second reason for the 3x5 cards is convenience for the contestcoordinator and judges. The cards can be code numberedand easily divided and referenced later.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Frogpond 32:2 89

31:3Corrections to 31:3 and 32:1p. 94: Tom Painting, New York, wrote: “While working withsome students on Virgilio [Haiku Contest] entries I discoveredan error as to the author of one of the 2008 winners thatwas eventually . . . published in Frogpond, 31:3. The haiku:light footstepsacross the snowhis alcohol breathwas attributed to Desire Collier, when in fact Desire Giddens,New York, wrote the poem.”32:1p. 22: The haiku by Jeremy Pendrey, California, shouldread:meditationthe lightthrough my eyelidsp. 100: Kristen Deming, Maryland, wrote that in the descriptionof The Rabbit In The Moon as the winner of The MildredKanterman Memorial Book Award for Best Translation, 2008,it was stated that her father was ambassador to Japan. In fact,he was not. However, her father-in-law, Olcott HawthorneDeming, did serve as Consul General in Okinawa after thewar.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .90 Haiku Society of America

The Bernard Lionel EinbondRenku Competition 2008Editors’ Note: In order to make the judges’ commentary moreeasy to follow, the stanzas have been numbered.Grand PrizePeggy Willis Lyles & Ferris Gilli, GeorgiaPaul W. MacNeil, FloridaThe Smell of Eartha spring kasen renku1. wide-brimmed hatsa trowel looseningthe smell of earth2. on the runhe unreels the box kite3. Federal Expressknocks at my doorand a butterfly enters4. the textbook opento Common Sense5. only the full moonhelped her studyfor mid-terms6. I step carefullyto avoid the mushrooms7. chandelier swingingas our loud boogie woogierattles the crystalPeggyFerrisPaulPeggyFerrisPaulFerris. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Frogpond 32:2 91

8. courtesans wavefrom the gondola9. bright petalsdown the wedding chapel’scenter aisle10. could I conceivein the eye of the storm?11. let’s imaginethis magnetic tapeis your DNA12. illegal immigrantscaught with forged papers13. the snow leopardleaps higherwinter moon14. leafless shadowsmark the oak grove15. a big green Xin place of his hairthen the chains16. for the birthday girlold jade restrung17. surrendering myselfto lily of the valley’stimeless appeal18. those tadpoles with legslook so curiousPeggyPaulFerrisPeggyPaulPeggyPaulFerrisPeggyPaulFerris. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .92 Haiku Society of America

19. two by twothe Merry Mengreet the Queen of May20. her television stolenwhile she dreams21. so few good pointsthat my matchmaker shrieks“Impossible!”22. bananas flambékindle our mood23. giant boulders screeninghis slow ramble tothe erogenous zone24. undertow at this beachin Zanzibar25. another sell-offsweeps awaymy market gains26. every toilet flushedwith the janitor’s bleach27. I promise Motherthe little alligatorwill be no trouble28. “See ya’ later,conjure man.”29. chicken blood dripsinto the circlepale moonlightPeggyFerrisPaulPeggyFerrisPaulPeggyFerrisPaulPeggyFerris. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Frogpond 32:2 93

30. the harvester followsa row to the horizon31. in this placethey bale marijuanaalong with the hay32. we’ve found the needlethat threads itself33. indubitablySherlock shows methe crucial clue34. at last I know a wayout of the twisty maze35. blossoms blownfrom six directionstoward the obelisk36. finding its new levelso many brook soundsPaulFerrisPeggyPaulFerrisPeggyPaul. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .94 Haiku Society of America

First Honorable MentionJohn Stevenson (js ), Yu Chang (yc) , New YorkPaul W. MacNeil (pwm), FloridaHilary Tann (ht), New York“a glass of red”a summer nijuin renku1. balancingon the floating docka glass of red2. loon callsecho our laughter3. please holdfor the next availablerepresentative4. she attends the birthof her grandchild5. the moon revealedwhat elsewas there . . .6. it’ll be tricksif we’re out of treats7. their heirloom bedseems oversizedthese chilly nights8. new lingeriehowever briefly9. a complete landscapein a few deftstrokesjsycpwmhtycjshtpwmjs. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Frogpond 32:2 95

10. Climb aboardthe Great Western locomotive!11. two scorpionsalready occupymy motel room12. snowflakesfall in moonlight13. prayers for peaceafter a homilyon Bethlehem14. the dream catchertakes another twig15. he schedules an appointmentwith his massage-therapistwifehtycjspwmycht16. appraising her curvesand hollowspwm17. small town storiesoften have a touchof irony18. Dorothy returnsto Kansas19. even early blossomsfill the esplanadewith picnic baskets20. a windrow ofcottonwood fluffjsycpwmht. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .96 Haiku Society of America

Second Honorable MentionJohn Stevenson (J) & Michele Harvey (M), New YorkThe Houra winter nijuin renku1. the hour betweenchildren and parents wakingpresents under the tree2. a ball of wool socksin the calico’s clutches3. I promised myselfI would learnto play guitar4. echo of a train whistlerides the cusp of dawn5. the moonseems permeatedwith a smokey scent6. without youthe leaves have less color7. we turn to each otherfor the warmth we needas autumn deepens8. today’s mailsent to the recycle bin9. battle sitesnamed one way by the Yankeesand another by the RebsJMJMJMJMJ. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Frogpond 32:2 97

10. nobody needs a tattoothe body itself is art11. thumpinga series of melonsto check their ripeness12. moths prefer the porch lightto the moon13. the Braille bookof blonde jokesraises some funny questions14. she signals her readinesswith a slight pause15. they bondbecause it’s understoodthey are not bound16. “on my honor,I will do my best . . .”17. Murphy’s lawcan be overcomeby improved design18. a second pair of legsfor the tadpole19. the neighbor’s fencehas vanishedin the bougainvillea20. bursting bubblesas we blow moreMMJMJMJMJMJ. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .98 Haiku Society of America

Judges’ CommentsRenku is a form that thrives on variety and imagination. As along poem it benefits from changes of pace and tone: surges ofliveliness are interspersed with moments of quiet, tendernessfollows rough-spokenness, playfulness gives way to moresomber thoughts—these are ingredients of a masterful renku.All three of the renku we chose, The Smell of Earth (GrandPrize), “a glass of red” (First Honorable Mention), and TheHour (Second Honorable Mention), had these qualities; eachtakes the reader on an extended and enjoyable journey throughan imagined and imaginative landscape that, for the most part,sustained its energy.Counterbalancing the importance of variety is connection—linking—brief synapses of communication that bridge thespan between adjacent stanzas, and only adjacent stanzas. Agood link offers evidence that one poet has understood theessence of the preceding poet’s stanza. Furthermore, readingought to flow swiftly through areas in which connections aremeant to be close (prologue, love sequences, conclusion) andin areas where shifting is emphasized (the rest of the renku),connections ought to be subtle, thereby slowing the flow anddemanding a more sustained attention from readers. In theserespects, much of the linking in the three renku we chose wasvery good.These aspects—variety, linking, imagination, change of pace,and change of tone—made all three of these renku contendersfor the Grand Prize. The following discussion of the detailsof the poems and how they conformed to, or worked against,the renku “rules” is meant to reveal our thought processes, butwe do not want it to detract from the overall success and theenjoyment we felt in reading and studying these final threepoems.There were some weaknesses in the renku we received, in-. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Frogpond 32:2 99

cluding the three we chose for awards. Since writing renkuis by no means easy and perfection in the craft is, as far aswe know, unheard of, we were willing to forgive some aberrations.Also, it is much easier to accept flaws, even criticalflaws, with the understanding that, as important as the rulesand guidelines are, it is equally important that we have funwith renku and support one another’s efforts to create theseunique word-sculptures. When there is obvious enjoymentby the writers, of the process and of each other, itshows in the liveliness and verve of the resulting poem.In this spirit, we offer the following praise and criticism.We would like to commend both linking and shifting in all ofthe renku we received. Each has sequences, some quite long,that are delightful in the ways they connect and separate fromone stanza to the next. Take for example verses 9 -12 in TheSmell of Earth. Verses 9 and 10 give us the image of a bridewalking down the aisle as a storm approaches, wondering toherself whether she will be able to conceive in the eye of it.When verse 9 falls away and verse 10 is read with verse 11,the woman, instead of thinking to herself, seems to be sharingher concern with her lover, whose reply takes on a slightlyprofessorial tone, “let’s imagine / this magnetic tape / is yourDNA.” As we move on to consider verse 11 with verse 12,the speaker of “let’s imagine…” becomes, perhaps, a borderpatrolman, and the whole tone of the paired verses takes ona hard, sarcastic edge. This is superb connecting. Another sequencein this poem worth studying is 15-20. It was this kindof variety and imagination, as well as deft linking and shiftingthat earned The Smell of Earth the Grand Prize.Look at the passage of verses 7 through 10 in “a glass of red,”a nijuin renku and our choice for First Honorable Mention.In verses 7 and 8 we see a couple standing together beforetheir heirloom bed (7), one clad scantily in lingerie (8). Whenverse 7 fades into the background and verse 8 is read withverse 9, the scene shifts to an art studio and the implicationmade is that the subjects formerly seen as lovers are now anartist and a model. Continuing, when verses 9 and 10 are read. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .100 Haiku Society of America

together, the scene shifts outdoors to where a plein-air painteris capturing a locomotive on canvas!We found another example of good link-and-shift techniquein The Hour, also a nijuin renku and our second choice for anHonorable Mention. Consider verses 8-11. Reading 8 and9 together, we can imagine someone on the computer readinge-mail and checking out a site on the Internet with a map ofthe battles of the Civil War. Verse 10 moves that map fromthe Internet to a human body, where it is seen in the formof a tattoo. The person who was a rather neutral observer inverse 9 now offers a point of view. Read with verse 10, verse11 changes the scene to a supermarket and the person with atattoo is suddenly thumping melons while grocery shopping.The linkage could be interpreted in more than one way: thatthere is an “art” to selecting a melon (by thumping its “body”)or that the melon itself is nature’s “art.”The good writing in The Smell of Earth fell off toward theend. Starting with verse 30, the connections are a bit too obvious(harvester — bale/hay — needle — clue — maze). Fourof the last seven stanzas have to do with finding things (theneedle, a clue, a way out of the maze, and a new level); two,34 and 36 (the ageku itself), link penultimately to stanzas 32and 34 respectively. The delight we felt throughout the restof the renku was thereby diminished. In addition to these difficultiesthe ageku itself, required to express a spring theme,features no such kigo. We understand that it is hard to sustainenergy to the end of a thirty-six stanza poem. If this renkuwas written at a single sitting then the writers did very wellup to verse 30 and are to be commended for consistently highquality writing up to that point. A good variety of topicswas covered with few instances of repetition. Two werenotable, however, occupations (stanzas 8, 21, and 26),and tools (stanzas 1, 32). Generally, a minimal repetitionof subject-matter (in this case tools) is not a problem ifthere’s sufficient space between the references, but sincethe first mention of a tool comes in the hokku, the mentionof another, anywhere in the renku, is a serious oversight.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Frogpond 32:2 101

The poems chosen for Honorable Mentions also ran into difficultiestoward their conclusions. In “a glass of red” verses17 and 18 seem too close (small town / Dorothy / Kansas).More problematic, its lovely closing verses use summer kigo(picnic baskets and cottonwood fluff) rather than the spring kigorequired. There is also an imbalance between natural scenesand stanzas featuring human topics, the latter accounting forabout 3/4 of this renku’s subject matter.The Houralso weakened toward the end. After verses 15-17linked “bond” and “bound” to a quote about duty, the dictumof Murphy’s law continues the theme. In addition to this,the blossom verse presents a summer flower before the finalspring verse.We are happy to note that, of the three renku we chose tohonor, two were written by more than two poets. Our feelingis that renku’s greatest wealth lies in the variety of voices involved—themore the merrier. It’s what makes renku-writingso amazing.We enjoyed reading all the poems submitted to this year’scontest. Our critique is offered with the best of intentions andwe hope that our thought processes will prove useful to thosewho wish to refine their renku-writing skills.Christopher Herold, WashingtonPatricia Machmiller, California. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .102 Haiku Society of America

HSA PatronsOur thanks to these members who have made gifts beyondtheir memberships to support HSA and its work.Sponsors(Gifts Of More Than $100)Edith Bartholomeusz, Rita Gray, Scott Mason, James A. Paulson,Michael Roach.Donors(Gifts Of More Than $50)Eric Arthen, David Ash, Gayle Bull, David Caruso,Marilyn Di Perna, George C. Dorsty, Ruth Franke, JeffreyHanson, Merle D. Hinchee, Liga Jahnke, GeorgeQ. Johnson Jr., Elizabeth Kasevich, Marilyn Murphy,Judith Benet Richardson, David H. Rosen, Jeff Stillman, JennieTownsend, Shigemoto Yasuhiko.Friends(Gifts Of More Than $33)Gretchen Batz, Cathy Drinkwater Better, Harold Dumont,Muriel Ford, William Scott Galasso, Carolyn Graetz, JudithIngram, Michael Kiella, Marylouise Knight, Susan MarieLaVallee, Kent Lolling, Mankh, Rita Z. Mazur, Linda Palermo,William N. Pauly, Karen Reynolds, Ce Rosenow, JohnF. Scheers, Helen L. Shaffer, Nancy Smith, Laurie Stoelting,Alice Mae Ward, Ronald Webster, Michael Dylan Welch, IreneWilson, Virginia W. Wrenn.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Frogpond 32:2 103

Index of AuthorsAbe, Kan’ichi, 78-80Anderson, Hortensia, 7, 46Antonovic, Aurora, 60an’ya, 6Arnold, Bob, 85Arthen, Eric, 27Attard, Francis, 34Bailey, Raquel D., 28Banwarth, Francine, 27Barber, Collin, 30, 43Barlow, John, 34Barry, Jack, 17Bashō, Matsuo,Beary, Roberta, 52Bell, Faith-Anne, 13Bessler, John, 13Better, Cathy D., 20Blaine, Michael, 10Blodgett, E.D. 74-77Blyth, R.H., 71Borrell, Nola, 35Brickley, Chuck, 29, 44Buson, Yosa, 70-72Buettner, Marjorie A., 6, 49, 80Butterworth, Karen P., 29, 55Carley, John E., 8, 46Carter, R.P., 24Carter, Terry A., 5Chang, Shelly, 60Chang, Yu, 27, 60, 95-96Chula, Margaret, 48Cihlar, Lisa, 50Clarke, Lyall, 24Clement, Joyce, 32Colón, Carlos, 27, 88Constable, Susan, 21Cook, Wanda D., 28Corman, Cid, 85Cullen Jr., William, 8Dancy, Carolyn C., 25Davidson, Anne LB, 19de Gruttola, Raffael, 25, 80-81Deming, Kristen, 90Deodhar, Angelee, 15, 58Dorsty, George G., 28Dunn, Deborah, 20Dunphy, John J., 24Edge, Lynn, 49Elliot, David, 30Engle, Margarita, 22Evans, Judson, 7, 80-81Faiers, Chris, 81Fessler, Michael, 14Ford, Lorin, 13Ford, Muriel, 18Forrester, Stanford, 81Frampton, Alice, 10Fredua-Agyeman, Nana, 15Friedman, Abigail, 12Galasso, William S., 17Gay, Garry, 62George, Heidi, 5Gershator, David, 9Giddens, Desire, 90Giesecke, Lee, 9, 88Gilbert, Richard, 75Gilli, Ferris, 91-94Gorman, LeRoy, 33Guenther, Dan, 82Hall, Carolyn, 23, 45Harris, Mark F., 7Harvey, Michele, 97-98Hashiguchi, Hitoshi, 80Heinisch, Martina, 5Henderson, Harold G., 72Herold, Christopher, 46, 99-102Holt, John, 21. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .104 Haiku Society of America

Hopkins, Gregory, 11Hosomi, Ayako, 78Hotham, Gary, 16Howard, Elizabeth, 25Ichino, Kiyoko, 78Itō, Tagui, 78-80Iwashita, Shijūkara, 80Jones, Colin, 27Jones, Ken, 7, 81-82Jorgensen, Jean, 19Kacian, Jim, 70-73, 74-77Kennedy, Charles, 82Kennedy, Steve, 82Kenney, Bill, 26Kiella, Michael, 51Klein, Karen, 80-81Kolodji, Deborah P., 36, 61Krumins, Anita, 2, 108Kyosuke, Kindaichi, 73Lamb, Elizabeth, 40-42Larsson, Marcus, 5La Vallee, Susan M., 19Leger, Dehaj, 4Linzbach, Erik, 32Lippy, Burnell, 30Luckring, Eve, 21Lucky, Bob, 11, 50, 89Lyles, Peggy W., 22, 91-94Machmiller, Patricia, 99-102MacNeil, Paul W., 91-94,95-96MacRury, Carole, 82Madelin, Naomi, 20Mainone, Robert, 18Mankh, 69Marra, Michael F., 83Marshall, Ian, 83-84Martin, James, 12Martone, John, 20Index of AuthorsMason, Scott, 33Mayr, Diane, 28McClintock, Michael, 9McCotter, Clare, 25McCullough, Dan, 22McDonald, Tanya, 32McDonald, Tyrone, 7McInerney, Jo, 15Metz, Scott, 36, 84Missias, A.C., 18, 84Miyamori, Asataro, 71Montreuil, Mike, 15Mori, Sumio, 79Moritake, Arakida, 71Moss, Ron, 46Mountain, Marlene, 73Moyer, Robert, 13Muirhead, Marsh, 10Murphy, Joan, 19Murphy, Marilyn, 20Noyes, H.F., 37, 88Ogiwara, Seisensui, 78Olberg, Audrey, 17Olson, Marian, 38-42Ortolani, Al, 12Osterhaus, Mark A., 16Owen, Renée, 33, 59owen, w.f., 29, 54Painting, Tom, 8, 90Pakan, Nicole, 84Partridge, Brent, 78-80, 88-89Patchel, Christopher, 36Pearce-Worthington, Carol, 53Pendrey, Jeremy, 17, 90Peters, Stephen A., 24Pfleuger Jr., Paul, 34Piko, Greg, 16Pilarski, Linda, 8Pilarski, Patrick M., 24, 56,84, 88. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Frogpond 32:2 105

Index of AuthorsPoston, Stacey, 36Proctor, Vanessa, 31, 54Rader, Zhanna P., 62-64Ramesh, Kala, 12Reidy, Jessica, 11Reynolds, Karen, 35Rodning, Charles B., 14Root-Bernstein, Michele, 30Rosenow, Ce, 85, 108Rosenthal, David, 31Ross, Bruce, 12, 85Rotella, Alexis, 5Rumpel, Lyle, 6Russell, Helen, 85-86Schwader, Ann K., 10Schwerin, Dan, 11Seward, Vaughn, 62-64Sexton, John, 26Shaw, Adelaide B., 35, 61Sheehan, Eileen, 32Shepherd, Katrina, 35Shibuya, Michi, 79Shiki, Masaoka, 70-73Simpson, Sandra, 26Soules, John, 22Spurr, Melissa, 15Steel, Lynne, 21Stepenoff, Bonnie, 23Stevenson, John, 23, 95-96,97-98Stillman, Jeff, 28Strang, Barbara, 52Swede, G., 2, 3, 80-87, 108Takayama, Reona, 79Tann, Hilary, 95-96Tauchner, Dietmar, 11Taylor, Eva, 46Theodoru, Ștefan, 86Thompson, John, 44, 62Thoreau, Henry D., 38, 83-84Thurston, Doris H., 14Tico, Tom, 18Tipton, James, 86Tito, 10Tze, Chuang/Sōshi, 71van den Heuvel, Cor, 88Verbeke, Geert, 87Verink, Elizabeth A., 87Ward, Alice M., 37Ward, Linda J., 25, 46, 89Webb, Diana, 57Welch, Michael D., 65-69West, Harriot, 31, 53White, Christopher, 34White, Mark A., 37Williams, B. Elllis, 59Wilson, Billie, 45Wood, Nora, 16Yarrow, Ruth, 14Yotsuya, Ryū, 79Young, Quendryth, 47Zabratynski, Rafal, 30, 43Zeami, Motokiyo, 71. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .106 Haiku Society of America

HSA Officers & Regional CoordinatorsThe Haiku Society of AmericaP.O. Box 31, Nassau, NY 12123Established 1968Co-Founders: Harold G. Henderson and Leroy KantermanOfficers:President: Lenard D. Moore, 5625 Continental Way, Raleigh, NC 27610-54761st V-President: Carmen Sterba, 6110 Lakewood Dr. W., Apt. 8, Univ. Place, WA 98467-34442nd V-President: Francine Banwarth, 985 S. Grandview Ave., Dubuque, IA 52003-7898Secretary: Dave Baldwin, 14573 NE 35th Street C-103, Bellevue, WA 98007Treasurer: Paul Miller, 31 Seal Island Road, Bristol, RI 02809Newsletter Editor: Mike Rehling, 32825 Myrna St., Livonia, MI 48154Electronic Media Officer: Randy Brooks, 3720 N. Woodridge Dr., Decatur, IL 62526-1117Frogpond Editor: George Swede, gswede@ryerson.caFrogpond Assistant Editor: Anita Krumins, akrumins@ryerson.caFrogpond Postal Address: Box 279, Station P, Toronto, ON M5S 2S8Regional Coordinators:NE/New England: Lawrence Rungren, 1 Tanglewood Way N., Andover, MA 01810-1616NE Metro: Miriam Borne, 232 E. 2nd St., Apt.. 4D, New York, NY10009-8042Mid Atlantic: Ellen Compton, 5425 Connecticut Ave. NW, Apt. 217, Washington, DC 20015South: Howard Lee Kilby, P.O. Box 1260, Hot Springs, AR 71902-1260Southeast: Peter Meister, 959 Old Gurley Pike, New Hope, AL 35760-9367Midwest: Joe Kirschner, 1500 Chicago Ave., Apt. 815, Evanston, IL 60201Plains & Mountains: Chad Lee Robinson, 323 South Ree St., Apt. 5, Pierre, SD 57501Southwest: Cliff Roberts, 5008 Flagstone Dr., Fort Worth, TX 76114-1706California: Linda Galloway, 16723 La Maida St., Encino, CA 91436-1037Oregon: Ce Rosenow, 815 E. 28th Ave., Eugene, OR 97405-4127Washington: Michael Dylan Welch, 22230 NE 28th Place, Sammamish, WA 98074-6408Hawaii/Pacific: Susan Marie LaVallee, 834 Wanaao Rd., Kailua, HI 06734-3563Alaska: Mark Arvid White, PO Box 1771, Palmer, AK 99645. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Frogpond 32:2 107

From The EditorsOn April 27, 2009, David Wright, the Editor, Directory of Periodicalsfor the Modern Language Association, approved ourapplication to have Frogpond listed in the prestigious MLAInternational Bibliography. This means that students andscholars around the world who want to learn about the haikuand its related forms in English will now be able to find theHaiku Society of America’s offical journal in the company ofother outstanding literary periodicals.The implications of this cannot be overstated—MLA’s recognitionof Frogpond means that haiku, senryu, renku, rengay,tan renga and haibun, in all their variations, as well ascommentary and criticism involving these forms, have beenofficially recognized by the literary establishment as worthyof study by the hundreds of thousands of persons who consultthe MLA International Bibliography each year.As a consequence, those who submit essays and reviews toFrogpond will have to reference even more carefully anydata, ideas or quotes not originating with them.We want to thank Ce Rosenow at the University of Oregon forsuggesting that we send an application to the MLA.As always, we look forward to your feedback.George Swede, EditorAnita Krumins, Assistant Editor. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .108 Haiku Society of America