Someone sent around the following poem and exerpt:
this deserted mountain
the aged farmer
digging wild potatoes
-- Bashô
"Where the mood of the moment is solitary and quiet it is called sabi...
Sabi is loneliness in the sense of Buddhist detachment,
of seeing all things as happening "by themselves" in miraculous
spontaneity. With this goes that sense of deep, illimitable
quietude which descends with a long fall of snow, swallowing all
sounds in layer upon layer of softness." - Alan Watts, The Way of Zen
Ah, that old sabi nonsense. What a mysterious cult Westerners have made of it!
Sabi means 'rust'. Plain and simple. Thus, sabi is the Japanese 'rustic.' It only appears exotic thanks to the distance in time, space, and culture. More broadly sabi means 'patina of age' which is to say, the deteriorating effect on things caused by age of which rust is the most obvious example, but includes the weathering of wood, the fading of clothing, the build up of soot, etc.
Basho was an urbanite and required an urban setting to make his living, but he did not care for the rat race and tried to opt out as much as possible. Edo had a population of more than a million people in Basho's day. It was a bustling, sophisticated city, obsessed with making money, climbing the ladder of ambition, and enjoying the pleasures of theater, sex, and alcohol. In other words, it was a lot like New York City. I think this is the reason why Basho appeals to us. He tried to resolve the tension between the attractive, yet unnatural, life in the city and his own human need for something deeper and more lasting.
The poem above is an excellent example of sabi -- a rural location, an old peasant, gathering wild foods. It was Basho's genius to appreciate such things; in this he follows the tea aesthetic established by Sen no Rikyu approximately a hundred and fifty years earlier. Basho was rebelling against a materialistic, urban life. Rikyu also rebelled against the conspicuous consumption that had been the hallmark of the tea ceremony in his day; it was Rikyu who made the door to the tea hut so small that even the shogun had to get down on his knees and crawl.
To chase after Zen does no good if one doesn't give up materialism and consumerism. If materialism and consumerism are abandoned, there is no need for Zen. Zen is not about doing or not doing. Zen just is.
~K~
Wednesday, August 16, 2006
Tuesday, August 08, 2006
Love Tanka
Since I am editing Fire Pearls: Short Masterpieces of the Human Heart, it might logically be asked whether I know anything about writing love poetry. I like to think that I do -- I started writing tanka to impress a woman. It worked. And, after further scientific analysis, purely for the altruistic reason of enhancing our understanding of tanka, I can also announce that it works on men as well.
In fact, I used to never think of publishing my poetry, but in 2004 when my friends started asking me if I'd written any more poetry, and listening to it dreamy-eyed, then beating up their boyfriends for not writing them love poetry, I was forced to conclude that maybe I had something. Normally sane people flee the other way when they see an amateur poet coming.
Nonetheless, we must remember that Fire Pearls is not just love poetry, it is about the passions of the human heart, which may resemble love, but is actually a much larger field.
The following tanka are provided with dates so that you can trace the development of my style, if you have any interest in that sort of thing. Or you can just read the poems and enjoy, or laugh and point. It's all the same to me. They're a tiny fraction of my output of love poetry; the really good romantic ones are all committed to Fire Pearls.
I was not lonely
with the snow-capped heron
as my company;
but when my lover returned
the silence was desolate.
~K~ 2001
Previously appeared in SimplyHaiku.com, Summer, 2006.
The evening ocean
reflects silver moonshine like
a polished mirror.
The boat that rowed out early
this morning has not returned.
~K~ 2004
The boat above is Mansei's boat, in one of the oldest and best know of Japanese verses. His boat has been rowing through Japanese poetry for as long as Japanese poetry has been written down. When we are beginning, slavish imitation and derivation is good practice. Do what the masters did until you understand them, then throw away the rules and do as your poetry dictates.
yo no naka o
nani ni tatoemu
asabiraki
kogiinishi fune no
ato naki ga goto
~Sami Mansei
Our life in this world--
to what shall I compare it?
It is like a boat
rowing out at break of day,
leaving not a trace behind.
~trans. Steven D. Carter, Traditional Japanese Poetry
Cinnamon mornings
follow silk moons of August.
Styrofoam tea sits
quietly at my elbow,
teasing with remembered taste.
~K~ 2003
Previously appeared in My Town , 2006.
When my boys are here
the autumn nights fly past like
swallows in the dusk.
Autumn nights are long
only by repute.
~K~ 2003
Previously appeared in SimplyHaiku.com, Summer, 2006.
A pearl of rain
trembles at the tip
of a holly leaf.
She passes by,
and my heart falls.
~K~ 2005
Bemused,
he discovers his new book
belonged to someone else;
love messages
inside the cover.
~K~ Jan, 2006
My sister grieves
over her own gold star;
so I dread the blue one
my daughter seems determined
to give to me.
~K~ Feb 2006
NB. During WWI, Sons in Service flags were displayed in the windows of families with service members serving. One blue star was placed for each family member on active duty. If the service member died, the star was changed to blue. My nephew, SFC Joshua Lee Omvig, committed suicide after his tour in Iraq due to untreated Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. His brother still serves. The men and women of our family have served in every war since the French and Indian War.
Beside the road,
only the hawk’s tail recognizable
amid the shattered feathers;
I say another prayer
for our fallen soldier.
~K~ Apr 2006
I’d sleep
if sleep were safe,
but I fear
the ruin
of my dreams.
~K~ Jun 2006
A single boot
tossed casually aside,
suddenly I remember
how long it has been
since I heard from her.
~K~ Jun 2006
Her going
is a bright loss
from which I
will never
recover.
~K~ Jun 2006
The sternest mountain
crumbles into dust and
washes to the sea;
it forms a sandy beach
where my love walks.
~K~ Jun 2006
if you came
(but you didn’t)
if you had come
(but still you won’t)
maybe...
~K~ Jul 2006
coitus interuptus --
suddenly I realize
my dead mother
can see me
having sex
~K~ Aug 2006
Ah yes. It's a long way from Mansei's boat to coitus interruptus, but logically, if you believe in the afterlife, whether it be Buddhist or something else, then we must also conclude that the living have no privacy from the dead. It's enough to make an atheist of any man. Since I happen to be a person of faith, it's a real conundrum. I just hope she skips over those parts of my life the same way she skipped over sex scenes in the novels.
In fact, I used to never think of publishing my poetry, but in 2004 when my friends started asking me if I'd written any more poetry, and listening to it dreamy-eyed, then beating up their boyfriends for not writing them love poetry, I was forced to conclude that maybe I had something. Normally sane people flee the other way when they see an amateur poet coming.
Nonetheless, we must remember that Fire Pearls is not just love poetry, it is about the passions of the human heart, which may resemble love, but is actually a much larger field.
The following tanka are provided with dates so that you can trace the development of my style, if you have any interest in that sort of thing. Or you can just read the poems and enjoy, or laugh and point. It's all the same to me. They're a tiny fraction of my output of love poetry; the really good romantic ones are all committed to Fire Pearls.
I was not lonely
with the snow-capped heron
as my company;
but when my lover returned
the silence was desolate.
~K~ 2001
Previously appeared in SimplyHaiku.com, Summer, 2006.
The evening ocean
reflects silver moonshine like
a polished mirror.
The boat that rowed out early
this morning has not returned.
~K~ 2004
The boat above is Mansei's boat, in one of the oldest and best know of Japanese verses. His boat has been rowing through Japanese poetry for as long as Japanese poetry has been written down. When we are beginning, slavish imitation and derivation is good practice. Do what the masters did until you understand them, then throw away the rules and do as your poetry dictates.
yo no naka o
nani ni tatoemu
asabiraki
kogiinishi fune no
ato naki ga goto
~Sami Mansei
Our life in this world--
to what shall I compare it?
It is like a boat
rowing out at break of day,
leaving not a trace behind.
~trans. Steven D. Carter, Traditional Japanese Poetry
Cinnamon mornings
follow silk moons of August.
Styrofoam tea sits
quietly at my elbow,
teasing with remembered taste.
~K~ 2003
Previously appeared in My Town , 2006.
When my boys are here
the autumn nights fly past like
swallows in the dusk.
Autumn nights are long
only by repute.
~K~ 2003
Previously appeared in SimplyHaiku.com, Summer, 2006.
A pearl of rain
trembles at the tip
of a holly leaf.
She passes by,
and my heart falls.
~K~ 2005
Bemused,
he discovers his new book
belonged to someone else;
love messages
inside the cover.
~K~ Jan, 2006
My sister grieves
over her own gold star;
so I dread the blue one
my daughter seems determined
to give to me.
~K~ Feb 2006
NB. During WWI, Sons in Service flags were displayed in the windows of families with service members serving. One blue star was placed for each family member on active duty. If the service member died, the star was changed to blue. My nephew, SFC Joshua Lee Omvig, committed suicide after his tour in Iraq due to untreated Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. His brother still serves. The men and women of our family have served in every war since the French and Indian War.
Beside the road,
only the hawk’s tail recognizable
amid the shattered feathers;
I say another prayer
for our fallen soldier.
~K~ Apr 2006
I’d sleep
if sleep were safe,
but I fear
the ruin
of my dreams.
~K~ Jun 2006
A single boot
tossed casually aside,
suddenly I remember
how long it has been
since I heard from her.
~K~ Jun 2006
Her going
is a bright loss
from which I
will never
recover.
~K~ Jun 2006
The sternest mountain
crumbles into dust and
washes to the sea;
it forms a sandy beach
where my love walks.
~K~ Jun 2006
if you came
(but you didn’t)
if you had come
(but still you won’t)
maybe...
~K~ Jul 2006
coitus interuptus --
suddenly I realize
my dead mother
can see me
having sex
~K~ Aug 2006
Ah yes. It's a long way from Mansei's boat to coitus interruptus, but logically, if you believe in the afterlife, whether it be Buddhist or something else, then we must also conclude that the living have no privacy from the dead. It's enough to make an atheist of any man. Since I happen to be a person of faith, it's a real conundrum. I just hope she skips over those parts of my life the same way she skipped over sex scenes in the novels.
Saturday, August 05, 2006
Catching Up
I hardly know what to write. So it's been a month since I posted, enit? It hardly seems a minute. I've been hard at work and broiling in the heat. July wasn't such a good month, only 80 poems. A good month is 200+ and they come as easily as joy. My accomplishments have been scholarly rather than poetic, though I haven't any finished work to show for them.
I'm working on a large article about Tanka Structure, describing and explaining the various kinds of structures that have been used in the past and present, Japanese and English tanka, with examples culled from old masters and modern poets. Hopefully it will appear in the Winter issue of Modern English Tanka. I have to say, the more I learn, the more appalled I am at the general lack of knowledge about tanka in English. Oh, there are people who think they know about it, and there are even a few who do know something about it, but there are also some extremely well-known and respected names who have appalled me by revealing gaps in knowledge the size of the Grand Canyon.
In other places I have ranted about what I call 'American mannerism,' which is formulaic poetry whose predictably drives me up the wall. There is actually nothing wrong with the formula, what's wrong is that it is used over and over again and taken as the standard of what tanka should be. With the exception of Sanford Goldstein's entry, the winners in the 2006 Tanka Society of American Contest are all examples of this. Good examples, but mannered all the same. It's like watching a dog and pony show that only has one dog and it only knows one trick. It was clever the first time, but by the forty-seventh time the audience is filled with a desire to shoot the dog.
I have become a great admirer of Sanford Goldstein's poetry. His 1992 book, At the Hut of the Small Mind, can be read online at: http://www.ahapoetry.com/hut1book.htm. He has published five books of tanka, the first in 1977, the most recent in 2005. Over all these years his work is decidedly unmannered, direct, fresh, original, and honest. Influenced by Takonobu who said that tanka should be a record of the poet's emotional life, Goldstein's work is profoundly human. He stretches in all directions, attempting things that few poets try. Often he succeeds, sometimes he doesn't. But he never settles for what's easy.
I struck up a conversation with him when he submitted poetry to the anthology Fire Pearls: Short Masterpieces of the Human Heart, which I am editing. It was a heady moment, me, the unknown upstart, editing the Grand Old Man of Tanka! After an initial difference of opinion, we found we shared many views on tanka and editing and he very kindly sent me four of his books as a gift all the way from Japan. I admire his largeness of spirit that enables him to encompass all subjects; even eccentric me.
I have also been participating in the Tanka Roundtable. I seem to have talked myself into another scholarly article; Denis M. Garrison has been compiling bibliographic information. Being the kind of person who doesn't just surf the net, I spelunk it, I have been sending him quite a bit of bibliography for the TankaCentral.com bibliographies. I have set myself the goal of getting my hands on all the pre-1990 tanka ever published, the explosion of tanka after 1990 is a rather large task. But anyhow, I was in a position to contribute some historical information. Getting curious, I decided to organize the tanka in English bibliographic information into chronological order to see what could be seen.
Tanka Books in English (omits journals and websites)
pre-1915 0
1915-19 3
1920-24 1
1920-29 1
1930-34 0
1935-39 0
1940-44 1
1945-49 0
1950-54 0
1955-59 2
1960-64 1
1965-69 0
1970-74 3
1975-79 3
1980-84 2
1985-89 0
1990-94 11
1995-99 44
2000-04 59
2005-09 36 -- as of August 2006
Some very interesting trends emerged, prior to 1970, tanka was dominated by Japanese Americans, but in the 1970s and 1980s a transition occurred in which more Westerners started writing tanka. Then, as the figures show, tanka took off in the 1990s, and is going full tilt in the 21st century. Denis has asked for a full article about the history of tanka for the Spring issue of Modern English Tanka. Naturally, I said yes.
All this during a time of hardship. I don't make much money, and things have happened this summer to make things even harder. I'm surviving, but I fell into some gloomy moods. I was feeling quite gloomy today when a certain young man wrote me a challenge: he dared me to played at homoerotic linked verse with him. How could I refuse a request that began with 'Hi there handsome...' But the resulting poems are private for the time being. Suffice to say, some of this poet's work will be appearing in Fire Pearls .
August is off to a decent start poetically, already 36 poems written. I am not feeling the suppleness of June, but I'm doing better than July. In June I could sit down and write 50 good tanka in a single sitting. How I envy Sandy Goldstein going to his tanka cafe to write 30 poems and drink coffee to relax! But the man's retired. I'm still obliged to make a living.
~K~
I'm working on a large article about Tanka Structure, describing and explaining the various kinds of structures that have been used in the past and present, Japanese and English tanka, with examples culled from old masters and modern poets. Hopefully it will appear in the Winter issue of Modern English Tanka. I have to say, the more I learn, the more appalled I am at the general lack of knowledge about tanka in English. Oh, there are people who think they know about it, and there are even a few who do know something about it, but there are also some extremely well-known and respected names who have appalled me by revealing gaps in knowledge the size of the Grand Canyon.
In other places I have ranted about what I call 'American mannerism,' which is formulaic poetry whose predictably drives me up the wall. There is actually nothing wrong with the formula, what's wrong is that it is used over and over again and taken as the standard of what tanka should be. With the exception of Sanford Goldstein's entry, the winners in the 2006 Tanka Society of American Contest are all examples of this. Good examples, but mannered all the same. It's like watching a dog and pony show that only has one dog and it only knows one trick. It was clever the first time, but by the forty-seventh time the audience is filled with a desire to shoot the dog.
I have become a great admirer of Sanford Goldstein's poetry. His 1992 book, At the Hut of the Small Mind, can be read online at: http://www.ahapoetry.com/hut1book.htm. He has published five books of tanka, the first in 1977, the most recent in 2005. Over all these years his work is decidedly unmannered, direct, fresh, original, and honest. Influenced by Takonobu who said that tanka should be a record of the poet's emotional life, Goldstein's work is profoundly human. He stretches in all directions, attempting things that few poets try. Often he succeeds, sometimes he doesn't. But he never settles for what's easy.
I struck up a conversation with him when he submitted poetry to the anthology Fire Pearls: Short Masterpieces of the Human Heart, which I am editing. It was a heady moment, me, the unknown upstart, editing the Grand Old Man of Tanka! After an initial difference of opinion, we found we shared many views on tanka and editing and he very kindly sent me four of his books as a gift all the way from Japan. I admire his largeness of spirit that enables him to encompass all subjects; even eccentric me.
I have also been participating in the Tanka Roundtable. I seem to have talked myself into another scholarly article; Denis M. Garrison has been compiling bibliographic information. Being the kind of person who doesn't just surf the net, I spelunk it, I have been sending him quite a bit of bibliography for the TankaCentral.com bibliographies. I have set myself the goal of getting my hands on all the pre-1990 tanka ever published, the explosion of tanka after 1990 is a rather large task. But anyhow, I was in a position to contribute some historical information. Getting curious, I decided to organize the tanka in English bibliographic information into chronological order to see what could be seen.
Tanka Books in English (omits journals and websites)
pre-1915 0
1915-19 3
1920-24 1
1920-29 1
1930-34 0
1935-39 0
1940-44 1
1945-49 0
1950-54 0
1955-59 2
1960-64 1
1965-69 0
1970-74 3
1975-79 3
1980-84 2
1985-89 0
1990-94 11
1995-99 44
2000-04 59
2005-09 36 -- as of August 2006
Some very interesting trends emerged, prior to 1970, tanka was dominated by Japanese Americans, but in the 1970s and 1980s a transition occurred in which more Westerners started writing tanka. Then, as the figures show, tanka took off in the 1990s, and is going full tilt in the 21st century. Denis has asked for a full article about the history of tanka for the Spring issue of Modern English Tanka. Naturally, I said yes.
All this during a time of hardship. I don't make much money, and things have happened this summer to make things even harder. I'm surviving, but I fell into some gloomy moods. I was feeling quite gloomy today when a certain young man wrote me a challenge: he dared me to played at homoerotic linked verse with him. How could I refuse a request that began with 'Hi there handsome...' But the resulting poems are private for the time being. Suffice to say, some of this poet's work will be appearing in Fire Pearls .
August is off to a decent start poetically, already 36 poems written. I am not feeling the suppleness of June, but I'm doing better than July. In June I could sit down and write 50 good tanka in a single sitting. How I envy Sandy Goldstein going to his tanka cafe to write 30 poems and drink coffee to relax! But the man's retired. I'm still obliged to make a living.
~K~
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