Reading Kerouac and Ikkyū together, as I've been doing, you see immediately their kindred spirits. Jack here violates every haiku rule and yet the poem could not be any more haiku-like then it already is. Ikkyū is playing it a little more straight his lovely tankaesque poem.
These little books that fit in the palm of your hand (.pdf) have been such a delightful way to sustain me as I work through the bigger project I have on my plate (which the closer I get to it, the bigger it is - who'd a thunk?). Master Issa must have something to say of this?
My reading of late is strictly in the history of English language haiku and I was extremely pleased to run across praise for Jack's early work in the form by no less a luminary than Cor van den Heuvel (in his volume, Baseball Haiku). Going through Jack's Book of Haikus (tangentially to the writing project I've been working on) once more, very slowly, has been a true delight.
Here's a little Sunday something that deserves to be #130 on Issa's Sunday Service - it's got the cred - but let's just enjoy for now, eh? I was going to use the Blues Project's more well-known rendition but the legendary composer, Eric Andersen, didn't trim the lyrics back, so I went that way.
And they, those lyrics, are gorgeous ...
(P.S. Because the connections just never seem to stop, I just stumbled on the fact that Andersen was born in Pittsburgh, PA, and that he contributed "The Brooklyn Bridge Blues: Chorus 10," from The Book of Dharmas, for the Kicks Joy Darkness compilation, on the work of Jack Kerouac. Oh, yeah.)
Violets of Dawn - Eric Andersen
Take me to the night
I'm tippin' topsy turvy turning upside down
Hold me tight and whisper what you wish
For there is no one here around
Oh you may sing song me sweet smiles
Regardless of the city's careless frown
Come watch the no colors fade blazing
Into petal sprays of Violets of Dawn
In blindful wonderments enchantments
You can lift my wings softly to fly
Your eyes are like swift fingers reaching out
Into the pockets of my night
Whirling twirling puppy warm
before the flashing cloaks of darkness gone
Come see the no colors fade blazing
Into petal sprays of Violets of Dawn
Some Prince Charming I'll be
On two white steeds to bring you
dappled diamond crowns
And climb your tower Sleeping Beauty
Before you ever know I've left the ground
You can wear a Cinderella Snow White
Alice Wonderland-ed gown
Come watch the no colors fade blazing
Into petal sprays of Violets of Dawn
But if I seem to wander off in dream like looks
Please let me settle slowly
It's only me just staring out at you
A seeming stranger speaking holy
I don't mean to wake you up
it's only loneliness just coming on
So let the no colors fade blazing
into petal sprays Of Violets Of Dawn
Like shadows bursting into mist
Behind the echoes of this nonsense song
It's just chasing whispering trail
Of secret steps see them laughing on
There's magic in the sleepiness of waking
to a childish sounding yawn
Come watch the no colors fade blazing
Into petal sprays of Violets of Dawn.
(If you have trouble with the above link, cut and paste this:
http://www.newyorker.com/online/blogs/books/2012/06/neil-young-and-patti-smith.html)
Speaking of writing, I will be doing a lot more of it in the foreseeable future, just not nearly as much here at Issa's Untidy Hut. I've been solicited to produce a piece of writing that I'm at once honored and humbled to be doing. It will take me more than a few months to do, so the lights will dim down here for awhile, though they won't go out entirely.
I'm going to try to live up to my Wednesday Haiku commitment to post once a week and, if I miss a week now and again, at least you may trust it's with good reason and not by neglect or intent.
What the writing project is I need to keep under wraps for the moment. You folks will be among the first to know once there is clearance.
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