Monday, October 31, 2011

John Martone: Monday Twitter Poem, 10/31/11

 Photo by Kevin Higgins




this
stream
bed's

my
spine
too
John Martone 
Lilliput Review, #167








downstream, the gate
to knowledge...
evening's red leaves
Issa
translated by David G. Lanoue





Photo by Jim Sandstein








best,
Don



Send a single haiku for the Wednesday Haiku feature. Here's how.

Go to the LitRock web site for a list of all 125 songs

Sunday, October 30, 2011

Cool 'N" Out: Issa's Sunday Service, #125





 
 
 

This is the second appearance of Joe Strummer and the Mescaleros on the Sunday Service and today's is strictly about chilling out, which is exactly what I'm doing and am recommending for you.

This is still another tune that takes off from the Bible, today's literary connection.  The lyrics are, um, interesting.  Enjoy.


Cool 'n' Out

Late news breaking this just in
Late news breaking this just in
Yeah, coolin' out
Yeah, coolin' out
Yeah, coolin' out

God sure baked a lot of fruitcake, baby
When Adam met the Eden lady
They're walking the streets and they're driving cars
They're all over the country and they're running ours
They're walking on the wounded who won the war
What's the matter people - was it worth fighting for
Coolin' out

Fix that gauge or you run out of gas
A cool operator can make it last
Say, from here to Indiana and across Illinois
We're rockin the girls and a-boppin' on the boys
And I spot a little bitty on a little bam-bam
That pill poppers hopping on a city bound tram

The stars go in and the stars go out
And punk rock what it's all about
And even when you're ch-ch-ch-ch-chillin' out
You're wondering what's it all about
Coolin' out, coolin' out, coolin' out

At the G7 summit, well we've got some 25
And we're putting it into the gin supply
We want a satellite crashing outta the skies
And a firework display by ballistic missiles
I got a sneeky feeling that the poker's getting hot
Cos twice times bitten and it's third time shot, third time shot

Oh, the stars go in and the stars go out
And punk rock what it's all about
And even when you're ch-ch-ch-ch-chillin' out
You're wondering what's it all about
Coolin'
What's it all about
Let somebody else figure it out

What's it all about, what's it all about
The stars go in and the stars go out
Punk rock what it's all about
And even when you're ch-ch-ch-ch-chillin' out
Wondering what's it all about, what's it all about
What's it all about


----------------------


This week's feature poem from http://sites.google.com/site/lilliputreview/newarchivethe Lilliput archive is from issue #63 (here you'll find 7 more poems from the same issue). Enjoy.


Lilies

   This book is open like a church
   and curved as a body blossoming
   sideways from the spine.
   These poems are hands
   that do not want to closed.
     Nicole Pekarske








lilies blooming
with no one's sanction...
evening
Issa
translated by David G. Lanoue




best,
Don



Send a single haiku for the Wednesday Haiku feature. Here's how.

Go to the LitRock web site for a list of all 125 songs

Friday, October 28, 2011

Kenneth Rexroth: Sky Sea Birds Trees Earth House Beasts Flowers




I ran across this beautiful little Kenneth Rexroth book, Sky Sea Birds Trees Earth House Beast Flowers, in a local Pittsburgh used and rare bookshop, Caliban. The book comes from Unicorn Press, which I've written about before previously in a review of Hyakunin Isshu: 100 Poems by 100 Poets, back in April of this year. You can find plenty of info on this, one of America's finest small presses, back in that post, so I'll skip the background here.


This particular volume was published in 1971, is 1 of 375 trade copies and contains 11 poems with 13 pieces of art, all done by Rexroth himself. The poems, as well as the brushwork, are all Eastern inflected.



Slowly the moon rises
Over the quiet sea.
Slowly the face of my beloved
Forms in my mind.



The parallel feel of the two sets of two lines has the sensibility of haiku, minus the denouement. The comparison of memory to nature is an interesting one; there seems also to be an implied parallel as to time duration of the two events. Any poem that brings the human into nature, either in contrast or, even better, in harmony, has my close attention, as does this one.


Spring puddles give way
To young grass.
In the garden,
Willow catkins
Change to singing birds.



This might be easily characterized as waka, though the form is more specifically reminiscent of tanka, without the overt romantic element. Whatever it is called is not particularly relevant, except perhaps for the scholar. Here we are completely immersed in nature, presented with examples of the myriad changes which happen right before our eyes and yet so often go unseen. What I most admire here is that Rexroth has captured the miraculous quality of these changes by making them feel almost magical.

Of course that is just what it is, a miracle, a bit of natural magic, right before our eyes, which is seen so many times without seeing that it has become "ordinary" enough to ignore



A dawn in a tree of birds.
Another,
And then another.



This may be my favorite poem of the collection. Is it a haiku? Seen from one angle, not really, from another most definitely. How so? If seen as a series of days, it is closer in spirit to the previous poem, which takes place over a long period of time, hence not a haiku (if capturing a single moment is part of your haiku requirement). Seen from the other side, however, this could be a series of immediate moments, contiguous, taking place in mere seconds, as the rising light first hits one bird, than another, than another.

In fact, it doesn't have to be light at all directly hitting the tree - it could be the light breaking on the horizon and each individual bird's response, one after the other after the other, in song.

Yes, I like this poem very much.


Past midnight,
In the dark,
Under the winter stars,
Tendrils of ice
Creep through the duckweed.



This is another special poem, tanka-esque in form, which thrusts a human right in the middle of natural things. This poem has a bit of an ominous quality; it is past midnight, dark without moonlight, and our sense of hearing allows us to hear something creeping through the duckweed. Though the hearer realizes it is ice creeping and not some predator, still the tone of "creep" feels foreboding. The beauty here is that, though not a sentient being in our usual sense of understanding, ice does creep, so Rexroth has not committed any anthropomorphic hocus-pocus, something which would immediately turn me off.

In addition, ice creeping may have a truly ominous quality for one exposed to the elements without proper clothing and food. It may be winter that is doing the creeping, which may be something properly feared.



The years pass.
The generations
Of birds pass too.
You must watch carefully.
The same towhees and jays
Seem to have been in the same
Places
To thousands of generations
Of men.



This fifth poem captures some of the aspects of the poems already noted, particularly the passage of time. Thousands of generations of men pass through this poem, yet the poet admonishes his readers to watch carefully in the moment to see all time pass before you, a perfect conflation of eternity and the now.

One might almost say eternity in a moment: satori.

Fine, fine, fine stuff. Copies of this amazing little hand-sewn chapbook can be had much cheaper than I paid for it ($15) or you can pay a lot more. It's only money and this is only poetry (and art).

I'm thinking either way it's a bargain.  I know I got off cheap.


One of 13 pieces of art

-------------------------

This week's poem from the Lilliput archive comes from issue #102, January 1999.    Once again Alan Catlin's painterly eye is in evidence, a master at work.





The Poet's Room

  Frayed chairs, shadows
  curve from windows
  mirrors silent as footprints
  covered by dew.

                  Alan Catlin







looking younger than me
the scarecrow casts
his shadow
Issa
translated by David G. Lanoue






best,
Don



Send a single haiku for the Wednesday Haiku feature. Here's how.

Go to the LitRock web site for a list of all 124 songs

Wednesday, October 26, 2011

Eric Burke and Pat Nelson: Wednesday Haiku #41





Wednesday Haiku, #40 



Our children:
we cannot escape
political poems


        Eric Burke





Photo by smallwon





snow mound
the sparrow widens its stance
against the wind

                 Pat Nelson





Photo by Jimmy Palma Gil






introducing their children
to society...
strutting sparrows
Issa
translated by David G. Lanoue





best,
Don



Send a single haiku for the Wednesday Haiku feature. Here's how.

Go to the LitRock web site for a list of all 124 songs


Tuesday, October 25, 2011

Tuesday Call, Wednesday Haiku: Poems Wanted

Photo of ribbon eel by Steve Childs


Recently, to catch up on a 7 month backlog, I started publishing two haiku per week on the Wednesday Haiku postings.  I've caught up relatively quickly and so am again seeking poems.  I'm kind of enjoying the interplay of 3 poems (2 haiku, plus one poem by Issa) and photographs, so would like to continue the two per week feature. 

However, if I do I'm liable to run out of poems soon.  So, there are two choices: 1) solicit more poems (come on folks, send 'em this way - these are the guidelines, as originally posted, for sending, and 2) go back to the one poem (plus Issa) a week format. 

Either way is fine, but more is better.  That's just my opinion of course.

So send work along anytime.  Please follow the guidelines, as noted above.




a long day--
the eel catcher writes pictures
on the water
Issa
translated by David G. Lanoue





best,
Don



Send a single haiku for the Wednesday Haiku feature. Here's how.

Go to the LitRock web site for a list of all 124 songs

Monday, October 24, 2011

Natalia L. Rudychev: Monday Twitter Poem, 10/24/11

Photo by penywise






i stumble
the pebble shows
its darker side
      Natalia L. Rudychev






Photo by Imma








autumn wind--
the mountain's shadow
is trembling

Issa
translated by David G. Lanoue





best,
Don



Send a single haiku for the Wednesday Haiku feature. Here's how.

Go to the LitRock web site for a list of all 124 songs

 

Sunday, October 23, 2011

Dirty Blvd.: Issa's Sunday Service, #124







Perhaps it is appropriate, with the Occupy the World movement (including Sesame Street) in full swing, that this week's selection is Lou Reed's powerful "Dirty Blvd."  It is one of Lou's heavy narrative lyrics and he manages to turn Emma Lazarus "The New Colossus" on its head with a swift backhand:




The New Colossus

   Not like the brazen giant of Greek fame
   With conquering limbs astride from land to land;
   Here at our sea-washed, sunset gates shall stand
   A mighty woman with a torch, whose flame
   Is the imprisoned lightning, and her name
   Mother of Exiles.  From her beacon-hand
   Glows world-wide welcome; her mild eyes command
   The air-bridged harbor that twin cities frame,
   "Keep, ancient lands, your storied pomp!" cries she
   With silent lips.  "Give me your tired, your poor,
   Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
   The wretched refuse of your teeming shore,
   Send these, the homeless, tempest-tossed to me,
   I lift my lamp beside the golden door!"
                     Emma Lazarus




In addition to paraphrasing lines to deadly effect, Lou renames the famous Statue itself:



Give me your hungry, your tired,
your poor I'll piss on 'em
That's what the Statue of Bigotry says
Your poor huddled masses
Let's club 'em to death
And get it over with
and just dump 'em on the boulevard



Never one to take prisoners, Lou's perspective is every bit as relevant today in light of the recent nationwide protests as it was in 1989 when it first appeared on his dynamite New York album.  We think of this as an urban problem, but obviously its universality is becoming more and more apparent.

Here is a version of "Dirty Blvd.," along with "White Light, White Heat," done as a duet with David Bowie on the occasion of the later's 50th birthday.








-------------------


This week's featured poem from the archive comes from Lilliput Review, #64, December 1964, which has been featured before here and here.   This is the 12th poem featured from that issue and it's a good one.




When Asked To Name The Seven
        Most Beautiful Words. . .

              carnelian
              quince
              cloud
              fire
              gillyflower
              cane
              dusk
             Jeanne Shannon








red clouds--
above the butterfly too
autumn dusk
Issa
translated by David G. Lanoue
best,
Don



Send a single haiku for the Wednesday Haiku feature. Here's how.

Go to the LitRock web site for a list of all 124 songs

Saturday, October 22, 2011

"Fable of the Siren and the Drunks" by Pablo Neruda, via Moving Poems


Fábula de la Sirena y los Borrachos (Fable of the Siren and the Drunks) by Pablo Neruda from Dave Bonta.



As the caption says, courtesy of Dave Bonta, posted on Moving Poems, a fabulous blog I recommend checking in with regularly. Today's edition has beautiful poem by Pablo Neruda.  Enjoy.






they cry to each other
across a river
deer in love
Issa
translated by David G. Lanoue




best,
Don



Send a single haiku for the Wednesday Haiku feature. Here's how.

Go to the LitRock web site for a list of all 123 songs

 

Friday, October 21, 2011

3 Poems: Rengetsu, Merwin, and Charles Wright



What follows are three poems that somehow this week all gathered themselves around my feet, so many wind-blown leaves. They seem all to have the same tinge of color, or fragile tactility, or perhaps epistemology. Maybe, just maybe, the randomness of this gathering is the filter of the consciousness that attracted them or was attracted to them.

Maybe not.



Separation
   Your absence has gone through me 
   Like thread through a needle
   Everything I do is stitched with its color.
                                                               W. S. Merwin
 






Self-Portrait in 2035
   The root becomes him, the road ruts
   That are sift and grain in the powderlight
   Recast him, sink bone in him
   Blanket and creep up, fine, fine:

   Worm-waste and pillow tick; hair
   Prickly and dust-dangled, his arms and black shoes
   Unlinked and laceless, his face false
   In the wood-rot, and past pause . . .

   Darkness, erase these lines, forget these words.
   Spider recite his one sin

                                       Charles Wright






Mountain Falling Flowers
   We accept the graceful falling
   Of mountain cherry blossoms,
   But it is much harder for us
   To fall away from our own
   Attachment to this world.
                                                              Rengetsu
                                                              translated by John Stevens





The Merwin was sent along by a friend who knows how much I cherish Merwins's most recent book, The Shadows of Sirius.   It is the second time in recent weeks I've delved into China Trace, Charles Wright's early 1977 collection, prompted by his sensational recent volume, Sestets.   The Rengetsu, which comes from the book Lotus Moon (recently republished by White Pine Press) was a library gifting from still another friend, who brought it to my attention.  I, of course, snapped it up upon its return to said library.

I'm rich in friends as well as poetry.

Over the last month or so, I've been trying to find the time to write about a little collection of Kenneth Rexroth's entitled Sky Sea Birds Trees Earth House Beasts Flowers.  I'll get there one of these days, along with perhaps an overview of Sestets, which I was so completely taken with that I returned the library copy I'd taken out and bought one of my own.

So why these poems?

With the Merwin poem, the first two lines seem commonplace, almost pedestrian, than he wacks you over the head with the iron skillet of a third line ... no, let me try that again.  With the Merwin poem, the first two lines are commonplace, almost pedestrian, than he seduces you smoothly with a touch of warm breath behind the ear.

That's better. 

If the thread, pardon my borrowing, that binds these three works together is loss, it is Wright's poem that does the mixed-metaphoric slamming.   What comes to mind for me is, when we speak of loss, can death be far behind? No, I think not.  Death is the off stage character here, though in Wright's case maybe not so off stage as come and gone.  Rengetsu's poem is another kind of seduction, reminding us of the first two Noble Truths and how very difficult they are to surmount.

All of this and not a haiku in sight!  The Rengetsu is a waka, so that will do nicely as a distant cousin. 


--------------------------


This week's poem from the Lilliput Review archive comes from #180.  The poem, Earth-Poet, is by the wonderful Joseph Hutchinson, whose blog, "Perpetual Bird," keeps many a reader on their toes, lyrical or otherwise.  Enjoy.






The Earth-Boat
  The ocean's susurrus....
  In its sun-soaked pod the brain
  ripens.  The Earth-boat:
  for a few breaths
  we can feel it drifting.
Joseph Hutchison








hey boatman
no pissing on the moon
in the waves!
Issa
translated by David G. Lanoue











best,
Don




Send a single haiku for the Wednesday Haiku feature. Here's how.

Go to the LitRock web site for a list of all 123 songs



Wednesday, October 19, 2011

Kirsten Cliff and William Sorlien: Wednesday Haiku #40




Wednesday Haiku, #40







brush strokes -
the mother
I'll never be
Kirsten Cliff















confiding in the scarecrow
a vow to change the world

William Sorlien




 Photo by M. Campbell ©






don't sing, insects!
the world will get better
in its own time
Issa
translated by David G. Lanoue









best,
Don



Send a single haiku for the Wednesday Haiku feature. Here's how.

Go to the LitRock web site for a list of all 123 songs


Monday, October 17, 2011

Monday Twitter Poem








   LIQUOR 
the I and the U 
   flickering

            Shawn Bowman
            from Lilliput Review, #169                         








"Sake for sale"
a sign on a wall...
spring rain

Issa
translated by David G. Lanoue













best,

Don



Send a single haiku for the Wednesday Haiku feature. Here's how.

Go to the LitRock web site for a list of all 123 songs


                                                                                                 

Sunday, October 16, 2011

1983 ... A Merman I Shall Be: Issa's Sunday Service, #123

US Album Cover: Electric Ladyland






While walking to work on Friday and thinking about the day's post (with the identify this picture quiz - answer Jimi Hendrix), it suddenly occurred to me that I had overlooked  one of the great rock epic songs, which is in turn part of one of the finest concept album sides (in my opinion, the finest - yeah, bring 'em on, the Beatles, the Who, Decemberists, Yes, Flaming Lips etc., I'm standing pat), that happens to make a most definitive illusion to a great work of literature: "1983 ... A Merman I Shall Be" by the incomparable Mr. H.

Included in the above widget are the 2 songs that song "1983," comprising side 3 of the two album set. The set opens with "Rainy Day, Dream Away," which sets the story of spliff induced rainy day reverie which one critic described as a psychedelic suite.  I'd call it a mini rock opera, centered around a sci/fi like tale of two people who, as the final apocalyptic war rages, go down to the sea having been transformed by their machine to return from where the human race emerged.  The music matches the theme, mock epic in style, with a beautiful melody.  Moving on to the next side after the "Moon, Turn the Tides ... Gently, Gently Away," the listener and narrator simultaneously continue the reverie and begin to come out of a long excursion into a mythic alternative to Mr. Orwell's "1984.





UK Album Cover: Electric Ladyland

-------------------
Today's featured archive poem comes from Lilliput Review #65, February 1995.  Enjoy.                      




           Bird Haiku #14
Wings extended across the ground
a dead sparrow
flies into eternity.
              David Rhine










grafting a branch--
I might be dead
tomorrow
Issa
translated by David G. Lanoue





best,
Don



Send a single haiku for the Wednesday Haiku feature. Here's how.

Go to the LitRock web site for a list of all 123 songs

Friday, October 14, 2011

News, Reading, a Quiz, and Some Poems


One of the folks it was a great honor meeting this summer in Seattle during the Haiku North America conference was Jerry Ball.  Here's a neat little article on him I thought folks might enjoy.

------

I'll be doing a reading this Sunday at Nico's Recovery Room to help promote a brand new book of poetry by Robert Isenberg.  The book is Wander and is published by Six Gallery Press.  Other folks reading and performing are Jason Baldinger, Jerome Crooks, Gab Bonesso, and Vince Eirene on Sunday night at 9:30 pm.

------

I ran across this poem in a volume of original poems and translations by Thanasis Makaleris.  This is a one of the translations:

Poetry
   In vain the poets endeavor
   To fill the empty space
   With their verses and images.

   Empty space returns
   Larger than before
   Seeking
   To be filled again
   Nanos Valaoritis

I've a real soft spot for poems about poetry.  I know, either you love it or you hate it.

I love it.

------

I've been reading a lot of Charles Wright lately, a first for me and quite a fine experience.  One of his recent volumes, Sestets, I'll be having something to say about in the near future.  For now, I'll just say fab.  What follows is a poem from another fine book of his I've been reading, China Trace, a much earlier work.  I highly recommend both books for anyone one who enjoys insightful short nature-tuned poems.


Reunion
   Already one day has detached itself from all the rest up ahead.
   It has my photograph in its soft pocket.
   It wants to carry my breath into the past in its bag of wind.

   I write poems to untie myself, to do penance and disapppeaar
   Through the upper right-hand corner of things, to say grace.


-------

Finally, since identifying the poem pictured in artwork a couple of weeks back was a bust (offer is still open and here's a big hint: it's by Ferlinghetti), how about identifying the following photo?   Free 6 issue subscription to the first right guess posted in the comments section as to this gentleman's identity.
 



------

This week's poem from the archive comes from issue #179, May 2011, and is one of the fine translations of Santoka by Scott Watson.  Enjoy.




until my clothes dry

this grassy breeze
Taneda Santoka
translation by Scott Watson









the autumn wind
blows as if it knows
I'm an orphan
Issa
translated by David G. Lanoue





best,
Don



Send a single haiku for the Wednesday Haiku feature. Here's how.

Go to the LitRock web site for a list of all 122 songs

Wednesday, October 12, 2011

Aditya Bahl and Pat Nelson: Wednesday Haiku 39

  Photo by pueri87




Wednesday Haiku, Week #39






temple shehnai--
evening trees rustle
K says its the wind
Aditya Bahl








summer night --
the spaces between words
filled with stars
Pat Nelson
















a gathering of stars--
children, grandchildren
great-great-grandchildren
Issa
translated by David G. Lanoue








best,
Don



Send a single haiku for the Wednesday Haiku feature. Here's how.

Go to the LitRock web site for a list of all 122 songs

Monday, October 10, 2011

John Samuel Tieman: Monday Twitter Poem






quiet after pain
has its own kind of silence
red leaves off a tree
John Samuel Tieman
   from Lilliput Review #169










into the sunken hearth
they're swept...
red leaves
Issa
translated by David G. Lanoue

















best,

Don



Send a single haiku for the Wednesday Haiku feature. Here's how.

Go to the LitRock web site for a list of all 122 songs

Sunday, October 9, 2011

Song of Wandering Aengus: Issa's Sunday Service, No. 122








Today's selection of a W. B. Yeats poem performed by Donovan was a suggestion from a Facebook friend that I couldn't resist, particularly while still in mourning over the passing of Bert Jansch.


The Song of Wandering Aengus

Went out to the hazel wood,
Because a fire was in my head,
And cut and peeled a hazel wand,
And hooked a berry to a thread;

And when white moths were on the wing,
And moth-like stars were flickering out,
I dropped the berry in a stream
And caught a little silver trout.

When I had laid it on the floor
I went to blow the fire a-flame,
But something rustled on the floor,
And some one called me by my name:
It had become a glimmering girl
With apple blossom in her hair
Who called me by my name and ran
And faded through the brightening air.

Though I am old with wandering
Through hollow lands and hilly lands,
I will find out where she has gone,
And kiss her lips and take her hands;
And walk among long dappled grass,
And pluck till time and times are done
The silver apples of the moon,
The golden apples of the sun.
William Butler Yeats

There are have been any number of great renderings of this W. B. Yeats poem.  Two follow, the first a delightful animation to a recitation of the poem and the second a great rendition by the Dutch band Fling, who specialize in Irish music.











I can't shake the Bert Jansch blues, so here is Donovan's song, "Bert's Blues," for his old friend, from way back in 1966.  R.I.P., Mr. Jansch:










Finally, a set of 6 tunes by Bert: "Blues," "October Song," "The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face," "Gypsy Dave," "Nobody's Bar," and "Rosemary Lane."





------------------------------



Had a couple of guesses, via email and Facebook, of what poem it might be that the artwork I posted was based on but nobody got it.  I guess that it will have to remain a mystery for all except the artist and myself.

------------------------------


This week's poem comes from the Lilliput Review archive comes from  #66, a broadside of the work of Albert Huffstickler.  Enjoy.




Please No Applause Till After the Performance is Over
He walks to the corner,
stops,
turns back, walks
halfway down the block,
stops,
gathers himself together,
turns decisively,
and marches back
to the corner.
He's been doing this
for an hour.
He's rehearsing something,
God knows what.
He may not know himself anymore.
There was something
he was going to do
and never did.
Now he's rehearsing
getting back on track.
Don't mock him.
If you've
never been there,
you don' know how he feels.
If you have
and aren't now,
be grateful
            Albert Huffsticker


-------------------------------------





autumn wind--
walking along the valley's cliff
my shadow
Issa
translated by David G. Lanoue









best,
Don



Send a single haiku for the Wednesday Haiku feature. Here's how.

Go to the LitRock web site for a list of all 122 songs

Friday, October 7, 2011

Ed Markowski: Meditation Hall






MEDITATION HALL
NO ONE’S HOME
        AT
NO ONE’S HOME




-------------------------------

If you're a fan and you have ten minutes, check out the interview with legendary small press poet T. Kilgore Splake at Michigan Public Radio station WMUK. He touches all the Splake bases ...

-------------------------------

The Poetry Foundation has posted a new Gerald Stern poem from the October issue of Poetry God, how I love this man.




Leaves
He was cleaning leaves for one at a time
was what he needed and a minute before the two
brown poodles walked by he looked at the stripped-down trees
from one more point of view and thought they were
part of a system in which the dappled was foreign
for he had arrived at his own conclusion and that was
for him a relief even if he was separated,
even if his hands were frozen,
even if the wind knocked him down,
even if his cat went into her helpless mode
inside the green and sheltering Japanese yew tree.
Gerald Stern

------------------------------------


Finally, very sad news - Bert Jansch, one of the most important figures in British and world folk music has died. I was privileged to see him when he came to Pittsburgh in an intimate setting at a local Unitarian Church. What a show. He will be missed.




------------------------------------




plum blossom scent--
a hazy memory
of my nanny's house
Issa
translated by David G. Lanoue






best,
Don



Send a single haiku for the Wednesday Haiku feature. Here's how.

Go to the LitRock web site for a list of all 122 songs