When I Have Fears That I Might Cease to Be: John Keats via Maia Porcaro

Keats' Grave

From the wonderful 'Videopoems' section of the Moving Poems website, this visual interpretation of John Keats' powerful poem, "When I Have Fears That I Might Cease to Be:" 


  When I Have Fears from Maia Porcaro on Vimeo.

When I Have Fears That I Might Cease to Be - John Keats
When I have fears that I may cease to be    Before my pen has gleaned my teeming brain, Before high-pilèd books, in charactery,    Hold like rich garners the full ripened grain; When I behold, upon the night’s starred face,    Huge cloudy symbols of a high romance, And think that I may never live to trace    Their shadows with the magic hand of chance; And when I feel, fair creature of an hour,    That I shall never look upon thee more, Never have relish in the faery power    Of unreflecting love—then on the shore Of the wide world I stand alone, and think Till love and fame to nothingness do sink.
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so many! on the shore at a hut of reeds reed thrushes

Issa
translated by David G. Lanoue

  Lots going on at the moment - a reading coming up a week from Saturday, doing a final edit on the forthcoming Yield to the Willow (page down a bit), my 2nd collection, and finalizing the selections for the Haiku Foundation's April Per Diem feature, so Wednesday Haiku is on temporary hiatus and, hopefully, will be back in a week or two.
    best,

Don

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Charles Trumbull - A Five-Balloon Morning: Small Press Friday

Charles Trumbull is a poet of quiet, deep emotion. His haiku are ripples on the pond; the source invisible, yet of paramount importance.

A Five-Balloon Morning has a subtitle, New Mexico Haiku, and, though that sets the scene, it is in no sense strictly regional or limiting. In fact, as regular readers of haiku might attest, the more particular the focus, the greater the potential for a more universal theme - in the hands of the right poet, that is. 

Charles Trumbull is the right poet.  

raking into piles
leaves from a tree
I climbed as a boy

The great haiku poets, Bashō coming to mind here, can include an entire lifetime, or lifetimes in one three line verse. And that's what we have here. 


                                        first Christmas
                                     without my mother
                                   without my childhood


Time and memory intertwine again, with tone and subject that certainly is reminiscent of another of the great masters.

hometown visit
fine sand in the doorways
of vacant storefronts

I seem to be focusing on time here, but rather let's say the poet is. There is a sense not just of the past in these lines, but of the future, the reclaiming back of things as they were. Certainly thoughts such as these are never far away in a desert clime.

wild asters
brilliant in the field
after the fire

Nature again takes center stage - the wild joy of the first two lines is suddenly muted at the cause. Yet, still, the wild asters are brilliant and need we worry why?

wind-twisted juniper
at the precipice
you take my hand

This is a ku of balance, wherein the dual-hinge door of the second line swings both ways, perfectly. Certainly, the wind of the first line, even if not at the moment present, might conjure the caution in the third, at a pre or subconscious level.

in the dark corner
where the crucifix hung
a white shadow

There is something, always, about shadows - doppelgangers of sorts, and in this case the 'shadow' is white, and is a 'shadow' of something no longer there, something which perhaps no longer exists.

Yet something that persists.

There is a separate section in this collection entitled Trinity, which is about a visitation to the Trinity site in the desert where the first atomic bomb was detonated. Here are three ku from that powerful collection within a collection which grabbed 
me and held on:

Trinity site
in the guard's vehicle
fuzzy dice

The allusion to Einstein's remark about God and dice immediately leaps to mind and the reverberations take that mind to many a dark place.

we drive through the gate
feeling very American -
weeds through asphalt

The juxtaposition between feeling and reality here is more than the sum of its parts. Perhaps there is an implicit comparison between the weeds and the humans, perhaps not. 

What we do know is that they have both sprung up in a post-apocalyptic reality. 

squabbling children-
the grasshopper
hops away

Such a simple poem, such a complex world. Like how various animals are portrayed in horror movies - horses, dogs, cats - the grasshopper has its say.

This fine collection of contemporary haiku comes from Red Mountain Press. Trumbull has composed a set of poems that in some ways are like whispers, just barely heard, until we learn how to focus in on the sound. It isn't so much the volume of the sound as it is the locale.

It comes from within. 

-------

As a bit of a bonus to the work above, what follows is a video from the Haiku Foundation of Charles reading some haiku. This video is part of an ongoing series entitled The Haiku Foundation Readings and may be found in the Haiku Foundation Video Archive.

    -------

this world of ours--
so fast the bonfires
burn out

Issa
translated by David G. Lanoue

best,

Don

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John Martone: skeleton key - Small Press Friday

John Martone's book, a skeleton key, is a symbiotic combination of word and image. Both are by the poet himself, image every bit as stunning as word. There is much I could say about this work, but I must demure and let the work largely speak for itself.

a skeleton deer come to comfort you

  

This is no desku; the brilliant white bone, the whiteness of death confronting you like no other whiteness.

Confronts you?

Comforts you?

see thru
deer

eye-
sockets
&

hear
that freight 
train

New meaning is given here to sight, to sound - do you see it, do you hear it? 

far
from rest

deer's
pelvis

snagged
in root

  


One of the great virtues of the short poem, the haiku-like poem, is its engagement with the reader, demanding that the work be completed by another - this, for me, is a novel in 8 words.

all this 
time

you too
dis

arti
cu
lating

Ah, now here is another layer of story, a veil seen through to an other meaning - here is the key, right before you - do you know which door it fits precisely?

seagulls circle
hominid crouches
skeleton deer

Closer, closer, closer still ... 

Still ...

winter gusting
thru skeleton deer
nothing at all

Still.

skeleton deer
   crawdad hole

skeleton deer
   muskrat lodge

skeleton deer
   beaver dam

skeleton deer
   warbler's nest
   heron nest
   redwing nest
   squirrel nest

skeleton deer
skeleton deer
& all gone home 

  

You can hear it now, can't you? It's singing to you, it might be a little nursery rhyme, a bit of a jump rope jingle, something of a truism deeper and more profound than words themselves?

skeleton deer
now a trillion
invisible lives

  

A trillion lives ... seems almost just a handful, really. Find this intriguing? Want to read the whole thing? Mr. Martone has loaded skeleton key up on scribd, so just click on through. But bring your A game ...

... not the poetry one.  The Other one.

Oh, by the way, skeleton key was shortlisted and received an Honorable Mention for this year's Haiku Foundation Touchstone Distinguished Books Award.  So, really, give it a go. 
 
I think Bashō would be proud.

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

the deer's flute playing
off-key...
song in the night

Issa
translated by David G. Lanoue

   
best,

Don 

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Some News

I received news this week that Past All Traps has been shortlisted by the Haiku Foundation for the "2011 Touchstone Distinguished Books Award."  Info on the awards may be found here, with links to past winners in all categories.

In addition, Past has made some end of the year reading lists, including one from Joe Hutchison and one from Kris Collins.  I am very grateful, indeed, for all the recognition.

Taking the heart
from Buddha's hand, arranging
it in this vase.

    

a little tiresome
these blooming flowers...
the Buddha sleeps

Issa
translated by David G. Lanoue

best,

Don

PS A signed copy of Past All Traps may be purchased via Paypal along the right side bar or direct from me for $8 postpaid, or an unsigned copy may be had from amazon.com for $10, plus $3.99 shipping.

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