Threaded Moments: Themed Haiku in Sketchbook
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Transcript of Threaded Moments: Themed Haiku in Sketchbook
Threaded Moments: Themed Haiku in Sketchbook
by Chen-ou Liu (劉鎮歐)
The haiku included in this document are selected from themed haiku threads
published in Sketchbook between November 2009 and August 2011. Some
of them are accompanied by commentary from the editors.
Short Biography:
Born in Taipei, Taiwan, Chen-ou Liu (劉鎮歐 ) was a college teacher,
essayist, editor, and two-time winner of the national Best Book Review
Radio Program Award. In 2002, he emigrated to Canada and settled in Ajax,
a suburb of Toronto, where he continues to struggle with a life in transition
and translation. Featured in New Resonance 7: Emerging Voices in English-
Language Haiku, Chen-ou Liu is the author of three books: Ripples from a
Splash: A Collection of Haiku Essays with Award-Winning Haiku,
Following the Moon to the Maple Land (forthcoming in October 2011), and
Broken/Breaking English: Selected Short Poems (forthcoming in December
2011). His tanka and haiku have been honored with 21 awards, including
First Prize in the 2011 Haiku Pix Chapbook Contest, Grand Prix in the 2010
Klostar Ivanic Haiku Contest in English, and 特選 (Prize Winner) in the
2010 Haiku International Association Haiku Contest. Read more of his
poems at Poetry in the Moment, http://chenouliu.blogspot.com/
Insect / Bug Thread, 6:4, July/August, 2011
one by one
fireflies escape my glass jar...
starry night
(Editor's First Choice)
Editor's Comment:
For the theamed "insect / bug Haiku Thread Sketchbook poets submitted an
unprecedented 273 poems; picking a single haiku as choice has been difficult... However,
after narrowing the field down to ten I have reached a decision. My number one choice
was submitted by Chen-ou Liu,
The narrator in this ku, possibly a child, has been collecting fireflies in a glass jar. What
child has not participated in this activity on an early, twilight summer eve? Such an
activity permits a close up inspection of these mysterious, luminescent creatures—an up
close experience of the microcosm. Later, the narrator releases the fireflies, and one by
one they escape their "glass" confinement returning to the larger world. They become
indistinguishable in the clear night sky as their tiny, glowing lights become intermixed
with the canvas of the night sky filled with stars. The transformation of views is dramatic
—moving from a microcosmic view to a macrocosmic view. It is this shift of view point
that captures my attention. The child like act of capturing fireflies as specimens for
display in a glass jar is commonplace, but allowing them to escape and mingle as points
of light against the large canvas of a sky on a starry night leads one to speculate on the
larger questions about life. What is life? Is there life in the vast and mostly unexplored,
distant universe? Are the life forms of the "firefly", a "human", and a distant "star"
related? What is the origin of life? These are large questions—all of which invade my
mind upon reading Chen-ou Liu's interesting haiku?
Some readers may object to the selection of this haiku as a Choice example. Both
"firefly" and "starry night" are commonly listed kigos—haijin purists will hastily point
out that only one kigo should be used. Yet, the vastness of the questions that arise in my
mind from reading Chen-ou Liu's haiku lead me to persist in this choice.
Author’s note:
John’s comments are informative and insightful, and I’m particularly impressed by this
well thought-out comment:” The transformation of views is dramatic—moving from a
microcosmic view to a macrocosmic view. It is this shift of view point that captures my
attention.”
As for his concluding comment, my response to so-called haijin purists’ complaint is
simple: there is no abiding kigo tradition adopted and followed by the English language
haiku community, and in the Japanese haiku, two kigo are allowed to use (one of them is
treated as a dominant one).
the pale moon
trapped between high-rises
a line of ants
hometown memories...
a spider mending a hole
in the attic wall
(Editor's Choice)
his gravelly voice,
all your feet flat on the floor...
mosquitoes buzzing
(Editor's Choice)
moonless night
one buzzing fly and I
in the attic
(Editor's Choice)
zen garden
a butterfly soaring
over No Entry
summer heat
a line of ants moving
across Das Kapital
(Editor's Choice)
midsummer night
home alone with my dog
picking fleas
(Editor's Choice)
Vegetable(s) Thread, 6:3, May/June 2011
hometown memories...
a bag of mixed veggies
defrosting
(Editor’s Second Choice)
Editor's Comment:
I love the essence of this. Wabi. All the memories frozen in the past, suddenly right there
in the present. A family reunion or class reunion, mixed with all sorts of people catching
up on their lives. Constantly, we are able to bring the past into the present, but never the
other way around. Yet in revisiting a place, people, family a little touch of the past is
always right there with us. Once fields of farmers and fresh veggies, were cleaned,
precooked and defrosted to save, time—the word time, past, present, saving time are all
food for thought. Sorry for the pun!
Flower(s) Thread, 6:2, March/April 2011
red spider lilies
blooming along the fence --
foreclosed house
(Editor's Choice)
where do you live?
everywhere
plum blossoms drifting
cherry blossoms...
splattered with droppings
by a pigeon
autumn twilight
an old dog sits by the grave
overgrown with ivy
(Editor's Choice)
forget-me-nots . . .
the first blooms in her garden
with a For Sale sign
(Editor's Choice)
winter dawn...
the last photo of her
amid azaleas
(Editor's Choice)
Heart(s) Thread, 6:1, January/February 2011
I love you...
she bites half the chocolate heart
I brought her
(Editor's Choice)
Editor’s Comment:
Chen-ou Liu's haiku is symbolic of true love. Sharing of the heart, the life force. He takes
only half as it takes two parts to complete them as one.
the space
between our hearts
her breasts
balloon hearts
flutter in the spring breeze
her faraway look
two hearts
beat to each other:
street dog and I
rainbow at dusk
a crack line through our hearts
carved in a tree trunk
hazy winter moon
the scent from the chocolate heart
under her foot
my body
blanketing hers
heartbeats
First Snow Thread, 5:6, November/December 2010
an African man
holds out his hands…
snowflakes
first snow...
I stand by the window
until dusk
snow flurries scatter...
Hundred Thousand Whys
on the radio
first snowflakes...
a letter from Taiwan
arrives
blizzard
one footstep follows
another
snowflakes!
pieces of the day
drift away
the way home
I tell the secret
to falling snow
public parking lot:
every space is taken
by snowflakes
in my dream
writing ten haiku a day—
snowflakes swirl
snow deepening...
I've forgotten my Chinese
name
Christmas snow globe...
steam from the hotpot settles
on the window
Fall Trees Thread, 5:5, September/October 2010
job hunting...
a yellow leaf drifts
from branch to branch
(Editor's First Choice)
a plastic bag
caught in the maple tree
autumn dusk
crescent moon
reclining on clouds...
the maple stands alone
maple leaves
drifting in the wind
a piece of my mind
Fruit Thread, 5:4, July/August 2010
peeling my pear
in a thin, unbroken spiral...
hometown memories
(Editor's First Choice)
nose prints
on the store window
fruit sundaes
(Editor's Choice)
winter morning...
the blender mixes berries
with bits of sunshine
she reads my love
poem in the spring sunlight ...
Fuji apple
Beach Thread, 5:3, May/June 2010
beach bonfire...
nothing left between
the moon and me
(Editor's First Choice)
nudist beach --
half-hidden behind a veil
a woman's face
seagulls
squawk...my nipples
hurting
ninth autumn since:
between mother and me
the Pacific
tar balls
on the beach...
silent skies
Winter Solstice Thread, 4:6, November/December 2009
his bony hand
grasping at the air;
winter solstice