Haiku Master Basho

Matsuo Basho is the Japanese saint of Haiku. Of samurai heritage, he lived in the 17th century and had an enormous following. His complete works, consisting of 1011 haiku, have recently been collected and translated by Jane Reichhold and can be found in Basho The Complete Haiku (Tokyo: Kodansha International, 2008).

It is my humble intention to also write 1011 haiku, one each day. I began in August 2009 and by my estimation, should finish in May 2012. Traditionally haiku was concerned with nature, but today our "nature" has changed. New technology has replaced the winds of nature as the force in our times. What was a rock is now a computer key. What was a cherry blossom is now a world wide web of information. What was light, is now the speed of light. Haiku is about finding an essence, thus these writings will seek to find the essence of our lives today.

A note for the reader: an important aspect of haiku is that the reader can put as much of herself/himself into the piece as the writer. If a haiku is good it will become your meaning not mine. Wish me luck! When the project is complete, if only one of the 1011 haiku approaches the skill and mastery of Basho, I will be satisfied.




Monday, April 26, 2010

Nu Haiku 259

Right hand on silver
laptop body, hard drive heart
beats. Machine master.

Nu Haiku 258

He ho farmer's in
the Dell, changes horse midstream.
Mac! Happy cows home.

Nu Haiku 257

Volcano lava
particles turn to glass in
jet engines. Grounded.

Nu Haiku 256

Always bridges to
airports. Crossing water to
get to air. Upward.

Nu Haiku 255

White sheets cover beds
in homeless shelter. Light in
dark corner holds tight.

Nu Haiku 254

All tweets from the world
in Library of Congress.
Noisy birds in trees.

Nu Haiku 253

White flag waves beyond
barricade of emotions
calling for all clear.

Nu Haiku 252

New apartment waits
for the scents of home to come
and settle on floors.

Nu Haiku 251

City night. Mumbling
voices walk by window, fade
like streetlight at dawn.

Nu Haiku 250

You are my only
country, my passport to the
outside. Waiting world.

Nu Haiku 249

Buddhas don't kill the
cockroaches dead dead dead with
disinfectant spray.

nu Haiku 248

Love, like a perfect
metaphor, held in a line
forever ending.

Nu Haiku 247

Shitake mushroom,
button from earth's tuxedo
fries, wood smell rising.

Nu Haiku 246

Worker polishes
brass standpipe on building wall
as if gold doornob.

Nu Haiku 245

"Premium blog" flogs
dodgy "friends" with freaky pics
and odd addresses.

Nu Haiku 244

Diesel shop window
declares "Be Stupid". Selling
dumb as art. Sell out.

Nu Haiku 243

Sandwich board signs: food,
gold, psychic, massage. Caught in
middle, human being.

Nu Haiku 242

The poem is subject,
process-product together.
inseparable.

(Frank O'Hara)

Nu Haiku 241

City light reflects
on night water. Electric
air rests on bare arm.

Nu Haiku 240

Snow river runs warm.
White blossom rains beginning.
You are remembered.

Nu Haiku 239

Soporific spring,
sun on winter bodies. Leaves,
a slow unfurling.

Nu Haiku 238

Spinning wheel, one hand.
Handicapped humanity.
Lost community.

Nu Haiku 237

Handicapped hamster.
Two good legs run on wheel, two
bad legs hang useless.

Nu Haiku 236

Zoom, zoom. Siren red.
Speeding, tailgating lecture.
Smile. No ticket. Gone.

Nu Haiku 235

River runs down road,
fish swim on highways, all is
not where it should be.

Saturday, April 3, 2010

Nu Haiku 234

Cold water flood runs
through stone, concrete. Liquid snake
stalking to destroy.

Nu Haiku 233

Hadron Collider.
Search for super symmetry.
Shadows of gods pass.

Nu Haiku 232

Mystic animal.
Small medium shows woman
way towards hidden ills.

Nu Haiku 231

Korean nail shop.
Black-haired owner's eyes crack whip.
Worker ladies crouch.

Nu Haiku 230

Gray dog down. Tremor.
Hypoparathyroidism.
Big word. Small tail sad.

Nu Haiku 229

College dome. Bell rings.
Financial aid, public schools.
No foreigners here.

Nu Haiku 228

Fog crawls on white knees
down suburban streets, drifting
to wake up sleepers.

Nu Haiku 227

Back street Baltimore.
Sideboards need paint but sidewalks
roll out fine and sweet.