sudden calm trees point where the wind went
w. f. owen
Wednesday, April 30, 2008
Tuesday, April 29, 2008
Monday, April 28, 2008
Sunday, April 27, 2008
Saturday, April 26, 2008
Friday, April 25, 2008
Thursday, April 24, 2008
Wednesday, April 23, 2008
Tuesday, April 22, 2008
the simple life
Part of haiku sensibilities go beyond "nature
poems." Many haiku focus on human life
that, to be sure, are part of nature, but I
think of the simpler, everyday activities.
Because haiku highlight moments, typically,
the mundane objects of life are elevated.
Modern humanity all too often rushes past
noticeable, yet unnoticed, simplicity.
Part of what attracts me to haiku writing
and reading is that it suggests mindfulness
and grounding in everyday reality.
In the past some writers have taken this
attitude to extreme. For example, one could
become an "ascetic" like Hosai Ozaki (see
"Right under the big sky, I don't wear a hat,"
Stone Bridge Press, P.O. Box 8208, Berkeley,
CA, 1993). Some of his poems:
Having run here through the wind, in his palm, hot coins (p. 37)
I know the footsteps of the sparrow walking on the mat (p. 105)
See this site for more on his book:
http://www.codeschaos.0catch.com/melancholy.html
We need not give up all worldly possessions like
Ozaki, but rather "slow down" to notice life's
simplicity. So, occasionally, I return to Ozaki's
small book as a reminder to notice more around
me, as with this poem from observing
carpenters:
bent over the apprentice straightens a nail
w. f. owen
poems." Many haiku focus on human life
that, to be sure, are part of nature, but I
think of the simpler, everyday activities.
Because haiku highlight moments, typically,
the mundane objects of life are elevated.
Modern humanity all too often rushes past
noticeable, yet unnoticed, simplicity.
Part of what attracts me to haiku writing
and reading is that it suggests mindfulness
and grounding in everyday reality.
In the past some writers have taken this
attitude to extreme. For example, one could
become an "ascetic" like Hosai Ozaki (see
"Right under the big sky, I don't wear a hat,"
Stone Bridge Press, P.O. Box 8208, Berkeley,
CA, 1993). Some of his poems:
Having run here through the wind, in his palm, hot coins (p. 37)
I know the footsteps of the sparrow walking on the mat (p. 105)
See this site for more on his book:
http://www.codeschaos.0catch.com/melancholy.html
We need not give up all worldly possessions like
Ozaki, but rather "slow down" to notice life's
simplicity. So, occasionally, I return to Ozaki's
small book as a reminder to notice more around
me, as with this poem from observing
carpenters:
bent over the apprentice straightens a nail
w. f. owen
Monday, April 21, 2008
Sunday, April 20, 2008
Saturday, April 19, 2008
Friday, April 18, 2008
Thursday, April 17, 2008
Wednesday, April 16, 2008
Tuesday, April 15, 2008
Monday, April 14, 2008
Sunday, April 13, 2008
Saturday, April 12, 2008
Friday, April 11, 2008
Thursday, April 10, 2008
Wednesday, April 9, 2008
Tuesday, April 8, 2008
Monday, April 7, 2008
Sunday, April 6, 2008
Saturday, April 5, 2008
old carpenter (haibun)
Old Carpenter
blue sky
the carpenter makes
a perfect cut
My father always told me to “work with your head, not your hands” and sure enough I became an academic. He didn't mean to demean those who were earning honest livings by honing their skills. We both admired the carpenters, painters and general handymen I see working in the neighborhood during long spring walks.
old carpenter
a few teeth missing
from his saw
Recent high winds have blown down many fence sections so carpenters are everywhere, usually in beat-up, rusted pickup trucks stuffed seemingly with every possible tool and supply item. They are always old—well they look old anyway—but always managing, like that one with a spring in his step between limps.
lifting the hammer
the old carpenter’s hand
stops shaking
w. f. owen
blue sky
the carpenter makes
a perfect cut
My father always told me to “work with your head, not your hands” and sure enough I became an academic. He didn't mean to demean those who were earning honest livings by honing their skills. We both admired the carpenters, painters and general handymen I see working in the neighborhood during long spring walks.
old carpenter
a few teeth missing
from his saw
Recent high winds have blown down many fence sections so carpenters are everywhere, usually in beat-up, rusted pickup trucks stuffed seemingly with every possible tool and supply item. They are always old—well they look old anyway—but always managing, like that one with a spring in his step between limps.
lifting the hammer
the old carpenter’s hand
stops shaking
w. f. owen
Friday, April 4, 2008
Thursday, April 3, 2008
Wednesday, April 2, 2008
Tuesday, April 1, 2008
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