by Scott Metz on September 26, 2010
haiku presented with commentary by the Yuki Teikei Society for discussion

young leaf #3
By Patricia Machmiller & Jerry Ball
incessant crickets . . .
on the mosque’s marble wash basin
ancient Greek letters
—Zinovy Vayman
pjm: There are many parallels and contrasts here. The parallels: crickets are as old, older even, than the Greek language, meaning is being conveyed through cricket sound and through the carved letters, sound has “shape” and shapes in the form of letters indicates sound. And the contrasts: the liveliness of the crickets vs. the stillness of the letters carved in marble, the blurred inscrutability of the sound vs. the clarity of the carved letters. Or, contrariwise, the letters may have become worn and less readable with age while the crickets’ song is unmistakable and as distinct, as ever.
I’m not sure that I have plumbed the depths of this many-faceted haiku. I am still mulling it over. And as I do, I am aware that it is autumn. Perhaps the haiku can be read as the natural world vs. civilization—and the question of which will survive. Do they compliment each other? Or is one destined to outlive the other. The poet doesn’t explicitly say. But if the poet leaves the outcome unclear, with the choice of an autumn kigo to represent nature, he is saying that the time is late.
jb: I see a sequence of images with this verse. First, and most ancient, the sounds of crickets taking us back millions of years. Next the mosque, a mere thousand or so. And then the Greek letters. The author is engaged in framing. The Greek letters (which are almost, but not quite the first true alphabet—the first being Phoenician) frame the mosque. The Greek alphabet, which was based on the Phoenician, became an institution about 1000 BC. So the Greek letters put the mosque in perspective, but the sound of crickets frames even the Greek letters. Please forgive my intellectualizing.
This verse reminds me about the feeling of antiquity. In spite of the mosque, and in spite of the Greeks, we have the crickets.
by Scott Metz on July 3, 2010
haiku presented with commentary by the Yuki Teikei Society for discussion

young leaf #2
By Patricia Machmiller & Jerry Ball
Fourth of July—
a line of ants
along the parade route
Michael Dylan Welch
jb: A shasei haiku. There is no comment; the mention of the visual phenomena is all that’s needed. Of course this must be done in the context of the kigo, and this shows why a kigo is of such central importance. In itself a line of ants can bring an emotional effect, but on the Fourth of July ? and on a parade route? Ah, the kigo!
pjm: A little ryeness to make us smile. The poet has come to the Fourth of July parade and finds, paralleling the human parade, an ant parade. I am enjoying the light-hearted take on the ants that the poet has offered, and I could stop here. But if the poet wanted to move the writing from a light, humorous observation of ants to something that asked the reader to cogitate more, then I would offer this:
The central idea of the haiku plays with a natural behavior of ants (a summer kigo), their parade-like formations. And using the Fourth of July (also a summer kigo), which is a traditional parade venue, immediately sets the stage for the haiku. However, consider the weight of the “Fourth of July” versus the “ants.” The “ants” are totally overwhelmed by that huge fire-cracking, band-playing “Fourth of July” imagery. Also the interplay between the ants and the Fourth of July stops with the similarity of the parade aspect. But consider a march of veterans or a protest march or a gay-pride march or a marathon run. Suddenly the ants take on additional meaning. We are confronted with more than the parade-like quality; we think of how small they are, how persistent they are in the face of great odds, how unified they are, how defiant, etc. By making the ants the central and only kigo and bringing the image they are compared to into a more balanced perspective, does the possibility for additional meaning open up? What do you think?
by Scott Metz on June 4, 2010
haiku presented with commentary by the Yuki Teikei Society for discussion

young leaf #1
By Patricia Machmiller & Jerry Ball
untouched by words
the spring moon pauses
between pines
Carolyn Thomas
jb: In this haiku we have a moment in time: the moment when the spring moon “pauses” between pines. One can infer the context: a night walk in a pine forest. In the mystery of the scene the spring moon pauses (a metaphor … that works, for me) between the trees. I remember one night in Japan, this was during the winter, that my friend and I stood and watched the moon move. We lined it up with a telephone wire, and waited. If you’re patient enough you can actually see the movement. There’s something eerie about this. You can actually see the universe at work. It’s a story, in this case, told by the moon and the pines.
pjm: What a good choice, Jerry. This haiku brings together two concepts—one from the East and one from the West—expanding (exploding?) our understanding of both. In Buddhist thought the moon is a symbol of enlightenment. Here the poet says the moon (enlightenment) is “untouched by words.” The idea is that to achieve enlightenment the mind must become empty. To convey this thought the poet has used the phrase “untouched by words.” But in so doing the poet has brought to the poem an allusion to the Western Biblical phrase from John, 1:1: In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. For Westerners this haiku cannot be read free of this reference. From this perhaps we can infer satori, the process of becoming enlightened, is a fusion, not a touching, of the Word and the one enlightened. This is a haiku with much to be discovered—what do the pines contribute to the thought? And the fact that it is spring? I am not finished thinking about this haiku.
by Scott Metz on June 4, 2010
young leaves
(introduction)
At the invitation of The Haiku Foundation, the Yuki Teikei Haiku Society will present on a regular basis a haiku with commentary from two of its senior members, Jerry Ball and Patricia Machmiller.
The Yuki Teikei Haiku Society was founded in 1975 by Kiyoshi and Kiyoko Tokutomi. Kiyoko studied Japanese literature with a major in haiku in college in Japan. Kiyoshi studied haiku after he lost his hearing in 1967. The primary mission of the Society is to provide information to haiku writers who are interested in studying the traditional form that developed in Japan as a way of grounding their development and to support their writing practice as they adapt the form to the English language and to a western sensibility.
The commentary is meant to stimulate discussion; Jerry and Patricia look forward to hearing from others about their thoughts on the selected haiku. The haiku selected for comment will be from submissions to the Yuki Teikei GEPPO.
In haiku friendship—
jb and pjm
