The blackbird’s song flows
through an evening garden; today
As usual Chèvrefeuille has given us some great haiku examples and some interesting insights into the country and its spirituality.
Below is my take on the subject.
This trail through forests,
valleys, lakelands – since the stone-age
a guide for travellers –
leads us today from the sea
to the heavenly dancers.
The first part is a 5-7-5 poem written by a 20th century poet Mizuhara Shuoshi.
A new year begins
With the blooming
Of a single frosty rose.
My two 7-7 lines to finish it are:
Rose, frost, season met/will meet
For centuries of new years.
I’ve been reading The Art of The Chinese Gardens published by China Travel & Tourism. It’s a beautiful book with photos and descriptions of some of the most important gardens in China.
Chinese gardens contain many named features – pavilions, rocks, viewpoints, hills, studios, temples and others – the Chinese seem to have a talent for inventing evocative and beautiful names. There are scores here.
Such titles lend themselves to found poems, and I’ve gleaned several from this book. I believe that for true found poetry I should have only used the findings, but I can’t help adding and, in this poem, the short connectors are mine.
The Grandeur of Imperial China
The Hill of Accumulated Elegance
The Imperial Vault of Heaven
The Palace of Nostalgia
The Mansion of the Prince
The Mansion of the Prince of Gong
The Circular Grace Mountain Villa
House of Year Round Delight
The Wafting Fragrance Chamber
The Ten Thousand Volume Hall
Lady Young’s Pool
The Throne for Viewing the Waterworks
Mansion of the Sacred Lord of Yan
An Ancient Theatre
The Grand Theatre of the Garden of Harmonious Virtue
The Tower of Heavenly Emperors
The Five-Pagoda Bridge
The Park of the Grand View Pavilion
The Villa of Secluded Beauty
The Emerald Grace Garden
The Hall of Happiness and Longevity
My last post was about found poems and their sources. Another springboard for verse I’ve discovered is in part-overheard part-sentences on trains and buses or other public spaces.
I’m not talking about listening in to other people’s talk, but hearing snatches as someone walks by or calls out to a friend.
Often the words are jumbled and unclear, but this is poetry and I can take what’s given or change it depending on how the Muse is that day and hour. In fact, if it was clear I would change it to become unrecognisable; I wouldn’t feel right reporting, in any way, exactly what someone said.
The result may be humorous and is usually surreal.
I’ve lost my bone,
On the lower deck.
I’ll buy a louse,
With twenty of them blackberries.
Keep on fishing the well.
A day of clear water.
He told a lie.
What’s in his cider?
So this is what I call semi-found poetry – it starts with the found, but gets edited, sometimes quite a lot.
I have a liking for found poems, and so do several other WordPress bloggers. If you search the tags for ‘found poetry’ or ‘found poems’ you’ll find some interesting posts. There’s also a journal; The Found Poetry Review.
There are poetry and poetic sources in the most unlikely places. Recently I’ve been reading a lot of gardening books. It won’t surprise anyone that there’s much poetry there, but I’ve particularly come to like the chapter and heading titles.
Cool but colourful
Music and movement.
Pot up a fountain,
Going with the flow.
The post #948 on Carpe Diem deals with the haiku principle of yugen. This word, first used by Chinese philosophers, generally means ‘mystery’ and ‘unknowable depth’.
It is up to the reader to decide if a poem has yugen or not, so interpreting the term is very subjective.
I have no problem with this. I think that all responses to all poems are subjective, and readers frequently find features the poet did not intend and miss others s/he worked hard to include.
Maybe most poems have an element of yugen – sometimes it’s obvious and other times obscure.
Twinkle, twinkle little star
How I wonder what you are.
may be a rhyme for children, but does it differ much from
Tyger, tyger burning bright
In the forests of the night.
In my opinion Blake’s poetry includes yugen, even though he probably didn’t know the term.
But back to #948. The following is my contribution to the discussion:
Deer fly when no one
watches. In the snowy field
their flight leaves no prints.
Prose poems aren’t my favourite type of literature, but I am enjoying these. The rich descriptions and some quirky viewpoints are refreshing.
Apparently prose poetry is a relatively recent genre. A Japanese form, haibun, was in vogue in the 17th century, but in the west it was over a hundred years later that poets started to use it in its full form.
Landor’s Cottage reads like the start of a story, but it doesn’t get to be one. Elegant and detailed description lead to no action; it comes to a halt as the author says:
It is not the purpose of this work to do more than give in detail, a picture of Mr. Landor’s residence – as I found it.
I think it comes close to modern prose poetry, in its intent and richness, but it misses by being definitely prose. Mr Poe, leader in several literary genres, lost an opportunity to be a major model for, what was in his time, a new poetic form.
Today the form is popular with a lot of poets, but Ms Capildeo is the first I’ve come across who makes me want to take my interest further.
The sample given is:
ah! morning glories
are at their best while I chant
my morning prayers
It’s a simple and straightforward word-picture, but the more I look at it the more ideas and depths I see in it.
My answer to this challenge is:
Early sun, but where
the pine tree casts a shadow
there’s grass white with frost.