August 17, 2010

Haiku Sticky #58

© Diane Mayr, all rights reserved


  1. a crack in the pavement
    ti marie blooms/gc

    *ti marie is the locally used term for the sensitive plant--mimosa pudica

    × .•**•.¸(¯`•.¸ *..**¤** .* ¸.•´¯)¸.•**•. ×
    your tanka has been added to the CInderella renga today; thank you so much for sharing

    much love

  2. Thanks for ti marie! At my childhood home in New York, we had a large mimosa tree in our front yard. I loved it, but I haven't thought about it in a long time.

    Cinderella is turning out to be a very interesting project! Thanks for letting me part of it.

  3. I usually don't "get" the haikus, but today's is great. And as someone who writes about a treeless land, I too have fond memories of mimosa.

  4. Shelley, I just spent 30 minutes writing you an epic explanation of haiku and I hit a key by accident and lost it all! So, to summarize: do not despair--English language haiku can sometimes be perplexing, but well-written haiku will make you stop and say, "oh, yeah." Borrow a copy of The Haiku Anthology by Cor van den Heuvel from your local public library or purchase a copy (it's still in print). Read it and don't be surprised when everything your elementary school teacher taught you about haiku proves to be false.

    The Haiku Society of America used to define a haiku as "the essence of a moment keenly perceived, in which nature is linked to human nature." The linking of nature to human nature may be part of the problem to "getting" it. Sometimes the reader just can't make the leap that the writer envisions.

    Like all contemporary poetry, some you get and some you don't. If you don't get my haiku, let me know, please!

  5. This is lovely, Diane - and I certainly do see the human equivalent. Many of us have that Queen Anne's lace growing between our rails....

  6. Actually, Julie, if I were to pick a wildflower to grow between my rails, it would be the delicate Deptford pink Dianthus armeria. Always so unexpected.