The taste of haiku

Finding myself with some time on my hands I thought I would explore haiku that deal with our senses beyond sight. So there will be a themed post once a week for the next four weeks. I’ve had fun finding and selecting these poems, so I hope you’ll enjoy reading them.

Taste and scent are and likely the most difficult senses to weave into a haiku. I catch myself writing ‘the taste of …’  far too often so then must stop and figure out another way of saying exactly that. It’s been fun discovering or re-discovering taste-sense haiku where the authors have found ways of making their poem bold, fresh and vivid.

sweetness
oozing from a fig
indian summer

Harriot West
from The Wonder Code (Girasole Press, 2017)

mononofu no daikon nigaki hanashi kana

warriors
the bitterness of pickles
in the talk

Basho, tr Jane Reichhold
from Basho: The complete haiku (Kodansha, 2008)

The translator’s note for this haiku written in 1693 says Basho has chosen to pair ‘daikon’, a large radish that is often pickled, with ‘nigaki’, meaning ‘bitter’. Both the pickles and the military men’s stories left a bitter taste. She believes the haiku also references the Japanese proverb, ‘the ambitious man eats strong roots’.

shimmering pines
a taste of the mountain
from your cupped hands

Peggy Willis Lyles
from Montage (The Haiku Foundation, 2010)

wood smoke
a little something extra
in the tea

Adelaide B Shaw
from Another Trip Around the Sun (Brooks Books, 2019)

Valentine’s Day –
a cherry tomato
bursts in my mouth

Michael Dylan Welch
from Haikuniverse, Feb 14, 2017

carnival day
candy-floss kiss
on the ghost train

Ron C Moss
from the ‘Freshly Caught’ sequence, Kokako 2 (2004)

im-mi-grant
the way English tastes
on my tongue

Chen-ou Liu
from naad anunaad: an anthology of contemporary world haiku
(Viswakarma Publications, 2016)

no longer friends
the aftertaste
of imported ale

Polona Oblak
from A New Resonance 9 (Red Moon Press)

lovacore market
notes of diesel
in the chilled cherries

Lew Watts
from a hole in the light (Red Moon Press, 2019)

我味の柘榴に這す虱かな
waga aji no zakuro ni hawasu shirami kana

this pomegranate
tastes like me
enjoy it, little louse!

Issa

Translator David Lanoue says: In the prescript to this 1820 haiku, Issa recalls the legend of a mother demon who went about eating children. The Buddha recommended  she switch to a diet of pomegranates, which supposedly taste the same as human flesh. See R. H. Blyth, Haiku (Hokuseido, 1949-1952/1981-1982). In this hard-to-translate haiku, Issa catches one of his lice, and, instead of killing it, places it on his surrogate, the pomegranate.

The big, wide world

New Zealand moves to Alert Level 2 on May 14, which gives us more freedoms – shops and cafes can open, we can socialise in groups of up to 10, etc – but it’s still restrictive. I suppose the fear is that if we move to ‘normal’ too quickly a second wave of coronavirus will break over us and we’ll have to go back to our self-isolating bubbles, which might be hard to do once they’re fully popped.

Our political leadership has been exemplary over this period – decisive and clear – but  chaos is creeping in as we move into the lower Alert Levels. Too many people were out and about last weekend, despite Level 3 restrictions not being that different from those of Level 4. People queuing for junk food/coffee too close together, hundreds of people exercising/strolling on public footpaths. Sad and aggravating at the same time.

So not quite freedom, not yet. And now that I’m used to being at home all day and every day I’m finding it hard to get my head into the space beyond my own front gate!

Here are some haiku that celebrate the world outside that gate.

what would it hurt
to open the door
windflowers

Mimi Ahern
from Windflowers (Red Moon Press, 2020)

bobbing up the riverbank
the dust of a rabbit
skipping stones

Marion Moxham
from number eight wire (Piwakawaka Press, 2019)

the night sky
away from the campfire
our small words

paul m
from Another Trip Around the Sun (Brooks Books, 2019)

lakeside geese –
my map takes off
in the wind

Martha Magenta
from Presence 63 (2019)

Since I chose this haiku of Martha’s to use, I’ve heard of her death from cancer. Hopefully, she’s flying free now too.

field of dandelions
thousands of wishes
go unused

Adelaide B Shaw
from The Wonder Code (Girasole Press, 2017)

herd of deer
my road through
their togetherness

Mary Stevens
from The Heron’s Nest 22.1 (2020)

beach innings
three driftwood stumps
and a dog at mid on

Tony Beyer
from number eight wire

morning glory –
gently the postman
opens the gate

Robert Gilliland
from Another Trip Around the Sun

prairie canola
a hitchhiker cradles the name
of a far port

LeRoy Gorman
from Presence 66 (2020)