Advice on writing

coffee cup, glasses, and calendar

A haiku worth reading —
begins in delight
and ends in wisdom
— Bashō no yōna, thoughts on Robert Frost

Adapting Robert Frost’s advice on writing poetry.


“Surprise,”
says the frog to the pond,
“Splash,” it responds.
— thoughts on Basho’s most famous haiku

On a child helping his mother baking a cake.

After baking a cake,
a smile
says it all

Before the cake is baked, taking a spatula to the bowl of leftover frosting. That smudge of chocolate at the corner of the mouth of a child, a mother’s delight.

Eighth Day Books

On a cold windy day in February a bookstore is a good place to be. Far from the Madding Crowds.

Surrounded by books

I’ll never read

A terrible waste?

.

Words to live by

The power of words

Less said is well said

.

The Trojan War

Cherchez la femme

Helen

From the Power of Words by Simone Weil. The absurdity is that we blame anyone but ourselves. Making conflict our passion, making war, our goal.

When it comes to computers

Words are empty

Of feeling

.

No more, no less

Words have the meanings

We give them

.

A world

Without words

How Dao

.

But utterly boring for words get us going, for good or for bad, but my God, we’re moving. Or sitting and reading.

Then came the snow, falling gently at first, then blindingly fast, telling me it is time to go.

Simone Weil (1909-1943), one who died caring too much.

Eighth Day Books in Wichita, Kansas on Douglas Avenue, east of Downtown, west of Uptown.

The sound of ice breaking

rider on horseback in the snow, hiroshige

Sounds of Nature

We have heard Matsuo Basho repeatedly speak of Nature talking. Most famously in the haiku about the frog, the pond, and splash, kerplunk. Basho has also spoken of rain dripping, sleet falling, and rice being tossed in a basket.

The sounds of Nature are familiar to us all.

Here is one we have all encountered in winter:

Baby steps on thin ice,
Ice cracking,
Breaking the silence
— Bashō no yōna, February 2025

The sound of ice breaking a bottle. Basho did, for a period, study Buddhism. On cold, frigid night in 1693, alone at home, ice shattered a bottle. Perhaps, nezame kana was his “Awakening and Enlightenment.”

Or maybe, it simply disturbed his sleep.

a bottle of water is broken,
a cold icy night,
— an awakening!
瓶割るる / 夜の氷の / 寝覚め哉
kamewa ruru / yoru no koori no / nezame kana
Matsuo Basho, Winter 1693

This haiku is given as the sixth year of Genroku, 1693. If so, it was Basho’s last winter in Edo, and Basho’s last winter. He died in November of 1694.

Winter Cat

Miss Kitty

I have a calico cat who goes out each morning unless there’s snow. When she wants to come in she politely paws at the door. I wish she’d learn to knock. I call her Miss Kitty, my wife calls her Callie. Together, when it’s time to come in. we both yell, “Kitty, Kitty!”

Winter Cat
wants in
not out
.
winter kitty cats,
you know,
don’t know it’s snow
.
winter cats
like to hide
in dresser drawers
.
should winter kittens
wear mittens
to keep their paws warm?

One week later, Winter kitty is stir crazy …

Winter kitty finally went out
Truth be told
It’s still damn cold



The sound of tossing rice

Winter overlooks
this home, for the tossing of rice
is like the sound of sleet

冬知らぬ宿や籾摺る音霰
fuyu shiranu / yado ya momi suru / oto arare

— In the first year of the Tei-Kyō era (1684), Matsuo Basho, age 41.

Let’s trick Mother Nature by tossing rice in a basket while cold sleet pounds the roof.

Preparing rice by tossing it in a basket to remove the husks is a long forgotten task to the modern family. Rice comes in bags ready to cook. In Basho’s time, removing the chaff from the grain would precede tossing the rice in the boiling water. Add to this soothing sound, the happy chatter of the family inside a warm home, and the sound of the cold snow or sleet falling outside, and you have the makings of a warm winter haiku.

Fuyu shiranu — one, winter doesn’t know; winter passes by; three, winter misses; four, invisible to winter. Basho wrote this poem during his journey he called “Nozarashi Kiko.” He was on his way to the Nagao shrine in Katsuragi in Nara, when he stopped at the home of a wealthy family.

rice being tossed in a basket like the sound of hail

It is beginning to snow

It is beginning to snow. How delightful, unless you are a young monk, out on the road, standing in the snow, begging for a coat. It was the fourth year of the Genroku (1691-92), Basho was returning to Edo, saddened, I suspect, for he was not feeling well. Basho was 47 turning 48, and it was beginning to snow.

It is beginning to snow
and the saintly young monk
is the color of his wooden backpack

初雪や .　聖小僧が .　笈の色
Hatsu-yuki ya . Hijiri-kozo ga . Oi no iro
— Matsuo Basho, Winter 1691-92

The Backpack Color
White or red. Two theories on the backpack color. One, the backpack was white from the snow, and the monk was getting pale. Two, the backpack was red (as I have seen online) and the monk’s face was red from the bitter cold.

Kōya Hijiri (高野聖), young monks from Mount Kōya, south of Osaka, who were sent out to preach Buddhism with nothing more than a wooden backpack and bowl to beg for food.

man on horseback in snow, Hiroshige, source Wikipedia

Light the Fire

To see in the dark

One only has to

Turn on the light

.

If it were only that easy, but it’s not, or maybe I’m trying too hard to find the switch.

.

I’d light the fire

And you’d place the flowers

In the vase and add water

— Crosby Stills Nash Young

.

The afternoon sun

A tall snowman holding a broom,

Becoming nothing

.

Random thoughts

Reading Alan Watts

Waiting for the sun to rise