L'homme est un arbre des champs (by artist, Kola Remaz)

May 8, 2008
To a picture:

While the winter passed,
for sake of art, have cut out
and erased my self.

DW Bender

See Kola's picture, and his other artwork on Flickr, here: http://www.flickr.com/photos/kolaremaz/2476630438/

Two Untitled Tanka (One collaborative)

1.
seeing again
the beauty of tear drops
against dew drops /st
the mosses, catching them,
reveal a universe /db

untitled tanka
Susumu Takiguchi, UK: /st
DW Bender, USA: /db
January 4-5, 2007

2.
without announcement
a spell of winter rain falls
into loneliness...
how my feet keep on slipping
over clouds dropped by the sky

DW Bender
Janauary 18, 2007
untitled tanka

Leeches, Amoebas & Algae (Oh My!)

furuike ya...kawazu tobikomu...mizu no oto

stagnant pond...
a frog-leap into
water's sound

Matsuo Basho (1644-1694)
Translation version by DW Bender

Our (awesome) youngest grandson, who is in Middle School, has a new science homework project. He must blog what he's learned each day in science class. Currently the class is studying the inhabitants of a nearby pond: algae, amoebas, leeches and dragonfly larvae. His teacher even made a video of the field trip.

Mike was born with the gift of natural wit. Since he learned to talk, which was, developmentally, a bit late due to temporary hearing losses from constant ear infections, he's come up with hilarious, unexpected and perfectly timed quips. While his hearing was impaired, doubtless he was listening intensely in order to make sense of the world and his favorite cartoon shows. He's also extraordinarily smart; recent national testing put him in the top 2%, of his school peers.

the spring rain...
chalk equations washed
from concrete

haiku by DW Bender, 2002
Nightingale, June 2002 (revised 2008)

His mother, our daughter, is also funny, rather sarcastically so; a future "Maxine" in the making. Almighty Heidi assisted ScienceBoy in premiering his newborn blog. The first version of the homework-site was a creative hoot. And that's not just grand-maternal baby-book pride speaking. Both grandson and his mother are truly funny, unlike me, who loves to be inanely silly, but being more introspective, am not exactly a comic wit (and not even a brag-book holding grandma.)

His teacher wasn't amused, however, probably due to frustration with the genius's failing grades. This, due to his persistent and inherent 12-year long insidious streak of utter lazy-boned-ness. Science is his favorite class, led by his favorite teacher nonetheless. So, wisely deferring to his teacher, our duly chastened student changed the name of his blog from "I Hate Homework" to the more sensible, "Mike's Science Homework", toning down the bloggery humor to a more pablum-esque juvi-scholar mode. Still, I truly wish his teacher would have been more open to ScienceBoy's sharp sense of the comic, especially relating to the homework project. It would give that creative facet of the child further chance to blossom, enhancing his understanding of, and love for science.

spring loneliness
the inch of fathomless space
between two stars

haiku by DW Bender
"bottle rockets", Issue 7
& Simply Haiku 1-5, November 2003

Which brings up a point of concern. It grieves me when teachers don't realize, understand or encourage the complementary inter-connectedness of creative gifts to applied learning...and to the enjoyment of learning. Many throw discouragement toward those who might attempt to mingle the two, even if instinctively, as in the case of young students. Although most don't realize this concept, such talents are given not only for enjoyment. In fact, the entertainment factor, while equally valid and important in it's own right, probably developed as a secondary benefit. In the case of the gifted, the derived pleasure might simply be a motivational impetus. After all, we do many things, even things we wouldn't otherwise do, only because we find them pleasurable. I believe the precious creative gifts are, primarily, superior and inimitable learning tools bequeathed by the Creator, who, by sensible deduction, would surely desire us to use them for the good. What brilliant mental leaps can be made by children or adults when the love of music is applied to math, drawing to grammar, poetry to psychology, humor to biology, culinary arts to sociology or any number of combinations. So much potential. So many aborted and unborn bright synaptic fireworks. What unmitigated dulling down of the species! O ye wet rags! What are we thinking? How are we thinking? Are we thinking at all? (Deep, deep, deep grandmotherly sigh. Groaning.)

Brighten up. Take those Omega 3's. Better yet, let's remember how to intuit. Have some chocolate with the fish oil! Yes, Einstein, it isn't rocket science (or perhaps, actually, it is), yet it is as you have spoken: "Imagination is more important than knowledge." Fortunately, Mike's teacher is a person who cares very much about his students, and who is wonderfully talented and creative, himself. He makes learning fun. Even ScienceBoy's mother confesses she'd love to have been a student in his classes. So, there is hope that he'll indulge the wit when the wit gets serious with his grades. And I trust our grandson's love for his class and respect for his teacher will stimulate his left brain clear out of his mismatched right-brained lazy-socks.

shuncho ni...nagaruru mo ari...ya no gotoku

a sprig of algae...on spring tides....
.........shoots by...swift as an arrow

haiku by Sugita Hisajo [1890-1946]
translation version by DW Bender

==========

Meaning lies in meaning's absence. The mist / Is always almost just about to lift. / Nothing is truer. Dear, not even this / Candle can explain its searing twist / Of flame mounted on cool amethyst.—Excerpt from 'Sugar Dada', by J. Allyn Rosser

Love Haiku (for my first love)

that boy I once loved
is the man I still love...
warmth of the far sun

DW Bender
Haiku, February 12, 2008

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
How to Haiku: In 2001, I wrote a lesson-method article for World Haiku Review. Haiku Sketchbook offers beginners in haiku a way which I, myself, use to learn how to haiku from the masters. For this, I recommend studying only Japanese haijin at first. Why? Most of us, in beginner's ignorance are not writing haiku (or tanka, senryu, and haibun) at all. If you wish to learn to write haiku, to percieve the spirit of haiku, please do such a "sketchbook" study each day.

Two Haiku 2008: ancient fountain; clear tidepool...

ancient fountain
into which now falls only
its weight of winters

DW Bender
Haiku, February 1, 2008


clear shallows—
gulf weed floats over
its shadows

DW Bender
New Year/Winter Haiku, February 1, 2008
*gulfweed/sargassum - a New Year kigo

I want to remember this poem, "A Measuring Worm," by Richard Wilbur, published in The New Yorker.

winter rain...2008

winter rain...
again the sound of water
changes shape

DW Bender
Haiku, 2008

*first written as "summer rain..." for a photo, but this is winter, and we just had a winter rain last week. In other areas than Florida, the sound of water changes shape even more drastically, variably and noticeably.

A older "sound" tanka from 2001:

How could I help it?
escaping with the spring moon
on this quilted night...
somewhere a slow, shifting sound
and ink melts, slips over stone.

DW Bender
Tanka, February 12, 2001

Although no snow in Florida

For Haiku: One Deep Breath Week 87 Theme, "Winter Wonders"

even the child
painting, makes snowmen—
where no snow falls

DW Bender
Haiku, January 27, 2008 (rev.)

Notes: In Central Florida, we do not see dramatic winter miracles of snow and ice. However, I experienced a small wonder last week: a bright male cardinal scavanging food on a dry wintering lawn, which became the subject of a haiku in an earlier posting. This month my husband and I enjoyed viewing Japanese hanga, or woodblock prints at the Leepa-Rattner Museum of Art in Tarpon Springs. Two favorites were shin-hanga snow scenes. This weekend, I have been viewing the wonderous drawings and paintings of children for my own artistic inspiration.

My all-time favorite winter haiku is by the late Owen Burkhart of Dyer, Indiana, who I knew through the Shiki mailing list, and World Haiku Club. He published a book of his poetry, A Single Breath:

first snow
only very small
snowmen

Owen Burkhart (1930-2005)

Here is one of my older digital artworks with a Western-styled rhymed poem constructed with a haiku-like winter sequence (from around 2001):

The Grocery Cart

Debra Woolard Bender
Written loosely in the style of haibun, January 27, 2008
Haiku: One Deep Breath theme for Week 86: Vision

In a dark time, the eye begins to see. — Theodore Roethke (1908-1963)

My son, having less than three years left toward his second decade in the Air Force, recently volunteered to go to Iraq. His intentions were toward an open teaching position. A leader and instructor, that is what he does. His motivating desire is to give something of value to the Iraqi peoples. To give their military his knowledge-tools for rebuilding that they may become more self-sufficient. To use his teaching skills built through his field of work and experience. But last Tuesday, he was called to a four month stint, a duty not of his choice, and not in his field of expertise. That is the way of the military.

He will be leaving Georgia on Friday en route to the base in Iraq where he will serve. Originally, he was ordered to fly out only two days after notification, which didn't leave enough time for preparation. Although both work full-time, money has been too tight for my son and his wife, and this tour of duty will provide extra pay to help them meet expenses. He had been praying for an opportunity to add income in some way. He feels that this is the way of God's answer.

Later, in the afternoon of the day he told me the news, he phoned again. In the course of conversation, he told me about a quick trip to the grocery store with his wife and baby daughter to buy milk and bread. Before them, in the checkout line, stood a black woman and a white, retarded boy waiting for the cashier to ring up the total.

"Mom, the boy was so happy just to push the cart. Just pushing that cart made him so proud and happy." My son grew quiet, and I could hear him sobbing. It took awhile for him to gather his composure. To be able to speak. His voice came out strained. Completly broken.

"She told the boy, 'We don't have enough money for everything. We have to put some things back.'

"Do you know what they were buying?...What she had to put back?... Laundry detergent...staples. I wanted so badly to buy it for them. I didn't have the money to... . I had to buy food for my own family... . I couldn't...even... ." Driving home, he told his wife they had to find some way to do something for others who are in such need in their town when he returns from Iraq. Such is the way of my son.

frosty window
two abandoned cats watch me
prepare breakfast

Note: Please read the referenced, linked Roethke villanelle poem, In A Dark Time.

Update: February 1, 2008 - My son's deployment date was bumped up a week. This morning he was notified that this change in dates brought about another change. The Air Force powers-that-be reviewed the position, decided it was not critical at this time and therefore, his orders were cancelled. In many ways, he is disappointed not to go, although his family breathes a collective sigh of relief. Thank you Debbie@piacere, and those who have been praying for Mark and the family. Your prayers have been answered in this unexpected way.

January 26 - a male cardinal sighted

"Are not five sparrows sold for two pennies? Yet not one of them is forgotten in God's sight" (Luke 12:6).

withered grass, yet
here even the cardinal
has found a meal

DW Bender
January 26, 2008
winter haiku

January 23, 2008 - tanka

dream on, dear one,
only I am wide-awake
this winter night...
how silence gently seeps
around our limbs

DW Bender
tanka

and older modern haiga image:

winter haiku 1-22-2008

smoking chimney...
walking sticks at rest
beside the door

Debra Woolard Bender
Winter haiku, 1/22/08

an older haiku:

leaf rake
leant against that wall
since winter

onaji kabe tate-kake-rareshi kumade kana

Debra Woolard Bender, 2001

(Romanji translation by Susumu Takiguchi, UK, World Haiku Club)
Selected in WHC's Second Hoshino Takashi Kukai, August, 2001

Winter haiku & digital art (Socks)

(Please click image to enlarge and view)

chill morning—
we all go to dancing
on the roof of Hell

DW Bender
Winter haiku, January 2008

The above is an "allusory haiku." It refers to the following haiku haiku by master, Kobayashi Issa (1763 -1827):

世の中は地獄の上の花見哉
yo [no] naka wa jigoku no ue no hanami kana

in this world
over Hell, we promenade,
gazing at flowers

Issa
(translation version, mine)

Read more of Issa's haiku at David Lanoue's educational website, haikuguy.com: Haiku of Kobayashi Issa. David has a different translation of Issa's above poem, with notes on its Buddhist meanings.

Tanka, January 18, 2008 (HODB Theme: A Childhood Story)

Untitled Tanka for - Haiku: One Deep Breath
Week 85, Theme: A Childhood Story


paper snowflakes
that Daddy taped at every
windowpane...
the twinkling hush beyond
drifting whitely through time

DW Bender
Janauary 18, 2008
untitled tanka

The warmth of friends - Winter haibun

Every morning and late afternoon brings visitors—two tomcats—to my front door for free meals. Both the strays have something like a code gratitude, expressing affection to me before eating, and often between gulps of food. I have given both names to which they respond. One is a hefty young adult; judging by the state of his orange coat, he's a fierce warrior. His beguiling golden eyes are pink-rimmed, matching his nose and skin color. The other is nearly a year old, a muscular, velvet-gray foundling, who was apparantly adopted by my next door neighbors after being discovered as a tiny kitten — according to their other next-door neighbor. A friend of our indoor-outdoor male longhair, the graycoat prefers human attention. Unlike the orange tabby, the gray comes indoors when invited, to warm and rest himself. He has taken up as temporary residence, the main bathroom.

chill-damp night
into which sound has fallen—
slumbering deeply

DW Bender
Friday, January 18, 2008
haibun