October 16th 2016

····into the leaf pile—October’s darkness longer
········and longer
I know I’ve mentioned this before, but having written so many haiku, each day a new one, and having read just about every translation of haiku available, I’ve really come to sense the personality behind the poems—Basho’s, Buson’s, Onitsura’s, Kikaku, and many others. I’ve also found that I read haiku differently. I see them as doorways into a poet’s ongoing life. They invite the imagination into a larger world, the greatest being the most evocative and suggestive. I read haiku not as individual poems, but as parts of a greater whole. It’s no wonder readers new to haiku consider them trivial. Just as with Go, the simplicity of the rules belie the beauty and complexity of the game. Haiku are, in their way, a form of epic poetry.
345 October 16th 2016 | bottlecap

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