Global Haiku • Fall 2016 |
|
Cuts Through the Chill by “Cuts Through the Chill” is a collection of my most peaceful and nature-related haiku. I found that when writing about my surroundings my haiku included far more imagery than when I was just writing about personal experiences. I believe that imagery is important in haiku because it gives the reader a situation to place themselves into rather than just a vague suggestion of emotion. Another highlight of many of the selected haiku is the use of the cut, making the title an unintentional play on words. I tried to use the third line of the haiku to change the mood and shatter the reader’s expectations of where the haiku was going. Most often this takes the form of a dramatic scene or emotion change, but occasionally it just gives an addition detail that would not have been a given from the first two lines. I think the best example of both of these features is the following haiku.
To every reader this can mean something different. For me the “explosion” is about five papers, to others it could be upwards of twenty. Everyone know their own organization methods and recognizes how odd it may look to others. Additionally, the first two lines of this haiku could be interpreted as an insult to the organizer, but the third line shows that it is about the author’s own organized chaos they have created, which many readers can relate to. Although many of these haiku could be about anyone’s experiences, I tried to keep my haiku as remotely about myself as possible. I found that when I tried to make them too fictional they became less believable. My haiku voice is my voice, which is what makes it digestible. ~Savannah Riestenberg, Global Haiku Tradition, Fall 2016 Reader's Introduction Savannah Riestenberg’s haiku recall familiar daily instances, the moments when you pause for just a second and realize something has changed.
From the first line the reader is wondering what this might mean, but then all becomes clear with the concluding line. It all clicks into place for any person who has witnessed an orchestra concert; the reader is suddenly sitting in the seats of a dark theater, facing the only source of light--the stage. The music has paused, but the director’s hands are still in the air. No one dares clap, for that gesture means it is forbidden; frozen silence. The musicians break then regain the ability to move and prepare their sheet music to play the next part; pages turn. The director’s hands are still in the air, hovering as instrumentalists adjust, but somehow the tension is building, and you know that something big is about to happen, something has changed. the final movement. Savannah painted this scene without giving any specific details, but it is all so clear to me. To another reader, a different scenario may appear, just as clear. She gives direction yet allows for the freedom of imagination. The common thread of this collection is recognition. I recognized a situation I’ve been in many times from just the few words, and it became real to me.
Yet again, she sets up a scene, familiar to many for a multitude of different reasons: a long-distance relationship, a recent heartbreak, a deceased lover, and so much more. Then she brings in the closer: “cat gone to stretch.” A surprise turn, and yet it makes so much sense. The longing that had begun to rumble while reading the first two lines, trying to anticipate the outcome, then changes with recognition. Pet owners know the situation portrayed in this piece oh too well, and though it is but a brief moment in the day, it is a recurring moment, and the reader identifies with that emotion, that time when you are confused by the emptiness and then realize the pet has just gone to stretch. Savannah’s collection is a delightful compilation of the little things we experience but often fade from our memory before we realize their significance. Here, she presents them to you to savor and remember. ~Brittany Mytnik, Tanka Writing Roundtable Fall 2011 About the Author Savannah Riestenberg is a Senior Vocal Music Education major and James Millikin Scholar. During her last semester on campus she thought haiku would be a nice way to break up all of the scary education courses before student teaching in the spring semester. Through this class she has found how easy it is to find haiku inspiration in everyday life. She says “the best haiku come from the most basic human experiences, it’s just how you write it down.” She hopes to find a way to utilize haiku in her future elementary general music classroom. |
the soft lull of crickets |
a moment on the couch |
hairspray |
surrounding myself |
rain drops |
frozen silence |
early bird |
empty spot |
surrounded by darkness |
|
candy crushed |
an explosion of paper |
© 2016, Randy Brooks • Millikin University
All rights returned to authors upon publication.