Angie Hawk • Angie's Haiku •

Born in New Haven, Connecticut in 1953, Wally Swist has spent a majority of his life writing. In his early twenties, he was interested in zazen, but was quick to realize that his true passion was for haiku. According to Swist as quoted from his chapbook Sugaring Buckets , "My pursuit of the art of poetry, and of haiku, specifically, is a way of life--that juxtaposition of images (images being eternal) found in daily life which is not only an experience of a numinous nature or an epiphany, but a growth of awareness."   Wally Swist is an author with a very unique sense of sight. He sees with his eyes, but is able to translate these images with his heart and his pen. By simply seeing the world in its most natural state, Swist has written some of the most fascinating haiku. Several of his poems and haiku have emerged in publications such as The American Book Review, Modern Haiku, Osiris, Poetry East, and The Small Press Review. His awards are just as numerous, boasting a Connecticut Commission on the Arts grant, the Editor's Choice Award from Brussels Sprout, the Museum of Haiku Literature Award in Tokyo, and a Merit Book Award from the Haiku Society of America for his books Chimney Smoke and Unmarked Stones. Wally has resided in the vast country of western Massachusetts for most of his life. Haiku Analysis I have chosen eight of my favorite haiku by Wally Swist and written my responses to them in an attempt to show how so few words can bring about such a wide variety of emotions and atmospheres. pelting rain the cow's black spots move through mist Wally Swist, Sugaring Buckets, 8 This is a very interesting way of looking at the world. Rather than simply saying the cow is moving through the mist, you only see the cow's spots. This gives a very heavy feeling not only to the mist but also to the mood. "Pelting rain" is such a harsh, active phrase. I really enjoyed how the speed of the rain counteracted the lagging of the cow. brook's rush giving the stones a voice Wally Swist, The Gristmill's Trough, 4 Isn't it interesting how you don't notice things until something changes? This haiku is full of action; the running water, the singing stones, the silent awareness of the author. Without action, the stones would be without a voice, silenced without a chance to be heard. This haiku gives me an illustration of a shallow brook winding through a slightly wooded area away from all of the commotion caused by businesses and roadways. The water is just deep enough to occasionally graze over the tops of the smooth, worn stones. thunder rumbles in the distance        drenched kitchen screens dry mesh by mesh Wally Swist, The Haiku Anthology, 218 So many times do I look at this haiku and remember when I was much younger (which really wasn't that long ago). Our front door faces south, and we live out in the country with a wide-open golf course and cornfields surrounding us. My mother always told us she could "smell the rain coming." My parents would sit on the front tree swing while my 3 brothers and I would play in the yard, just waiting for the rain. Once it finally started raining hard enough for us all to go inside, we'd still leave the front door open to listen to the rain (since it faced the south, it usually didn't rain in... the rain just hung on the screen). the flatbed of baled hay rocks with the tractor's pull Indian summer Wally Swist, The Haiku Anthology, 221 This is such a wonderful image of the countryside in the summer. The smell of fresh-cut hay, the weight of the humidity in the air, the sound of the low-rumbling tractor; these are all such strong representations of a farm in the countryside. You can sense the exhaustion of the workers who baled the hay and how eager they are to rest in the shade with a cool glass of lemonade or iced tea. an old road through the hills fallen leaves fill the potholes Wally Swist, Blowing Reeds, 17 This haiku has two representations: one being the harmonization of nature and man, the other a metaphor for life. Life is full of holes, but something within that life is always there to them in. We see this same affiliation with relationships. When someone leaves our lives, another arrives and begins to fill the void. Although we know that the new person isn't the old and can never truly replace the old, the new sense of caring and understanding not only helps disguise the gap, but also helps us mend and eventually close it with time and love. On the other hand, we could view this haiku as a mere disguise. The pothole is still there, laying in wait beneath the gentle layer of leaves that we perceive as harmless. silence after our argument crumpled cigarette pack uncurling Wally Swist, Unmarked Stones, 13 This haiku shows a variety of emotion. First, there is a fight with anger and frustration. Then, there is a sense of calmness, unwinding. The cigarette pack was most likely wadded up and thrown during the fury of the argument. Now, after the yelling has ceased, the cigarette pack uncurls, letting go of all that tension, just as the individuals would. People tend to let their emotions take hold of them, encompass them, and lead them where they would never allow their mind wander. flecks of hay in the wind a pair of ponies whisk their tails Wally Swist, Gristmills Trough, 2 I liked this haiku simply because of the imagery used. There could be pieces of hay actually blowing in the wind, or it could be a metaphor for the horses' tails (which are thick and coarse like hay) blowing in the breeze. The weather seems warm with a light summer breeze; a meadow of green grass with dandelions everywhere. The stables situated at the top of the hill, shading the horses from the hot sun, are freshly painted. This haiku has a very light, carefree sense about it due to the weightlessness of the words used and images portrayed. heavy frost whitens the trees a strand of barbed wire glistens Wally Swist, Unmarked Stones, 2 In this image, the focus is on ice and how it distorts the image of the barbed wire. Barbed wire is usually thought of as sharp, but often rested. With a covering of ice, the wire could be given one of two images. First, the wire may appear softened; the ice forming bridges from the sharp points to the wire. On the other hand, the ice may give the wire a threatening appearance by simply outlining the points and emphasizing them with the glisten. This would distort the image in a way that makes it appear more threatening than it actually is. Haiku Comparison In this section, I have paired one of Wally Swist's haiku with one of another well-established author, Robert Spiess. The purpose of this is to show how an initial image can influence the way we read and interpret the subsequent image. lean-to of tin; a pintail on the river In the pelting rain Robert Spiess, The Haiku Anthology, 199 beneath the storm-shattered beech saplings begin To spread their shade Wally Swist, Mown Meadow, 68 These two haiku provide great individual images while their combination offers a whole new dimension. The first image establishes the weather, location, and atmosphere. The second haiku is a sort of representation of the aftermath of the storm in the first haiku. The second haiku also offers a sense of growth and rebirth. Although the beech tree is gone, its saplings have already seeded and are growing in the large beech's place. becoming dusk,-- the catfish on the stringer swims up and down Robert Spiess, The Haiku Anthology, 201 fishing story-- my imagination fills spaces between his hands Wally Swist, Gristmill's Trough, 8 These two haiku are obviously linked by the fish, but the detail drawn from within the haiku is what transforms them into a story. The first image, written by Robert Spiess, offers the setting of the banks surrounding a large lake or stream. A man, who has been fishing all day, sits back and watches as his prize swims back and forth in an attempt to free itself. The man decides to release the catfish, admiring its determination and beauty. When he finally arrives home (empty-handed), he begins to tell the tale of the fish, and with every telling, the space between his hands grows and grows.   Wally Swist has a unique talent of connecting humanity to nature. A majority of his haiku are written solely about nature, its beauty, and life as affected by it. He writes haiku that not only draw readers in, but also put them into the haiku and lets their own imagination fill in the details. No two interpretations are ever the same. With every person that reads his haiku, a new image is born, a new perception viewed, a new dream realized. Swist takes the simplest images observed in nature and every-day life, and transforms them into a collection of words, intricately and strategically placed, creating a haiku which is not only distinguishable, but also applicable. I thoroughly enjoyed researching works by Wally Swist. His love of nature and exquisite writing abilities have come together in his awe-inspiring haiku which portray nature in its purest form.    Sources The Haiku Anthology. New York, NY: W. W. Norton & Company Ltd., 1999.    Swist, Wally. The Mown Meadow. San Diego, CA: Los Hombres Press, 1996. Swist, Wally. Blowing Reeds. Fulton, Missouri: Timberline Press, 1995. Swist, Wally. The Gristmill's Trough. Richland Center, WI: Hummingbird Press, 1991. Swist, Wally. Sugaring Buckets. Battle Ground, IN: High/Coo Press, 1989. Swist, Wally. Unmarked Stones. Sherbrooke, QC, Canada: Burnt Lake Press, 1988.