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Impossible To Tell

to Robert Hass and in memory of Elliot Gilbert

Slow dulcimer, gavotte and bow, in autumn,
Bashõ and his friends go out to view the moon;
In summer, gasoline rainbow in the gutter,

The secret courtesy that courses like ichor
Through the old form of the rude, full-scale joke,
Impossible to tell in writing. 'Bashõ'

He named himself, 'Banana Tree': banana
After the plant some grateful students gave him,
Maybe in appreciation of his guidance

Threading a long night through the rules and channels
Of their collaborative linking-poem
Scored in their teacher's heart: live, rigid, fluid

Like passages etched in a microscopic cicuit.
Elliot had in his memory so many jokes

[...] Read more

poem by Robert Pinsky
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Basho's frog jumps in
to Basho's mind...emerges
into famous words.

haiku by Dónall Dempsey
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129

Perhaps to Basho the twins are boring

He himself does not want
To be imitated

Too boring like
A melon cut into half
Mirroring each other

Aren’t these twins
Boring?

Or Basho was just envious
He may be a poet of his age

But his poems never bore
Him a son

Or a mirror of his own face.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Frog Of Basho

the frog of basho
made its
jump into the water.

others say
there was this

flash that made the frog famous
not in Hollywood

but in the pages of an old poetry book.

the pond is forgotten.
it was it who said: flok!

not really flash, like light
bending itself to the power of the water.

basho of course
the poet, lives forever.

[...] Read more

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Homage to Matsuo Basho

Descendant of a samurai family
Page and friend of the son
Of the Lord of Iga Province
Great haiku poet
Creator of word pictures
In seventeen syllables
Matsuo Basho
I salute you.

Lover of plum blossom fragrance
Of thin layers of mist
The rising sun
On the mountain path
And the pristine elegance
Of the rice planting song
Matsuo Basho
Are you still on the road
From the monastery
On Mount Koya
To Kyoto?

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poem by Paul Hartal
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Two For Nimal

for Nimal Dunuhinga

Cracked Song For Dirty Boots

This tree

grows still

a child's mind

a bedroom window

This house

this window

gone but for

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poem by Warren Falcon
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0011 How Rilke might have translated Bashó on poetry

Be solitary.
Love solitude, and don’t look for poetry;
don’t seek what former poets sought;
see what is still and changeless;
see also what is changing;
be filled with the true nature of things – mountains, rivers, trees, grasses, falling blossoms, the scattering leaves,
and, yes, humanity too, its true nature –
and the universe will become your companion.
So your solitude will be full of the universe;
and you will watch, unmoved, the reality
and the vacuity of the world.

Concentrate your thoughts, in solitude,
on an object, on each object;
in this concentration,
the space between oneself and the object will disappear,
and the essential nature of the object can be perceived.

Then be quick to express it, while it lives for you;
say quickly what is in your mind;

[...] Read more

poem by Michael Shepherd
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lips too chilled
for prattle -
autumn wind

haiku by Matsuo Basho, translated by Lucien Stryk
Added by Dan Costinaş
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this path
no-one travels it anymore
except the twilight

haiku by Matsuo Basho
Added by Dan Costinaş
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From the blossoms of what tree
I don't know —
but this fragrance!

haiku by Matsuo Basho
Added by Dan Costinaş
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