Chen-ou Liu's Translation Project: First English-Chinese Haiku and Tanka Blog

Wednesday, July 28, 2010

Fruit Haiku

nose prints
on the store window
fruit sundaes


July/August 2010 fruit haiku thread of Sketchbook (Editor's Choice)

After Epiphany

I used to be the black cloud,
now I'm turning grey.
Hands age, veins emerge,
wrinkles gradually set in
around the mouth and brows.
The back begins to ache,
the voice gets hoarse,
a charming quality to some,
the roughness of the age to others.

Today, as I strolled down Yonge,
I was suddenly pushed
by a careless teen
who rushed by me.
While regaining my footing,
I saw an elderly man
trying in vain to retrieve
his rolling oranges.
As he crawled after them,
I realized he is helplessly old
and I am helplessly young.


September 2009 issue of Word Catalyst

Tuesday, July 27, 2010

As You Like It

For Samuel Beckett

All the world’s a stage. My play has no actors, just a stage full of rubbish. It begins with a brief, faint cry, then the amplified sound of a human breath accompanied by an increase and decrease in the intensity of the light, followed by another faint cry as the lights fade and the curtain falls.

a falling star
flares up for a moment...
John Doe

August 2009 issue of Word Catalyst

Thursday, July 22, 2010

Salmon Senryu

his smile . . .
the salmon showing its teeth
lies motionless


2010 HAS Members' Anthology, Sharing the Sun

Wednesday, July 21, 2010

Fruit Haiku

peeling my pear
in a thin, unbroken spiral...
hometown memories


July/August 2010 fruit haiku thread of Sketchbook (First Choice Winner)

An Immigrant in the Promised Land

I confess my sins. There are things I can never do away with: my accented English, my yellow skin, and my graying hair. But I vow to do the following things today: slice time into moments, chop off hometown memories, and swallow Oxford Practice Grammar page by page.

alone
I hang on the cross
dead
to each passing day --
be born again… as usual

Tuesday, July 20, 2010

Sleepless Night

Night without end. My heart clings
to the lower tip of the crescent moon.

In bleeding calculation
I evaluate the price.

Vast -- in its passion ratio
to that of my withering body!


November 2009 Issue of Word Catalyst

Sinner’s Mind and Saint’s Heart

the heavenly realm
of the believers
is holy and pure
yet not beyond
the mind of a sinner

the nether world
of the nonbelievers
is cold and gloomy
yet still in
the heart of a saint

beyond the sky
beneath the ground
is there an attentive ear
attuned
to silenced souls


November 2009 Issue of Word Catalyst

Sunday, July 18, 2010

Gogyohka about Religion

Jesus said
let the children come to me
don't stop them
but some priests put them
under their robes


May/June 2010 issue of Sketchbook

Loneliness Gogyohka

alone
in my attic
I perform
stand-up for a sea of stars
rain returns its ovation


May/June 2010 issue of Sketchbook

Immigration Gogyohka

when asked
where are you from
I see
Canada geese fly over
their route, my roots


May/June 2010 issue of Sketchbook

Relationship Gogyohka

walking my fingers
over the stony wall
of your heart
Three Colors: Blue
on the radio


May/June 2010 issue of Sketchbook

Gogyohka about Existentialism

mangy dog
hit by a flying bottle
runs blindly through traffic
so does this angst
across my mind


May/June 2010 issue of Sketchbook

Gogyohka about Writing

the time needed
for creation to take place
between the pen and the page
is not six days
but a lifetime


May/June 2010 issue of Sketchbook

Cosmos Haiku

Milky Way…
bit by bit I put myself
out of my mind

Haiku News (July, 18, 2010)

Saturday, July 17, 2010

Love Gogyohka

my desire for you
grows lusher
like spring grass
even though
autumn winds will come


May/June 2010 issue of Sketchbook

Longing Gogyohka

I shred
long winter nights
into myriad threads
and weave a spring quilt
as a gift for your return


May/June 2010 issue of Sketchbook

Memory Gogyohka

the smiling you
waiting by our tree
in breezy spring days
reconnected through Classmate Finder
the same smile from a wrinkled face


May/June 2010 issue of Sketchbook

Autumn Gogyohka

the autumn sunset
on a church graveyard
a mangy dog
by the moss
stares into the sky


May/June 2010 issue of Sketchbook

Spring Gogyohka

the spring wind
melts snow
on the garden
I wish it could do the same
to my frosty loneliness


May/June 2010 issue of Sketchbook

Friday, July 16, 2010

Either/Or: A Gogyohka Sequence

for Søren Kierkegaard

buried
under piles of books about Him
I rant and rave
He stands by
and keeps throwing His words

to believe
or not to believe
that is the question
I ponder
sunrays drift in and out of the window

the cracks in the ground
upon which I stand
become bigger year by year
doubting Thomas
in a land of promise

my heart
believes in His words
but my mind won’t
a tug-of-war
for my soul

my life with Him
like riding the merry-go-round
it goes round and round
up and down
but gets me nowhere

alone
in the dark
I hang Him
on the cross within me
it's finished?


May/June 2010 issue of Sketchbook

Thursday, July 15, 2010

Wednesday, July 14, 2010

Tanka about Writing

every time
after I finish writing poems
I see
cyclamens by the window
stand unfailingly erect


May/June 2010 issue of Sketchbook

Tanka about Writing

the poem
I’ve worked on for months
gray and cold
time to shuffle off
this mortal coil


May/June 2010 issue of Sketchbook

Snow Tanka

snow
taking the features
from the landscape --
I unearth them
on a page of tanka


May/June 2010 issue of Sketchbook

Death Tanka

Death
clad in black negligee
caresses me
how can I stop her
from stimulating my poems?


May/June 2010 issue of Sketchbook

The Years of Living Dangerously: A Haiku Sequence

spring 1975...
sleep in Saigon
but wake up in Houston

summer palace
of the Fertile Crescent --
Green Zone

autumn leaves
bounce and swirl in the air...
echoes of Miss Saigon

shooting stars
cross the Kabul sky --
the wolf moon


May/June 2010 issue of Sketchbook

Tuesday, July 13, 2010

ER Tanka

staring
at the revolving door . . .
seeing
the handless clock
above the ER counter

Summer issue of Ribbons

Thursday, July 8, 2010

Footprints in the Snow

After almost an hour of aimlessly walking on the snow-covered streets of Toronto while thinking of giving up my life here, I suddenly feel an uncontrollable urge to cry out. I stop walking and raise my head, screaming at the top of my lungs about all the frustrations pent up since I immigrated to Canada six years ago: “I’m really tired of starting over. No matter what I do, it gets wiped out. I want to leave something meaningful behind.”

passing by each other
then disappearing...
footprints in new snow


August, 2009 issue of Word Catalyst

The NeverEnding Story

I come to Him, carrying memories embedded in my splintered flesh. I pray to Him to help me take the sting out of my wounds, and push away the shards of solitude. I cry out to Him for hours, but no reply is forthcoming.

alone
in the dark
I hang
on the cross within me
finished …

July, 2009 issue of Word Catalyst

Wednesday, July 7, 2010

An Immigrant’s Progress

My tongue
twists for English;
yet I never lose
the movements
of my mother tongue.

My feet
stand on newly bought property,
a piece of the Promised Land --
it fulfills an obligation
to Citizenship Canada.

My garden
is carpeted with moist green;
morning dewdrops cling
to blades of grass
just as I do.

My mind
is torn between two worlds,
an ocean apart --
I often sleep in Taipei
but wake up in Ajax


July, 2009 issue of Word Catalyst

The Stab of a Memory

This afternoon, I was sitting
alone by the window,
looking out at the maple's branches
gracefully swaying in the breeze.
Out of nowhere, I felt
the stab of a memory:
you waving me goodbye.

I balanced
on that memory,
the universe hanging
on the branches.


May, 2009 issue of Word Catalyst

Tuesday, July 6, 2010

Nostalgia Tanka

my past
no longer outside the door
ringing, waiting
storms into my room
asks for my passport


Summer issue of Ribbons

Saturday, July 3, 2010

Cherry Haiku

the cherry tree
ruffled by a spring breeze
your coarse hands


Summer, 2010 issue of Haiku Ramblings

Mist Haiku

steamed buns…
climbing up the windows
white mist


Summer, 2010 issue of Haiku Ramblings

Moon Haiku

under the bright moon
the wine and Li Po
or cherry blossoms?


Summer, 2010 issue of Haiku Ramblings

Nostalgia Haiku

Taipei memories
here in a flash, gone in a flash...
snowflakes on snowflakes


Summer, 2010 issue of Haiku Ramblings

Snow Haiku

snow-blanketed road --
men and women in black
solemn walk


Summer, 2010 issue of Haiku Ramblings

Moon Haiku

the faint glow
in her dull eyes…
flower moon


Summer, 2010 issue of Haiku Ramblings

Butterfly Haiku

cherry petals
swirling in mid-air --
pink butterflies


Summer, 2010 issue of Haiku Ramblings

Friday, July 2, 2010

Simply Haiku Interview

An Interview with Chen-ou Liu
by Robert D. Wilson


“My mind, which was yearning after some indescribable thing from morning to night, could find an outlet to some extent only by making poems.”

– Ishikawa Takuboku

“I feel the pain and I see the beauty.”

– Masaoka Shiki

RDW: Seemingly, out of nowhere you appear in the haiku world like a jack-in-the-box, your haiku is getting attention. Most people writing good haiku today have been at it a long time, some for decades, and are, of course, well known. Few, however, are Chinese, and fewer are those who were born and raised in Taiwan and come to North America to earn a living, and compose quality haiku in a language, like Chinese, that is considered one of the hardest languages to learn. And as I learn more about you, I see that you’re an individual who puts his all into everything he does, some call it perfectionism. You literally become one with your art while composing.

What brought you to North America? ...


Summer, 2010 issue of Simply Haiku

Make Haibun New through Chinese Poetic Past: Basho’s Transformation of Haikai Prose

Basho believed that the poet had to work along both axes. To work only in the present would result in poetry that was fleeting. To work just in the past, on the other hand, would be to fall out of touch with the fundamental nature of haikai, which was rooted in the everyday world.

- Haruo Shirane

In the narrow sense of the word, haikai, which gave birth to haiku, originally referred to the humorous poems found in the first imperially commissioned anthology of poetry. It was later used to describe popular comic linked verse (haikai no renga), distinguishing itself from the more refined, classical linked verse (renga). Broadly speaking, it is used to “describe genres deriving from haikai or reflecting haikai spirit, such as haiku, haibun, renku, and haikai kikobun, literary travel account”.1 During the second half of the 17th century, there were innovative movements within Japanese haikai circles, and they had transformed haikai from an entertaining pastime to a respected poetic form.2 Furthermore, haiku, originated from hokku which was the opening verse of a haikai sequence, has flowered for four centuries and established itself not only as an autonomous genre of Japanese short verse form, but as a globalized verse form in many languages. As the putative founder of haiku, Matsuo Basho made enormous contribution to the refinement, success, and popularization of Japanese haiku and its related genres.3


Summer, 2010 issue of Simply Haiku

Thursday, July 1, 2010

Snow Haiku

teeth whitening ...
the sound
of snowflakes

Revision, Magnapoets, July 2010

Aging Tanka

stuck in a pot
lilies keep the same color
for years
but I've grayed
inside out


July 2010 issue of Magnapoets