A new Grummanism today, “constersense,” to go with an old one, “nonsense,” and one in between old and new, “nearsense.”

One item always worth taking a look at in the Haiku Canada Review is the page on which N. F. Noyes discusses haiku he likes.  One of them got me thinking about nonsense

.              the car I didn’t notice                              isn’t there

It’s by someone calling himself G. A. Huth.  About this Noyes says, “From a fourteenth century poet I quote: ‘Generally speaking, a poet requires some understanding of emptiness.’”

(An amusing comment to make in a discussion of the World-Expert in the praecisio.  See Geof’s blog for details on that if–shame on you–you don’t know what it is.)

Noyes goes on to say, “Here the sudden emptiness provides a strong “Aha!” experience, despite a seeming diregard for the haiku’s chief guideline of close observation, in ‘I didn’t notice.’”

(But I would contend that what the poet closely observed with his act of not noticing.)

Noyes was reminded of a haiku by Buson:

.                            Tilling the field:
.                       The cloud that never moved
.                            Is gone.

The other two haiku Noyes liked (as did I) are:

.                            a kicked can
.                            cartwheels
.                            into its echo                  –Jeffrey Winke

.                            transplanting
.                            four rose bushes
.                            transplanting bees       –Liz fenn

More on nonsense and related matters tomorrow, if I’m up to it.  (Final note: I at first mistyped Geof’ haiku as “the care I didn’t notice       isn’t there.”)

A new Grummanism today, “constersense,” to go with an old one, “nonsense,” and one in between old and new, “nearsense.”

One item always worth taking a look at in the Haiku Canada Review is the page on which N. F. Noyes discusses haiku he likes.  One of them got me thinking about nonsense

.              the car I didn’t notice                              isn’t there

It’s by someone calling himself G. A. Huth.  About this Noyes says, “From a fourteenth century poet I quote: ‘Generally speaking, a poet requires some understanding of emptiness.’”

(An amusing comment to make in a discussion of the World-Expert in the praecisio.  See Geof’s blog for details on that if–shame on you–you don’t know what it is.)

Noyes goes on to say, “Here the sudden emptiness provides a strong “Aha!” experience, despite a seeming diregard for the haiku’s chief guideline of close observation, in ‘I didn’t notice.’”

(But I would contend that what the poet closely observed with his act of not noticing.)

Noyes was reminded of a haiku by Buson:

.                            Tilling the field:
.                       The cloud that never moved
.                            Is gone.

The other two haiku Noyes liked (as did I) are:

.                            a kicked can
.                            cartwheels
.                            into its echo                  –Jeffrey Winke

.                            transplanting
.                            four rose bushes
.                            transplanting bees       –Liz fenn

More on nonsense and related matters tomorrow, if I’m up to it.  (Final note: I at first mistyped Geof’ haiku as “the care I didn’t notice       isn’t there.”)

A new Grummanism today, “constersense,” to go with an old one, “nonsense,” and one in between old and new, “nearsense.”

One item always worth taking a look at in the Haiku Canada Review is the page on which N. F. Noyes discusses haiku he likes.  One of them got me thinking about nonsense

.              the car I didn’t notice                              isn’t there

It’s by someone calling himself G. A. Huth.  About this Noyes says, “From a fourteenth century poet I quote: ‘Generally speaking, a poet requires some understanding of emptiness.’”

(An amusing comment to make in a discussion of the World-Expert in the praecisio.  See Geof’s blog for details on that if–shame on you–you don’t know what it is.)

Noyes goes on to say, “Here the sudden emptiness provides a strong “Aha!” experience, despite a seeming diregard for the haiku’s chief guideline of close observation, in ‘I didn’t notice.’”

(But I would contend that what the poet closely observed with his act of not noticing.)

Noyes was reminded of a haiku by Buson:

.                            Tilling the field:
.                       The cloud that never moved
.                            Is gone.

The other two haiku Noyes liked (as did I) are:

.                            a kicked can
.                            cartwheels
.                            into its echo                  –Jeffrey Winke

.                            transplanting
.                            four rose bushes
.                            transplanting bees       –Liz fenn

More on nonsense and related matters tomorrow, if I’m up to it.  (Final note: I at first mistyped Geof’ haiku as “the care I didn’t notice       isn’t there.”)

Tags: haiku, praecisio

This entry was posted on Monday, November 9th, 2009 at 12:55 PM and is filed under Geof Huth, N. F. Noyes, Poetics. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.