Archive for the ‘My poems’ Category

Better Read Than Dead, a poem by Ken Chawkin

February 13, 2012

Here is another earlier poem, written sometime in the late 80’s or early 90’s, when I was filling in as an extra Maharishi Ayurvedic health technician during an exclusive weekend for special guests at what is now called the Maharishi Ayurveda Health Center Lancaster in Massachusetts.

In the staff dining room over lunch, I met a former concert violinist who had recently switched careers to become a Maharishi Ayurveda massage therapist. When I asked her why she stopped playing in the symphony she said her arms had been giving her problems. As a result of encountering Maharishi Ayurveda, she took treatments and then felt it would be more nourishing for her to become a therapist and treat others.

We talked about poetry and music, how reading words or notes on paper didn’t really bring a poem or piece of music to life; it had to be recited or played, and appreciated by an audience. That discussion inspired me, and during a quiet moment there, I wrote Better Read Than Dead.

Better Read Than Dead

Better read than dead, better said than read.
Poems are not meant to be just words left for dead on a page.
They’re meant to be read alive instead to an audience from a stage.

The blue print is not the building,
nor is a picture of it,
nor a vision of it.

When two beams of focused light intersect
through a piece of film
they fill the place before them with a form of light
in three-dimensional space.

When two beams of focused attention intersect
through a poet’s words,
speech going through them, silence receiving them,
they fill the space in the heart with a form of feeling.

From the heart, through the mouth, to the ear, into the heart, in here.

© Ken Chawkin

Later Updated with these relevant posts: Sometimes Poetry Happens: a poem about the mystery of creativity, and Celebrating Poetry Month with one of my poems, Poetry—The Art of the Voice, and what inspired it. It includes links to interviews from The Diane Rehm Show with Bill Moyers and poets Marge Piercy, Mark Strand, and Jane Hirshfield, who were included in his PBS poetry special: Fooling with Words with Bill Moyers.

Vancouver Park Poems by Ken Chawkin

January 23, 2012

Some people whistle while they work; I write poems. I wrote a poem on my first day working for the Vancouver Board of Parks and Recreation as a paper-picker in Queen Elizabeth Park. It was in the mid-1990’s, during winter, and I remember noticing that berries on trees had turned white.

The regular park attendant left each year to go to California for the winter and he was looking for a temporary replacement. Some friends who had done the job for him the previous year asked me if I was interested. I told them I was and suggested they arrange a meeting.

Turns out he was a poet and a spiritual seeker who had been to India to spend time with his guru. We talked about meditation and shared some of our poetry. I admired his nature poems written from his experiences in the park. They were rhapsodic. I remember him telling me that every tree in the park knew him. He arranged for me to take his job for the winter, and we negotiated my staying in his place, the park facility across the street in Hillsdale Park.

I was very lucky to have gotten that job by referral, by default. That’s what his boss implied since he had to approve me for the position. He wasn’t too happy with the arrangement but went along with it. He said many people were on a waiting list to become a paper-picker or a caretaker in one of the city parks, prized positions that paid well.

When the person I had replaced returned, the Parks Board manager offered me a job for the summer, going to Stanley Park and other city facilities along the public beaches, cleaning up and replacing soap and paper supplies in public washrooms. That was an afternoon job with a lady. We would travel as a team in one of the Park vans.

But the winter job kept me active, walking miles each day, spent mostly in nature, in a beautiful park setting. It was what I needed at the time. And I made more money doing that than my other job teaching kids writing after school at a Sylvan Learning Center in North Vancouver.

As a city employee, I had become a member of the local blue collar union. My responsibilities included cleaning the public washrooms early in the mornings, the gardeners’ facilities on Sundays, and walking the park grounds picking up trash. That wasn’t too bad in the winter compared to the summer when a lot of people used the park for picnics.

In the early mornings, I’d see many Chinese people doing their Tai Chi and walking around. When I’d walk by they’d tell me I had the best job—I was getting my exercise and getting paid! But having to work outside in the often cold, windy, rainy weather was not something I looked forward to. So to help me get through those days, I’d repeat something Maharishi had told us about work: “See the job; do the job; stay out of the misery.”

It was good to just do physical work for a change, be simple, appreciate nature, and compose poems when inspired to do so as I walked around. I kept myself amused that way. Here’s an example. On that first day as I was walking in the park, I thought of how things grow in nature, and their relationships, like those whitened berries, and the birds who ate them. Every time I share this poem with kids, they squeal with delight!

NATURE’S BI-CYCLE

Berries are meant to be eaten by birds
who poop out the seeds contained in their turds
this process prepares seeds to sprout in the spring
’til one day they’re trees and in them birds sing

Here are a few more poems written while working in that Vancouver City Park. I was walking along the park lawn picking up trash when I almost got hit by a falling acorn. I looked up and saw a tall oak tree. That was funny, I thought. Did that tree try to get me? What a sense of humor! I chuckled to myself and wrote this haiku.

I Wonder

Do trees have a say
When to drop anchors away
As ripe acorns fall?

I noticed that crows used to climb on top of the large garbage cans and pull out the trash. Not only did we have to pick up trash dropped by visitors to the park, we also had to contend with the animals, like crows, ducks, geese, seagulls, squirrels, and racoons. Here’s a little poem I made up while walking among the gardens, ponds and lawns. It went something like this.

Along the path
comes the paper-picking man,
picking up paper
as fast as he can.

Sparrows fly like arrows
among the underbrush,
foraging for food,
they’re always in a rush.

Crows put their nose
into every garbage can,
pulling out the trash
for the paper-picking man.

There were stanzas about ducks quibbling over crackers, and squirrels stashing nuts. You get the idea. That was one way to keep from getting bored on the job. Speaking of geese, having spent years in Iowa, seeing cows grazing in the countryside, the first time I went downtown to Stanley Park, I saw Canada Geese grazing on the park lawns. A very strange sight, to me, at the time. It sparked this haiku.

Canadian Geese
Grazing on the park’s green grass
Downtown city cows.

On one of my walks another day, I was playing with words and came up with this seemingly nonsensical fun poem about transformation.

   Bats, Birds, & Words

A Bat is a Rat with Wings
A Bird is a Word that Sings
A Cat eats the Rat
The Bird eats its Word
A Bird is Aword with Wings

I used to go for walks with a friend in Cates Park, located in Deep Cove, a little seaside village situated on the eastern edge of the District of North Vancouver. In that park along the Burrard Inlet there is a walk called the Malcolm Lowry Walk, named after author, Malcolm Lowry, who squatted in the park from 1940-1954 in a shack with his wife Margerie. He wrote much of his classic novel, Under the Volcano (1947), there. John Huston made it into a movie by the same name (1984). This short trail takes you through a forest path, past a children’s play area, then along the waterfront to a nice pebble beach with a view of Indian Arm.

On one walk, I noticed a bunch of smooth rocks along the roadside. I thought it was odd for these water-worn rocks to be by the road instead of on the beach. I began thinking of that childhood tune of sticks and stones breaking bones, and was drawn to one of the rocks. It spoke to me. It cracked me up with it’s cosmic sense of humor; I had to write it down. After I wrote the poem, I picked up the rock and took it home.

RIVER ROCK SPEAKS

Deep Cove River Rock
From the Road
Says its Thing
I’ve been Told

Make No Bones
About This
Of All Stones
I AM ONE!

© Ken Chawkin

These two poems, Being in Nature, and its sequel, trees—a poem about the nature of trees, were a gift from a tree on the edge of the UBC Endowment Lands, another park in Vancouver. I also went to Lynn Canyon Park in Lynn Valley, North Vancouver. Check out the Virtual Tour. I took the Suspension Bridge across the ravine to walk in the rainforest. Along one of the trails I noticed these beautiful small white flowers at the base of a very tall tree, which inspired another haiku, Forest Flowers. It was later published in a group, 13 Ways to Write Haiku: A Poet’s Dozen for The Dryland Fish, and in Five Haiku for This Enduring Gift.

Forest Flowers

tiny white flowers
a constellation of stars
so low yet so high

Since we’re on a favorite topic, trees, see What Do Trees Do? Something to think about, also written when I was living in North Vancouver; and these two more recent poems from Fairfield, Iowa: Willow Tree – a tanka – from a tree’s perspective, and Friendship – another tree tanka, about two trees in front of my house.

More poems were written during my stay in Vancouver and surrounding locales, but we’ll have to leave those for another time, before this post turns into the chapter of a book!

If you plan to visit Vancouver, check out some of these wonderful parks. There’s a reason they call it Super, Natural British Columbia. Watch this 90-second video made for the 2010 Olympic Winter Games, Vancouver 2010: You Gotta Be Here – Super Natural British Columbia, featuring British Columbians Michael J. Fox, Ryan Reynolds, Erick McCormack, Kim Cattrall, Steve Nash, and Sarah McLachlan.

If you’re in Vancouver, BC, a Dec 6, 2023 video created by Canadian travel videographer Les McDonald might inspire you to visit Vancouver Island Canada: What to Do The Ultimate Insider’s Guide. If you’re really feeling adventuresome, see this documentary he made featuring The Real Canadian Rockies: Banff, Jasper, Kootenay, and Yoho National Parks.

Les includes views of the Fairmont Chateau Lake Louise. That was the sublime setting for a meditation course I had attended, June 9-14, 1968. It was memorialized in a CBC documentary, Maharishi at Lake Louise.

— Written and compiled (citing sources) by Ken Chawkin for The Uncarved Blog.

trees—a poem about the nature of trees

January 23, 2012

      trees

trees are patient
trees are kind

trees don’t argue
they don’t mind

if we’re cruel
….. or unkind

trees are patient
trees are kind

© Ken Chawkin

A sequel to Being in Nature, a gift from a tree.
Both written mid-1990’s in winter, Vancouver, BC.

Also see What Do Trees Do? Something to think about, Willow Tree – a tanka – from a tree’s perspective, and Friendship – another tree tanka.

ArtWords—poem about a creative awakening

January 7, 2012

Ever tried painting? I mean the creative kind, not just painting the walls of your apartment. During my last year (1998), living in Vancouver, BC, Canada, one of my friends gave me the gift of an art class with Anita Nairne, an intuitive artist and teacher. She had been studying with Anita and I was impressed with the transformation in her artwork. At the time Anita was promoting her classes as Paint with your Angels. I found her website and she now calls her Intuitive Painting workshops & classes Creative Awakening.

Painting From The Inside Out

Anita is like a midwife to your artistic instincts. It was an unforgettable experience. She gave me a large white gessoed piece of thick art paper stock, brushes, and acrylic paints, and told me to just cover it with paint, anyway I liked. Without realizing what was happening, I found myself freely, intuitively brushing blotches of paint all over the paper. I was having fun. At one point she took the paper and put it up on the wall under lights and asked me what I saw. She would outline those shapes with chalk, or erase them, depending on what I thought was there. Much to my surprise, the edges of those blotches looked like facial profiles. She returned the artwork and showed me how to accentuate and bring out the faces. At one point, I realized I was ‘painting’ a sort of visual biography of my life, ‘recognizing’ some of the people I had loved, and who had loved me, or at least attempts at loving.

Feelings Not Thoughts

During this process my active thinking mind was not involved—a rare occurrence for someone who’s used to working with words all the time to express himself. I was now creating from a deeper, quieter, more intuitive place within me. I was painting from my heart. I was painting feelings, and they were telling me something! That realization blew my mind. Automatically the words started to form in my mind to describe what had just happened. Below is a poem from that experience.

ArtWords

The artwork informs
The canvas reveals
The mind then knows
What the heart feels

The faces in the painting
The pictures of my life
Where love was a saviour
Where love caused much strife

This process uncovers
Those parts of our lives
To show us the truth
To make us more wise

It’s possible to know
It’s possible to forgive
I’ll never forget you
As long as I live

© Ken Chawkin

I returned for two more classes. I was taking a new direction in my life and was getting ready to leave town in a few months to join the Purusha group in North Carolina. During my last class, I guess that sense of impending movement and transformation, the anticipated travel and making a new beginning, was trying to express itself on paper. I ended up painting a brightly colored phoenix bird at the top, flying eastward. Prophetic!

Here is a related poem featured in a film about verbal vs visual creativity: A poem in a movie inviting you to be who you are.

Learning To Let Go

January 1, 2012

Learning To Let Go

You’ve been learning to let go
Accepting things as they are
And your bliss is zooming forth

That Being inside of you
It’s so full; it’s so vibrant
You’re becoming who you are

To me you’re the lucky one
But others would not know it
They only see what they see

If it wasn’t for my muse
I’d have no reason to write
This—the soul of the matter

© Ken Chawkin
Talking with Sali, my friend and muse
Saturday, December 31, 2011
Finalized Sunday, January 1, 2012
Fairfield, Iowa, USA

A Haiku on The Heart of Haiku

December 18, 2011

This week I discovered and posted the Interview from FROGPOND with Jane Hirshfield on The Heart of Haiku. I had read Nine Gates: Entering the Mind of Poetry by Jane Hirshfield, a classic collection of essays about the mysterious ways poetry comes to us, and had thoroughly enjoyed it. So this first Kindle Single by Jane on haiku looked very enticing.

On Friday night, after reading a free sample of The Heart of Haiku, named “Best Kindle Single of 2011,” I decided to purchase this 29-page essay about the life and poetry of Matsuo Bashō, recognized as the master of concise, compelling Japanese haiku. I downloaded the free App from Amazon, then bought the $0.99 Kindle Single. It loaded instantly. I signed in, and started reading. It was that simple.

Saturday I took my computer with me when I went to visit my friend Sali. I explained what I had done, showed her what the essay looked like in the Kindle Cloud Reader on my computer, how it allowed me to select the look of the page, (I chose Sepia), change the size of the font and length of the lines, highlight and make notes. I continued reading, aloud to Sali, where I had left off at home. We were fascinated!

Bashō had discovered the earlier Chinese and Japanese poets, wrote renga, tanka, and haiku, became a poet and teacher, studied Zen and Taoism, indulged his senses, then lived like a monk roaming the countryside. We appreciated the beauty, simplicity and depth of his poetry, and the skill of Jane Hirshfield’s erudite explanations, herself a poet, teacher, and practitioner of Zen. It seemed appropriate for her to explain where Bashō was coming from. Hirshfield had collaborated with Mariko Aratani, her co-translator for the classical-era tanka poets in The Ink Dark Moon.

It was dinner time and the other residents were already eating their meal. An aide brought in Sali’s tray, but we were enjoying the story so much I just kept on reading and lost track of the time. I happened to mention that and realized I was speaking out what could easily become a haiku. Sali has that effect on me; she’s my muse! So here’s the haiku on reading The Heart of Haiku to Sali.

A Haiku on The Heart of Haiku

We forgot to eat
Reading The Heart of Haiku
It can fill you up

Also see the excellent Poetry Foundation biography on Jane Hirshfield, including poems, articles and more; Pirene’s Fountain: Jane Hirshfield on Poetic Craft; and What Rainer Maria Rilke inscribed on the copy of The Duino Elegies he gave his Polish translator. You can find some of my own haiku and tanka under My Poems.

— — —Save

Twelve years later I discovered Pebbles – Brief poems by Jane Hirshfield posted on March 6, 2023 by briefpoems. In this excellent post, the blogger mentions this Amazon Kindle single under the subheading of Matsuo Bashō and goes on to explain this about the title.

Jane Hirshfield was unhappy with the title: my title was Seeing Through Words: Matsuo Basho, an Introduction. I think that tells you quite a lot about how I see this piece: I would never myself have made such a grand claim for it as The Heart of Haiku does. 

You can read a pdf of the short book posted by The Haiku Foundation: Seeing Through Words: Matsuo Bashō.

Sweet Haiku for Sali

November 20, 2011

Sweet Haiku for Sali

Dancing eyes of light
A smile of pure delight
That’s my Sali gal

© Ken Chawkin
November 19, 2011
Fairfield, Iowa

See: Haiku For Sali, Hoku For SaliSally’s Smile (Haiku for Nurse Dan), and Haiku for Sali II and Haiku Muse.

Haiku for Sali II and Haiku Muse

November 20, 2011

Haiku for Sali II

Beautiful blue eyes
Soft silky silvery hair
Angel in disguise

Haiku Muse

The job of a Muse? —
Keeping her lover amused
Writing Poetry

© Ken Chawkin
Oct 8, 2011
Fairfield, Iowa

See: Haiku For Sali, Hoku For SaliSally’s Smile (Haiku for Nurse Dan), and Sweet Haiku for Sali.

Another Fall Haiku

November 6, 2011

Another Fall Haiku

The wind is blowing
Leaves on the ground are running
Winter is coming

*

Another Fall Haiku
(2nd version)

Cold winds are blowing
Fall leaves are running … running
Winter is coming

© Ken Chawkin
November 6, 2011
Fairfield, Iowa

See The Fall in Five Haiku and 13 Ways to Write Haiku: A Poet’s Dozen

— Written and compiled (citing sources) by Ken Chawkin for The Uncarved Blog.

Willow Tree Tanka II

October 3, 2011

It’s a long story, but some people drive on the front lawn, under and through the willow tree branches, to get to the next-door neighbor, something I wasn’t too happy about. One of the visitors complained about the long willowy branches getting in the way, which prompted the management to trim them back. Not something I cared to see happen. Sort of like getting a brushcut when you preferred keeping a pompador. Welcome to the Midwest!

Willow Tree Tanka II
(in reverse)

Why the Willow Tree complained
After its branches were cut

They say I’m too long
You can’t let your hair down here
So they cut me short

Ken Chawkin
Oct 3, 2011
Fairfield, Iowa

See the first poem: Willow Tree – a tanka – from a tree’s perspective.