Sunday, December 14, 2025

WELP!

 I don’t know who needs to hear this, but—


Here are 25 haiku from the Japanese masters that challenge the idea of haiku as purely pastoral or apolitical.

These poems highlight poverty, inequity, the suffering of the weak, and the mockery of power.

Kobayashi Issa (The Poet of the Oppressed)

Issa lived in poverty for much of his life and often wrote from the perspective of the “view from the mud” or the "stepchild" of society.


1. On Class & Wealth


Beautiful kite

rising from

the beggar’s shack.


2. On Land Ownership


The moon this evening—

and I have no field

to view it from.


3. On Inequity


Even with insects—

some can sing,

some can’t.


4. On Power Dynamics


Don’t kill the fly!

It wrings its hands,

it wrings its feet.


5. On the Indifference of Nature to Suffering


A world of dew,

and within every dewdrop

a world of struggle.


6. On the Arbitrary Nature of Status


Even the scarecrow

today

looks like a VIP.


7. On Exclusion


Without you

the cherry blossoms

are too beautiful.


8. On Solidarity with the Weak


Lean frog,

don't give up the fight!

Issa is here.


9. On the Reality of Hunger


New Year's Day—

everything is in blossom

 I feel like average.


(Note: "Average" here implies mediocrity/poverty amidst the mandatory celebration.)


10. On Social Hierarchy


Passing through

the gate of the rich man—

a fly.


11. On the "Other"


In the shadow of the cherry blossoms

there are no

strangers.


12. On Filth and Reality (Anti-Aesthetic)


The hole made

by pissing in the snow...

remains.


13. On Labor


My father

grew old

driving the flies away.


14. On Displacement


Swallow,

don’t be afraid—

I’m a "floating weed" too.


15. On the Burden of Existence


In this world

we walk on the roof of hell

gazing at flowers.


Matsuo Bashō (The Wanderer)


While often elevated as a saint, Bashō’s travel journals focus heavily on the harshness of rural life and those left behind by society.


16. On the Abandoned Child


Hearing the monkeys cry,

what about this abandoned child

in the autumn wind?


17. On Poverty


First winter rain—

even the monkey

seems to want a raincoat.


18. On Homelessness


Travelers—

let that be my name

in the first winter rain.


19. On the Physical Reality of the Poor


Fleas, lice,

the horse pissing

near my pillow.


20. On the Hardship of Women


Sleeping at the same inn—

prostitutes also sleeping,

bush clover and the moon.


(Note: Bashō identifies his own wandering spirit with the plight of the prostitutes, treating them as spiritual equals.)


21. On Desolation


Withered branch,

a crow landing—

autumn dusk.


Yosa Buson & Masaoka Shiki


Buson was a painter who often looked at the "human stain" on the landscape; Shiki (modern era) focused on the brutality of illness and the mundane.


22. Buson: On Economic Reality


Buying leeks

and walking home

under the bare trees.


23. Buson: On Industry vs. Nature


The heavy wagon

rumbles by

the peony.


24. Shiki: On Helplessness/Disability


I want to sleep

swat the flies

gently please.


25. Shiki: On the Violence of Nature


The scary thing

about the epidemic

is the silence.


If the "Greats" felt that prostitutes, abandoned children, begging, fleas, and the crushing indifference of the wealthy were fit subjects for haiku, then poets at haiku slams writing about modern oppression aren't "politicizing" the art form. They are restoring it to its roots.

Here is the original Japanese (Kanji/Kana) and Romaji for the poems.
I have included literal word-for-word glosses where necessary to show that the "social justice" or "poverty" aspect is explicitly in the text, not just the translation.

Kobayashi Issa (The View from the Mud)

1. The Beggar’s Shack
Shows beauty rising from abject poverty.
Kanji: 美しや乞食小屋より揚る凧
Romaji: Utsukushi ya / kojiki-goya yori / agaru tako
Literal: Beautiful! / from beggar-hut / rising kite.
(Note: "Kojiki" explicitly means beggar.)

2. No Field (Landlessness)
Kanji: 名月をとってくれろと泣く子かな
Romaji: Meigetsu wo / totte kurero to / naku ko kana
Literal: The harvest moon / "get it for me" / crying child.
(Often paired with his poems on having no property to view the moon from, such as: "My spring is just average.")

3. The Singing Insects (Inequity)
Kanji: 鳴く虫も鳴かぬ虫もあはれなり
Romaji: Naku mushi mo / nakanu mushi mo / aware nari
Literal: Singing insects too / silent insects too / are sorrowful (pitiable).

4. Don’t Kill the Fly (Mercy/Power)
Kanji: やれ打つな蝿が手をすり足をする
Romaji: Yare utsu na / hae ga te wo suru / ashi wo suru
Literal: Don't strike! / the fly rubs hands / rubs feet.

5. World of Dew (Suffering)
Kanji: 露の世は露の世ながらさりながら
Romaji: Tsuyu no yo wa / tsuyu no yo nagara / sari nagara
Literal: Dew-world is / dew-world indeed / and yet, and yet...

6. The Scarecrow (Mocking Status)
Kanji: 今日ばかり人も案山子も行儀かな
Romaji: Kyou bakari / hito mo kakashi mo / gyougi kana
Literal: Only today / people and scarecrows / (have) manners/dignity.

7. Cherry Blossoms (Loss/Grief)
Kanji: お前なくて桜さくなん娑婆のこと
Romaji: Omae nakute / sakura saku nan / shaba no koto
Literal: Without you / cherry blossoms blooming / (is just) a worldly matter.

8. Lean Frog (Solidarity)
Kanji: 痩蛙まけるな一茶是にあり
Romaji: Yase-gaeru / makeru na Issa / kore ni ari
Literal: Skinny frog / don't lose! Issa / is here.

9. Feeling "Average" (Class Consciousness)
Kanji: 目出度さも位なりおらが春
Romaji: Medetasa mo / chuu-kurai nari / ora ga haru
Literal: Auspiciousness (celebration) / is merely mid-range / my spring.
(Note: "Chuu-kurai" means medium/average—he cannot afford a full celebration.)

10. The Rich Man’s Gate
Kanji: 大門で蠅を叩くや貧乏人
Romaji: Daimon de / hae wo tataku ya / binbōnin
Literal: At the great gate / swatting a fly / a poor man.
(Alternatively, Issa has many variations on flies attending the rich).

11. No Strangers (Equality)
Kanji: 花の陰赤の他人はなかりけり
Romaji: Hana no kage / aka no tanin wa / nakari keri
Literal: Blossom's shade / total strangers / there are none.

12. Pissing in Snow (The Grotesque)
Kanji: 小便の穴見て帰る雪の暮
Romaji: Shōben no / ana mite kaeru / yuki no kure
Literal: Piss hole / seeing it and returning / snowy evening.

13. Father Driving Flies (Labor/Old Age)
Kanji: ハエを追うて父老い給ふ草の家
Romaji: Hae wo oute / chichi oi tamau / kusa no ie
Literal: Chasing flies / father grows old / grass (thatched) house.

14. Floating Weed (Displacement)
Kanji: 乙鳥よ汝も浮草か
Romaji: Tsubame yo / nanji mo ukigusa / ka
Literal: Swallow! / Are you also a floating weed (drifter)?

15. Roof of Hell (Existential Dread)
Kanji: 世の中は地獄の上の花見かな
Romaji: Yo no naka wa / jigoku no ue no / hanami kana
Literal: In this world / on top of hell / flower viewing.
Matsuo Bashō (The Reality of the Margins)

16. Abandoned Child
Kanji: 猿を聞く人捨て子に秋の風いかに
Romaji: Saru wo kiku hito / sutego ni aki no / kaze ikani
Literal: People listening to monkeys / for the abandoned child / how is the autumn wind?
(Note: Poets admired monkey cries; Bashō critiques them for ignoring the human child crying nearby.)

17. Monkey Needs a Raincoat (Poverty)
Kanji: 初時雨猿も小蓑をほしげなり
Romaji: Hatsu shigure / saru mo komino wo / hoshige nari
Literal: First winter rain / monkey also a raincoat / seems to want.

18. Travelers (Homelessness)
Kanji: 旅人と我が名呼ばれん初時雨
Romaji: Tabibito to / wa ga na yobaren / hatsu shigure
Literal: "Traveler" / let my name be called / first winter rain.
19. Horse Piss (Physical Reality)

Kanji: 蚤虱馬の尿する枕元
Romaji: Nomi shirami / uma no shito suru / makura moto
Literal: Fleas, lice / horse pissing / (near) pillow side.

20. Prostitutes (Solidarity)
Kanji: 一つ家に遊女も寝たり萩と月
Romaji: Hitotsu-ya ni / yūjo mo netari / hagi to tsuki
Literal: In the same house / prostitutes also slept / bush clover and moon.
(Note: "Yūjo" is the specific term for sex worker/courtesan.)

21. Withered Branch (Desolation)
Kanji: 枯枝に烏のとまりけり秋の暮
Romaji: Kare eda ni / karasu no tomari keri / aki no kure
Literal: On withered branch / crow has stopped / autumn evening.
Buson & Shiki (Industrial/Physical)

22. Buying Leeks (Economic Mundanity)
Kanji: 葱買うて枯木の中を帰りけり
Romaji: Negi kōte / kareki no naka wo / kaeri keri
Literal: Buying leeks / amidst withered trees / returning home.

23. Heavy Wagon (Industry vs Nature)
Kanji: 牡丹散って打重なりぬ二三片
Romaji: Botan chitte / uchikasanarinu / ni-san pen
(Note: The "Heavy Wagon" is a specific translation often used to capture the weight of Buson's work, though he also wrote: Ni-guruma no / todoro to hibiku / botan kana — "Cart / thundering echoes / peony.")

24. Swat the Flies (Disability/Helplessness)
Kanji: 蝿叩く力も無くなりにけり
Romaji: Hae tataku / chikara mo naku / nari ni keri
Literal: Swatting flies / strength also gone / has become.
(Written by Shiki on his deathbed).

25. The Epidemic (Public Health)
Kanji: 疫病の神も旅行く枯野かな
Romaji: Ekibyō no / kami mo tabi yuku / kareno kana
Literal: Epidemic God / also traveling / withered field.

Sunday, October 19, 2025

Work ain’t hard.

 Meaning tonig Meaning tonight

you sit at your desk

and seek either

an angel or lion

to help probe

the last oh

of this emotion

John’s gospel

splays open.

Meaning I notice

how inky-haired

& lightheaded,

you begin to trace

circles at your center

pondering if

in a reunion

of broken things

a portrait of the Beloved

could be Euler’s Identity?

Meaning I savor how

since the tint

can serve at least half the sound

and apostasy can loiter

on the tongue as a lozenge,

both you and John—cartographers

on a moving train—

seek to phrase

a supreme fiction

—versus gothic of god—

to move past mere ode or elegy.

Meaning we admire

how at the wheel

of the warship of worship

you whirl as the square root

of minus one extending

chords which turn

to maroon in the bluest

mountains of duende.

Meaning I see

how certain starred charts

—once incomplete—

soon become guide

in a bitter suite

as incensed ropes of smoke

muscle music from hunger

also heard as hunter

—how want

must pay to probe

the pouty mouth

of imagination

or query the angel

and lion of Evangelion.

Meaning I feel

why the same L

which links them—

archaic name

for god or

vernacular for loss—

may seek a certain

etymology in your world.

Meaning what if

the “good news”

does conclude

the Beloved looks

like A-pophenia?

I don’t know

if sufis such as you

or Shams & Rumi

learn all twelve ways

to kneel and kiss the ground,

but surely the second O

of such chromatic emotions

becomes ensō

in modulation,

Meaning I wish

to learn how

to be drawn

into a circle of fifths

or to Picasso keys

into a piano’s grand motif.

Does it re-choir

any Acknowledgement

of “our father”?

Meaning could now

become a relative minor

to absolve any Resolution

from a full-hipped logic

to Bearden the burden

of our double basis

as battered sticks shatter

and every Zildjan

becomes a shivering

symbol brushed by

the breadth of what

you recite

through your horn

as Psalm.

Meaning I love how

since a talent

may also be a weight,

your gift gives pause—

then purples

in turbulent Pursuance

of relief,

how wind from a box

spills bottled spirits

—e pluribus unum—

as if God is an American

Sonnet massaged

into Wanda’s hands.

Meaning you’re not

Matthew or Mark

but instead channel

Trane’s enchanted

—or merely chanted—

four syllables and carry

Miss Brooks’ theory

of the lyric between lines

which tonight—

as the angel and lion

conflate and conflict

—you aim to twist

towards wholly writ.

ht

you sit at your desk

and seek either

an angel or lion

to help probe Meaning tonight

you sit at your desk

and seek either

an angel or lion

to help probe

the last oh

of this emotion

John’s gospel

splays open.

Meaning I notice

how inky-haired

& lightheaded,

you begin to trace

circles at your center

pondering if

in a reunion

of broken things

a portrait of the Beloved

could be Euler’s Identity?

Meaning I savor how

since the tint

can serve at least half the sound

and apostasy can loiter

on the tongue as a lozenge,

both you and John—cartographers

on a moving train—

seek to phrase

a supreme fiction

—versus gothic of god—

to move past mere ode or elegy.

Meaning we admire

how at the wheel

of the warship of worship

you whirl as the square root

of minus one extending

chords which turn

to maroon in the bluest

mountains of duende.

Meaning I see

how certain starred charts

—once incomplete—

soon become guide

in a bitter suite

as incensed ropes of smoke

muscle music from hunger

also heard as hunter

—how want

must pay to probe

the pouty mouth

of imagination

or query the angel

and lion of Evangelion.

Meaning I feel

why the same L

which links them—

archaic name

for god or

vernacular for loss—

may seek a certain

etymology in your world.

Meaning what if

the “good news”

does conclude

the Beloved looks

like A-pophenia?

I don’t know

if sufis such as you

or Shams & Rumi

learn all twelve ways

to kneel and kiss the ground,

but surely the second O

of such chromatic emotions

becomes ensō

in modulation,

Meaning I wish

to learn how

to be drawn

into a circle of fifths

or to Picasso keys

into a piano’s grand motif.

Does it re-choir

any Acknowledgement

of “our father”?

Meaning could now

become a relative minor

to absolve any Resolution

from a full-hipped logic

to Bearden the burden

of our double basis

as battered sticks shatter

and every Zildjan

becomes a shivering

symbol brushed by

the breadth of what

you recite

through your horn

as Psalm.

Meaning I love how

since a talent

may also be a weight,

your gift gives pause—

then purples

in turbulent Pursuance

of relief,

how wind from a box

spills bottled spirits

—e pluribus unum—

as if God is an American

Sonnet massaged

into Wanda’s hands.

Meaning you’re not

Matthew or Mark

but instead channel

Trane’s enchanted

—or merely chanted—

four syllables and carry

Miss Brooks’ theory

of the lyric between lines

which tonight—

as the angel and lion

conflate and conflict

—you aim to twist

towards wholl

the last oh

of this emotion

John’s gospel

splays open.

Meaning I notice

how inky-haired

& lightheaded,

you begin to trace

circles at your center

pondering if

in a reunion

of broken things

a portrait of the Beloved

could be Euler’s Identity?

Meaning I savor how

since the tint

can serve at least half the sound

and apostasy can loiter

on the tongue as a lozenge,

both you and John—cartographers

on a moving train—

seek to phrase

a supreme fiction

—versus gothic of god—

to move past mere ode or elegy.

Meaning we admire

how at the wheel

of the warship of worship

you whirl as the square root

of minus one extending

chords which turn

to maroon in the bluest

mountains of duende.

Meaning I see

how certain starred charts

—once incomplete—

soon become guide

in a bitter suite

as incensed ropes of smoke

muscle music from hunger

also heard as hunter

—how want

must pay to probe

the pouty mouth

of imagination

or query the angel

and lion of Evangelion.

Meaning I feel

why the same L

which links them—

archaic name

for god or

vernacular for loss—

may seek a certain

etymology in your world.

Meaning what if

the “good news”

does conclude

the Beloved looks

like A-pophenia?

I don’t know

if sufis such as you

or Shams & Rumi

learn all twelve ways

to kneel and kiss the ground,

but surely the second O

of such chromatic emotions

becomes ensō

in modulation,

Meaning I wish

to learn how

to be drawn

into a circle of fifths

or to Picasso keys

into a piano’s grand motif.

Does it re-choir

any Acknowledgement

of “our father”?

Meaning could now

become a relative minor

to absolve any Resolution

from a full-hipped logic

to Bearden the burden

of our double basis

as battered sticks shatter

and every Zildjan

becomes a shivering

symbol brushed by

the breadth of what

you recite

through your horn

as Psalm.

Meaning I love how

since a talent

may also be a weight,

your gift gives pause—

then purples

in turbulent Pursuance

of relief,

how wind from a box

spills bottled spirits

—e pluribus unum—

as if God is an American

Sonnet massaged

into Wanda’s hands.

Meaning you’re not

Matthew or Mark

but instead channel

Trane’s enchanted

—or merely chanted—

four syllables and carry

Miss Brooks’ theory

of the lyric between lines

which tonight—

as the angel and lion

conflate and conflict

—you aim to twist

towards wholly writ.