Nature’s AC [Haiku]

Photograph of a small cascade between and around mossy rocks taken on the Kolsay Lake hike in Kazakhstan.
water rolls past
moss green rocks;
hikers pause in cool.

Tree Hell [Tanka]

pine cone wedged
in a rotten sleeper,
on derelict tracks,
may become a tree
and made into sleepers.

BOOK: “Lonesome Cities” by Rod McKuen

LONESOME CITIES LTD EDITLONESOME CITIES LTD EDIT by Rod McKuen
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

Google Books Page

Rod McKuen is the posterchild for poets who were loathed and brutalized by critics, yet who had massive popular followings. He is the Minecraft Movie of poets. McKuen was also a songwriter and recording artist. Poet and lyricist seem almost identical career fields (one makes money for being a simplified version of the other [the poor] one,) but I suspect in their differences one finds a big chunk of the resolution to the aforementioned disparity. At the end of this collection is a chapter entitled “13 Songs” that contains a baker’s dozen of poems that are pop lyric-esque. Until I got to these, I thought McKuen may have been getting an unfair wrap for being schmaltzy and pedestrian, but when I got to them, I could see the truth in the criticism.

This is not to say McKuen would have been as harshly judged today as he was in 1968 when this book came out. He was a bisexual man who is most famous for writing “Seasons in the Sun” (an unambiguously schmaltzy song made popular by Terry Jacks in a much more up-tempo version,) and in an era in which academics were “total squares.”

At any rate, this collection, which is largely organized by city, is a fun read.

View all my reviews

Prickly Pear [Haiku]

prickly pears bloom: 
yellow offering bowls —
bees give & take.

Vanishing [Haiku]

Photograph of a streambed and cloudy mountains take on the Annapurna Sactuary Trek in Nepal.
moving up valley,
fog thickens until there
is only the step.

Mountain Blue [Haiku]

Photograph of blue skies over a small roadside stop in the Andes between Cuzco and Puno.
mountain skies:
fade to a blue so deep
it chills the bones.

This Is Not My World [Free Verse]

Photograph taken on Siquijor Island of the Philippines at sunset as low clouds reflected on the Bohol Sea.
Every once in a while,
you see a sight
that makes you say,

"This cannot be
the world I know!"

Monster Toes [Free Verse]

Photograph of a thorny tree taken in the Gardens by the Bay in Singapore.
tree trunk studded by thorns
that look like
mean monster toenails
with gnarly green cuticles,

even tree-huggers stay at
arm’s length.

Wake [Haiku]

Photograph of the Danube River as it flows through Bratislava, Slovakia.
boat chugs upriver,
slipping from sight, but for
its wake's arrow.

BOOK: “Angel at the Earth’s Extremes” by Chūya Nakahara [trans. & ed. by Jeffrey Angles]

Angel at the Earth's Extreme: Collected PoemsAngel at the Earth’s Extreme: Collected Poems by Nakahara Chuya
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

Publisher Site — Penguin Classics

Release date: August 4, 2026

Chūya Nakahara was a Japanese poet who lived in the early twentieth century and who wrote in both classic Japanese forms (notably Tanka) as well a modern Western-influenced styles, particularly from the French avant-garde movement — e.g. Dadaism. Though he lived only to the age of thirty, Chūya left a substantial body of poems. He only published one collection during his lifetime, and had edited a second that came out posthumously, but the volume under review includes many previously uncollected poems as well.)

While only the Tanka poems early in the book are of classical Japanese form, Japanese literary influence shows up throughout, such as via seasonality. I took particular note of a focus on Autumn, followed [not chronologically, but in terms of volume,] by Winter, which may give insight into the tone of the volume. Of course, I didn’t count season words, so it might be a reflection of what resonated in my reading. But there is also a certain haiku-esque feel that appears in the author’s descriptions and juxtapositionings.

I enjoyed the language of these poems, particularly in description of sensory experience, which I presume owes both to Chūya and to the translator, Jeffrey Angles. Some examples include: “moonlight makes no sound // as it pools on the grass…”; “Rustling like rice husks, // Rough and dry as a loofa“; “dark against the night sky, // fig leaves stir in the wind // through the gaps, sky appears // –a beautiful woman // missing her front tooth, // standing gracefully // under the nighttime sky.

I’d highly recommend this book for poetry readers.

View all my reviews