Global Haiku Tradition
Millikin University, Spring 2004

Katie Steimann
on

The Darkness and the Light:
Bob Boldman's Haiku


Katie Steimann

Katie's Haiku

 

 

When searching for an author to explore and research more intensely for this essay, I was struck with Bob Boldman’s haiku. His haiku resonate not only with me, but with many readers, because of their spiritual and often dark subject matter. Boldman was raised in a rural area near Dayton, Ohio, and continues to live in the state today. He studied fine arts at Wright State University and as noted in his chapbook published in 1980 by High/Coo Press, Walking With the River, has worked towards a degree in respiratory therapy. He learned through the study and practice of Zen the importance of meditation. However, he does not necessarily believe that you must be still to meditate. “He believes it is more important to practice meditation in action…a meditation that is consistent with any place or endeavor.” It was through Zen that he began to write haiku. Haiku in and of itself falls under the category of meditation in action.

Boldman approaches his writing of haiku with both typical and atypical techniques. Most of his haiku are all under-case, which is a technique used by many haiku authors. The things that are particularly his, or are techniques that are used by a smaller minority of haiku authors are his techniques of spacing, minimalism and word placement. Boldman shapes his haiku with great attention to subject matter, allowing the text to chose its shape on the page.

leaves blowing into a sentence

(The Haiku Anthology, 13)

Perhaps his most famous haiku, this one, taken from The Haiku Anthology, exhibits itself as a one-liner. The reader must be experienced with haiku to know when the appropriate breaks should be taken for the full affect of the words.

Along with his experiments with spacing, minimalism and word placement, Boldman is intrigued by the fragility and the wonder of human life. A very religious man, Boldman’s haiku often reflect his religious beliefs as well as his every day experiences. Not only is he the sole author or a part of four haiku collections: Eating a Melon (1981), My Lord’s Necklace (1980), Walking with the River (1980), and The Haiku Anthology (1999), but he has also published two non-fiction books relating to spirituality and death: The Alchemy of Love: The Pilgrimage of Sacred Discovery (1997), and Sacred Life, Holy Death: Seven Stages of Crossing the Divide (1999).

in the temple
a
heartbeat

(The Haiku Anthology, 14)

This haiku is an example of Boldman’s intense emphasis on spirituality and of the technique called minimalism. It is short at just seven syllables. In those few words it presents not only the image of what I see as a man in a temple, but also a feeling of extreme reverence, silence and piety. He feels singled out, alone and insignificant. His heart reverberates in his ears as he prays. The fact that there is just one heartbeat in the entirety of the temple makes the haiku more unique and potent.

Boldman displays an amazing ability to give power to a small sentiment, which in turn evokes a sense of the larger picture. What has brought this person to the temple? What is he thinking? What is going on outside the temple at this moment that he has escaped at this place of worship? The haiku makes you question the reason, while providing satisfaction with a solemn voice. In the dim light of the temple, there is a brighter one, the light of the heartbeat of the believer.

drinking the sky
I’m
emptied

(Walking with the river, 2)

One of the strongest components of Boldman’s writing is his ability to sum up our feelings of separation and our insignificance in the face of the wonders of the world. This feeling is universal. Though we do not all find it in the same way or realize it from experiencing the same events, we all have felt small in the world at some point in our lives. How many times have you looked up at the sky and felt like a tiny ant on the sidewalk? In this haiku moment, the person looks up to the heavens and feels empty yet complete at the same time. They realize their limited time here on earth, yet they are relieved of their thoughts and are at peace in the moment. They have nothing to think about, but the blue of the sky above.

“forgiveness” drones
the perishing
winter flies

(unpublished manuscript)

This haiku emphasizes again the quick fleeting of life. An immediate image is presented in this haiku that impacts the reader before they interpret its meaning. This person is in confession, the priest is mumbling through the screen, but all the person can see are the dead and dying flies on the rim of the window between the boxes. After rereading Boldman’s words I was able to process. As the person’s sins are forgiven and erased, the flies are dying and dropping just as the sins are discarded. Most Christian denominations believe that part of your life “perishes” when you admit your mistakes and choose piety. The fact that the haiku is set in winter also adds to the solemnity of the mood. With death comes new life for the sinner, but it still carries a reminder of the past.

new year’s eve:
searching the cemetery for the grave
i want to sleep in

(unpublished manuscript)

Along with the theme of insignificance, Boldman favors a dark mood and presents haiku that while reflective, are often depressing. This quality makes his haiku unusual. Many authors will write the occasional somber haiku, but Boldman makes it a common practice. When he writes one that is upbeat and joyous, it stands out. This New Year’s haiku makes the thought of the next year daunting. The man in the scene most definitely doesn’t want to face what it might bring and is searching the tombstones for a place that he might figuratively lay. He wants to avoid the future by dying. The comfort that can be drawn from this moment is that it will pass and life will go on, but Boldman will not allow the reader to forget that along with the good in life, there is always bad. Without the down times, the good times would not look nearly as promising.

Here is a haiku in which Boldman departs from his typical darkness and breaks character:

a fin
grazing on restless stars

(The Haiku Anthology, 15)

The haiku stirs the emotion of restlessness, but I don’t see it as a negative reflection. There is beauty here in the fin of the fish touching the surface of the water, “grazing on restless stars.” What an amazing experience to realize the glory of this moment. The haiku is ambiguous in that the reader can interpret the restlessness for themselves. The person observing could be restless because they want to go out and have a good time, because they feel trapped, or because they want to see someone that they love. Perhaps the restlessness is in reference to the stars because some are falling, or their brightness is so intense in the sky and the water that the ripples caused by the fish make them restless; a perfect image in my mind.

Below is a haiku comparison between Boldman and another famous haiku artist, Raymond Roseliep. In these haiku, they both explore a similar subject matter.

a firefly
on the web
lit

(Bob Boldman, Walking with the river, 18)

firefly
zipped
in the sleeping bag

(Raymond Roseliep, Bill Pauly workshop handout)

These haiku have in common the firefly, its light and the observation of its helplessness to the will of the spider, or to the person who finds the bug in the sleeping bag. The imagery in both of these haiku is exact and evocative. Each gives a clear picture of the firefly and its brightness against the black night or the closed out light.

The words used in both haiku cause the reader to associate sound with the experience. In Boldman’s haiku the word “lit” paints the picture of the light of the firefly coming on suddenly. It also makes one think of sort of a popping sound that occurs when a light-switch is flipped. In Roseliep’s haiku the word “zipped” is both seen as the action of zipping, and heard by the reader as if they were doing the act themselves. It adds to the frantic flight of the firefly within the bag as it zips around.

I find it hard to choose the haiku that I prefer because I feel both are very well written, paint a good picture and use the language to the utmost advantage. When pressed however, I would probably lean towards Boldman’s haiku because I sense a stronger emotion from it. The firefly is going to die. Its light will not shine much longer. There is a strong feeling of futility, inevitability and sadness that jumps off the page.

Though Boldman’s intense focus on the hardships and sadness of life may scare away some readers, each haiku in and of itself offers some kind of hidden hope. Look at this haiku:

at the funeral
the wild irises already open
to life after death

(unpublished manuscript)

Though the scene is a funeral, it seems that Boldman wants to reassure us. The irises surrounding the grave are already open, signifying not only the life of spring and opening flowers, but the new lives the people at the funeral will experience now that the person has passed. If you believe in reincarnation, they could also signify the new life the spirit of the person who has died will find in a new body back on earth. Boldman reminds us that this is just a moment, an instant. There are millions, billions, trillions of things that we experience in life. Life is bittersweet, but we should live it while we have time and live it well. Boldman ensures that we hold the good things a little dearer and nearer to our hearts.


©2003 Randy Brooks, Millikin University, Decatur, Illinois || all rights reserved for original authors