In which ChatGpt Analyses my poetry.

Crossposted from my commentary blog.

Welcome back to the end of week nine to returning readers, and a 初めましてどうぞよろしく(pleased to meet you) to any new readers. For something a little different, this week’s poetry analysis is completed by AI.

The nuts and bolts

This week’s haiku were mostly short-long-short arrangements with only one long-long-short. Over half began with noun phrases, but there were two prepositional phrases, which was a bit unusual. Th syllable length was an average of 14 and the range was 6.

The Poems (critqued by AI)

The following poems were critiqued by Chat GPT. It did require a bit of training around definitions of terms, but in the main, the following is its work(If that’s the right word?)

long summer days

caught between cicada thrum

and tinnitus

This haiku effectively captures the sense of being caught between two contrasting sounds – the natural thrum of cicadas and the internal ringing of tinnitus. Using “long summer days” as the opening line creates a sense of time and place, and the juxtaposition of natural and internal sounds creates a sense of contrast and tension.

The haiku effectively captures a sense of impermanence and transience with its focus on the passing of time and the contrast of natural and internal sounds. The sense of contrast and tension could also be seen as embodying the principles of karumi and muga.

first autumn dusk

in the weathered pepper tree

not even a feather

The haiku above uses sensory imagery to evoke a sense of quiet and stillness, with the weathered pepper tree serving as a powerful symbol of ageing and impermanence. The final line, “not even a feather,” emphasises the sense of stillness and adds a touch of melancholy.

I think it also contains an allusion to Basho’s famous crow poem, which reads: “On a withered branch / A crow has alighted / Nightfall in autumn.” Basho’s crow poem is a classic example of haiku that uses natural imagery to evoke a sense of transience and impermanence, and it has been widely studied and imitated by subsequent generations of haiku poets.

In the haiku “first autumn dusk,” the reference to the “weathered pepper tree” and the absence of a feather could be seen as a nod to Basho’s crow poem, which also uses a withered branch as a symbol of ageing and transience. By alluding to Basho’s poem, the author of the haiku is invoking a tradition of haiku that emphasises the beauty and impermanence of nature, while also adding their own unique perspective and voice to the form.

The haiku effectively captures a sense of impermanence and transience, with the focus on the passing of seasons and the ageing of the pepper tree. The sense of stillness and melancholy could also be seen as embodying the principles of wabi-sabi and muga.

autumn cool

a snake seeks the warmth

of the house

Autumn cool effectively captures the sense of animals seeking shelter and warmth during the colder autumn months. The use of sensory imagery, particularly the contrast between the coolness of autumn and the warmth of the house, creates a strong image.

The haiku captures a sense of impermanence and transience with its focus on the changing seasons and the movement of animals. The sense of contrast and balance could also be seen as embodying the principles of wabi-sabi and makoto.

over tea

we list a litany

of ailments

This haiku uses sensory imagery to evoke a sense of shared experience, with the act of listing ailments over tea serving as a symbol of intimacy and vulnerability. The brevity and simplicity of the haiku adds to its impact, creating a sense of immediacy and familiarity.

The haiku has a sense of simplicity and naturalness, with its focus on a shared experience and the act of listing ailments. The sense of intimacy and vulnerability could also be seen as embodying the principle of muga.

before the tide turns

beach stones reflected

in the bay

This haiku effectively captures the sense of transience and change, with the focus on the shifting tides and the reflection of stones in the bay. The use of sensory imagery creates a strong image, and the sense of movement and change creates a feeling of impermanence.

 The haiku effectively captures a sense of impermanence and transience, with its focus on the shifting tides and the reflection of stones. The sense of movement and change could[Chat GPT stopped mid sentence here] be seeen as embodying the principle of Wabi-Sabi.

clamour

around an abandoned piano

loitering minors

This haiku uses sensory imagery to evoke a sense of abandonment and dissonance, with the image of the abandoned piano and the unattended minors adding a touch of melancholy. The use of “clamour” in the first line creates a sense of chaos and noise, emphasizing the sense of discord. [There’s also a play on words ie minor=minor key]

The haiku effectively captures a sense of impermanence and transience, with its focus on the abandoned piano and the unattended minors. The sense of chaos and discord could also be seen as embodying the principles of wabi-sabi and muga.

awoken

the lingering echo

of the rooster’s crow

This haiku uses sensory imagery to evoke a sense of awakening, with the lingering echo of the rooster’s crow providing a clear and vivid image. The brevity of the haiku adds to its impact, creating a sense of immediacy and intimacy.

The haiku has a sense of simplicity and naturalness, with its focus on a natural sound and the act of awakening. The brevity and immediacy of the haiku could also be seen as embodying the principle of karumi.

Final thoughts?

Writing this week went reasonably well. Visitors and work put me under pressure, but I didn’t feel as wrung out as last week. Playing around with ChatGPT is fun and a little scary. It does a passible job of broad criticism,but you’ll notice the repetition and the lack of specificity around the Japanese stylistic terms.

So

That’s it for the week.

Til next time,

じゃあまた (See you later)

Connecting to Culture

Crossposted from my Substack.

Welcome back to the end of week eight to returning readers, and a 初めましてどうぞよろしく(pleased to meet you) to any new readers.

This week, there was a concerted effort to attempt to exploit the vertical axis (ie to tap into a wider cultural context). Some of that attempted intertexuality will be more apparent in some haiku than others. I also managed to listen to an episode on euphony in Haiku, over at the Poetry Pea. It’s nothing that I haven’t heard before or indeed practiced, but the act of listening brought euphony to front of mind. 

Structure and Stats

This week’s haiku, were characterised by the short-long-short form, the average syllable count was just under 13.5 and the range 5. The phrases were predominently noun phrases, although one featured a prepositional phrase which I haven’t produced in a while. Similar to last week there was a long-long-short line arrangement and a short-short-long.

The Poems

beyond my power

the installer reschedules

at days end

As I mentioned above, this week I was trying to tap into broader cultural context. Haiku has a strong connection with Zen and so I was looking at similar philosophical thoughts when I paraphrased Epictetus above. The Stoic concept that Epictetus teaches is, that are somethings within our power, up to us, that are our proper function(chiefly only our judgements, opinions, motivations and desires) and in this case the installer turning up when he said he would is not one of them. 

I think that the phrase works logically, students of stoicism will get it and I think your average Jo will too. The only thing that I feel works against the composition here is that there’s a slight mismatch with the diction in “beyond my power” and the rest of the piece. 

seeing, not seeing

the dented tailgate

the faded spark

Here I was working with a bit of parallel structure – the repetition of seeing in the first line and leading with two definite articles in lines 2 and 3. Although, I was not really attempting a conection to a wider context, there might be some reader identified intertexuality in the seeing, not seeing.  It has some echos of buddhist thought perhaps. It is a largely fictional haiku about seeing but not percieving. I’d walked past my truck for two days withought noticing the two foot long dent I’d put in the tailgate. I then was searching for some heavier emotional content and settled on breakdowns in human interraction. Not percieving when emotional connections have faded. Out of all of the haiku this week, this one feels the most contrived.

lone call,

still, on a low fence wire

a bird I can’t name

after Soft Rains May Come

Back to the cultral connection and one of my favourite Sara Teasdale poems.  On a low fence wire is one of her lines and the feeling generated in the quiet of the morning when I heard a clear bird call, had me in mind of her poem Soft Rains May Come (which I encourage you to read via the link). In terms of euphony, this Haiku has a nice L sound in call, still and low. I think the sound lulls the reader a bit. It’s a quiet, reflective poem, and the euphony supports/co-creates this intention.

the stray kitten

pausing to strike a pose

Maneki Neko

Another attempt at cultural connection. Maneki Neko or the beckoning cat, is amoung other things a symbol of good luck. The pun here of course is that the stray cat is beckoning offering good luck, when indeed it’s the stray who will be lucky when he gets fed for being so cute. The repeated plosive P’s combined with the repeated K sounds seem to slow this poem down for me. I think it works for the subject matter.

casualty

after the heatwave

I check my bonsai

Yet another summer Haiku. I don’t think I have mentioned heatwave in the nearly 60 haiku I have written this year. We did have our first extreme heatwave this week though. I was employing a bit of meaning misdirection here. Hoping that the reader is lead toward a more human catastrophy than this poem ends up being. Although, If I lose another tree I will be most put out.

morning haze

I clean my glasses

and it clears

This poem was in relation to a prompt by Mark S over at Naturalist Weekly, which is well worth a look. The obvious interpretation of this haiku is that the haze is in fact dirt on the glasses, but cleaning my glasses is a morning ritual – part of clearing the head haze if you will. In terms of its euphony I like the z sound of haze and clears. Theres also some repeated cl and gl sounds that work well together.

stormwater

cutting a new stream

in the sand

It rained, thank the gods, on Saturday. I was tailwalker at my local parkrun and the stormwater drains were releasing a good flow of clear water down onto the beach sand, cutting and carving. So this is a shasei, but it was also the day that I listened to the poetry pea podcast on euphony. So river became stream and winding became cutting. I think the s sounds in stormwaterstream, and sand, help tie this one together.

Reflections on the project

I have written my 57th haiku ready for Monday, and apart from midweek when I was extremely tired, I haven’t felt that put upon. I haven’t been questioning my sanity (not with haiku at least). I did have a run of good luck yesterday after parkrun where two haiku just seemed to pop out of nowhere. Sometimes I think I just need to give myself some space.

So 

That’s it for the week.

Til next time,

じゃあまた (See you later)

Grasping the Vertical Axis

Cross-posted from my Substack

Welcome back to the end of week seven to returning readers, and a 初めましてどうぞよろしく(pleased to meet you) to any new readers.

This, of course, was the second whole week of my teaching senior students how to write haiku; next week, we will move on to Haibun. So, I have been able to write and work at the same time. I even managed to slip in a ginko walk with them.

I made no further progress in compiling an essay on my thoughts about kigo in English Language Haiku. Still, I did stumble upon another good episode of the Poetry Pea Podcast. In this episode host Patricia talks with Joshua Gage, another poet and teacher of haiku who has incorporated some of the lessons from Dr Shirane’s book around vertical and horizontal axes in haiku. It’s great when folks seem to be just a little ahead of you on the same road. Needless to say, Gage had some great ideas for how to use a number of prompts to explore the vertical axis in ELH.

Having listened to both Sean O’Connor and Gage, on the issue of emotional content and allusion in ELH, it occured to me that I started using allusion in Haiku at the same time I was reading heavily for my long form poetry projects. One of the Haiku that appears in my debut collection is as follows:

blistered hand

I dig with my pen instead

– after Digging

Source: Magpie Tales ©️sbwright2017

I’d always detected a bit of a divide between “Haiku” and “Literary” poets. In its worse form you have strict rule following“Haiku” poets who take haiku too seriously (and to the detriment of the poetry) and on the other extreme there were “real” poets who looked down their noses at people practising solely the haiku form and dismissed haiku as shallow or easy. 

Thankfully though, there’s been enough poets who take the form seriously, take the time to understand its original cultural context, and who see themselves not just as Haiku poets, but as poets existing within a larger poetic culture.

I think if you want to be good at writing Haiku you need to be devloping other poetic skills, and connecting to not just nature but culture. Anyway, that’s enough of a sermon.

Technical Bits

All the haiku were written in phrase fragment fashion and in that order. All the phases were, bar one, noun phrases. The haiku were predominently short, long, short in presentation with some variation – again one long, long, short haiku and one short, long, long. The avarage syllable length was 13.8 with a range of 7.

The Poems

wagtail chatter

the teens fall silent

in the shade

A result of my ginko walk with students. I wanted to contrast the wagtails chatter with the unusual silence of the teens. I think it works well as sketch from life (the particular haiku guide we were following that day). I also think that the alveolar double t in chatter is the perfect sound for wagtails, and that also contrasts well with the soft s and sh sounds.

noise cancelling earbuds

I hear nothing but the beat

of my heart

I bought some very good, and not so pricey Panasonic noise cancelling earbuds. The link to the heart and the haiku being posted on Valentine’s day was pure chance. It terms of sound quality of the lines. I like the line rythm and the repeated b sound. 

scorcher

one prayer and two full buckets

on the Japanese maple

How does one keep nature references fresh. Plumbing the depths of the Australin vernacular, that’s how. This one was a bit cheeky, which fits with the attempt to quote Austrlianisms without going the full strine. Neither the buckets nor the prayer worked. The maple is burnt.

inescapable heat

a gum branch tears itself away

from the trunk

Are you getting an idea that it might be hot? Again trying to remain fresh with the nature reference, I was able to turn the event of our gum dropping a large branch, into a haiku. The choice of the word tear was very deliberate. I wanted to contrast the sense of being trapped by the heat with the tree’s action of literally tearing itself apart for some relief

rough summer gust

the wind has forgotten

how to sing

after The Aim Was Song

Similar to last week’s ( I think it was last week) sunk to grief, I attempted here to grasp the vertical axis with reference to Frost’s, The Aim Was Song. I like the subtle chiming of rough/gust and wind/sing here. The phrase is rough in sound and meaning contrasted with the the opposite in the fragment. This is a personal favourite of mine as is the next.

withered mallee

passing, all its leaves

take flight

One of those scenes that I have witnessed hundreads of times before. Driving home the starlings often roost in the dead Mallee gums on the side of the road. It just so happened that as we passed, the entire flock took off, and until that point it simply looked like a tree with dark leaves. The lines took a little shifting about to get right. I attempted a half misdirection of meaning with passing and its comma. There’s a moment when the reader associates the passing with withered (death perhaps) before it becomes apparent the poet is the one passing.

forty plus

the paint and I

dry too fast

Forty plus or 104 °F + is hot(although we have got to 123°F), and I don’t know that I have seen temperature used as a first line (it undoubtedly has been), but I think this particular phrasing has a certain Australian phrasing to it. No vertical linkage, just a nice sketch from life to finish the week off. I also think it’s my weakest of the week.

Thoughts

It did feel a bit easier this week, but that could have been becasue I was feeling better, ie less of a physical struggle. I am encouraged that I am finding some solid material from the Poetry Pea Podcast that seems to be providing enough thoughtful matter to chew on, that I don’t seem to be flailing around in boredom and just phoning it in. 

That’s it for the week.

Til next time,

じゃあまた (See you later)

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