On the Impossible Occasion When Venerable Matsuo Bashō Composed Hokku for Anne Sexton in 1969 Massachusetts
On the Impossible Occasion When Venerable Matsuo Bashō Composed Hokku for Anne Sexton in 1969 Massachusetts
Various lovers appear in
snow angels today
this is your day
sweet plum escape
awaits the bite
your mouth’s juices make
sweet tea for two
In year sixty nine
Matsuo Bashō poured these
haiku, Anne Sexton said,
sometimes I am a whale
at Sea World that sinks to
smother herself at the bottom,
her blood gases poison,
rolling over and over—
it is when I see my children
the family is shining,
it is television eating
us and our eyes are
so blue reflecting the
flags lowered with
with closing of the day.
The whale, taking
into consideration she
is about to die, has a choice
to surface, hears a storm—
her nerves are trembling.
In her blowhole, the click
tick-tock, click tick-tock
of spiny bones she thumbs
like a rolodex, a congregation
of fish epipleuralia—
a restlessness of breath in a
pocket with preacher’s sermons
stuffed inside of her—
but—a storm above!—
above the water
is it the happy trainer?
waiting with the fish?
he with the plum wine?
to drench the deep branches?
dredge minds to vacancy?
Oh Matsuo, my self’s self,
I am not happy with myself—
keep pouring these teas
into my limbs! —I suffer
to know what else to do,
I hurt to know how else to help,
my friends, I don’t lie! Since
when have I lied? I could lie if
I wanted but I am honest
at all times, I don’t lie! From
the removal of my blouse,
to the unzipping of my dress,
my skin is cream now
Matsuo Bashō you know
virgin as the plow
from field’s first summer
when there is no rainfall come
blossoms barely peek.
I will kiss you open
on both the knees,
my moths twin lips
old boy when there is
opportunity—we
are poets Bashō.
I cannot eat of Anne, live of her,
thrive of her, read of her,
I need a sensible companion,
and find no one in this world
to walk with—the globe
is a distracted yawn of yahoos
returning by blood, by metal,
by hard-hats to bedrooms
in New England towns.
I’ve looked for God, Matsuo,
how about you? How plumed,
ugly thistle-ogres appeared
to the poor, but I didn’t hear Him.
It seemed a terrific idea to stay
here for a time. I hold so tightly
to Him, but I’m not sure I hear
anything at all.
I crave safari on tsunami
when you are weary of Kyoto
and the shriveled wings
of the crows
saluting one million rebirths
from your chest on the mountain,
come to me.
19 thoughts on "On the Impossible Occasion When Venerable Matsuo Bashō Composed Hokku for Anne Sexton in 1969 Massachusetts "
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amazing.
kind of you to say
And another ?!
Dang !
Again I’m digging this from you.
It rolls out so well in this shape.
Thanks for what you do.
It all happens in late night brainstorming sessions with Linda. What would happen if so and so and thus and such met?
I’ll echo the amazing, so many delightful and deep twists and turns. I love “I will kiss you open / on both the knees, / my moths twin lips / old boy when there is /opportunity.” Keep running with these!
Thanks Bill! This one look some doing. Took digging in Anne’s private letters.
The pairing of Anne Sexton and Basho is an unexpected — but perfect — match. Even though her suicide is in the poem, she’s totally alive and viral, just I would imagine her to be in real life. There are several turns or mini turns in the poem but for me the central turn is–“oh, Matsuo, my self’s self, I’m not happy with myself”–
You would absolutely love reading her letters Linda. Anne Sexton: A Self-Portrait in Letters is the book curated by her sole child Linda. Mercurial. Confessional – just like her work. Unabashedly in the face of who she’s writing to, whether making love to them, or telling them off. She was a lot like someone you talk to on Facebook nearly every morning.
we need to hook up another literary match
from conception
to image
your poems
are Fable-lush
that word Fable-lush is lovely
You capture the essence of these folks in an extraordinary way. I loved this image:
“it is television eating
us and our eyes are
so blue reflecting the
flags lowered with
with closing of the day.”
thank you sir
Yes I love these meetings of poetry gods and they way they unspool in scrolls of parchment…
thank you sir
This reads like a lucid dream, making me almost worried I can’t keep with the pace and then so rewarded by where it takes me.
Anne was my “one” who made me fall in love with poetry. I must look up the book of her letters. Thank you.
thank you Austen, and Anne Sexton is my favorite one of the mid late 20th century poets by far, biggest inspiration. that book is sheer gold. thank you. her complete works costs a mere something like 15 dollars from the same publisher. everything she wrote.
The poems posted today and yesterday feel a bit different from what you usually write. I love them both. I get so drawn into the storytelling and the conversation at hand. So deep and meaningful, in a way that makes you reflect about life in a different way.
Wow! Worlds/words colliding.