I don’t know how to talk about what poetry is, except to talk about the experience. It’s good to have your hand on the rudder, and know when the current is moving powerfully. One thing I’ve enjoyed noticing is that both classical Zen haiku and my favorite American music have at least one little trick in common. I’d describe the way that classic Zen haiku works in this way: The poet describes the world, and describes his own mind, in one deft and beautiful stroke. It’s like a report of what’s in front of and behind the eyes. Here are a couple of sweet Basho poems that do this:
temple bell
also sounds like it is
cicada’s voice
* * *
On a journey,
Resting beneath the cherry blossoms,
I feel myself to be in a Noh play.
And now check out how this verse by Gram Parsons works:
We flew straight across that river bridge
last night half past two.
Switchman waved his lantern “goodbye and good day”
as we went rolling through.
Billboards and truck stops pass by the grievous angel, Now I know just what I have to do.
—From “Return of the Grievous Angel”
I love how that last line comes out of nowhere. It is so direct and big-souled.
