This is a discussion, a trial. A poetic …aside? (Sorry Robert!)

I thank our poetic friend, Meena Rose for introducing me to the discipline of Boketto. I have been thinking about how to translate this into a poetic form.

Boketto is a Japanese word that really doesn’t translate into English very well. The idea behind Boketto is staring at the sky or into the distance without a thought… Getting lost in one’s own self; removing the self from a place mentally. There is no regard to the past and no concern for the future. There is only THIS moment. The Boketto can be a very personal poem, or can be one of a random observation.

The Boketto consists of two stanzas, One of five lines (30 syllables – 7,7,7,4,5) and a three line (17 syllables – two seven syllable lines and a three syllable line which becomes a refain if a string of Boketto are written).

A variation of the Boketto can make use of two (three) ancient Japanese forms, the Tanka and the Haiku (Senryu). The moment of which you write will determine the choice. (Haiku – nature; Senryu – anything else).


The air is filled with static,
a bombardment of senses
meant to irritate; annoy.
There is no joy,
this moment must cease.

I must escape in my mind,
hoping to find inner peace.
No relief.

© Walter J Wojtanik, 2014

Variation on Boketto:


I am imprisoned,
lost in this moment in time.
I am writing rhyme
hoping to vacate this shell
and become one with my words.

not a sound is heard
silence becomes an ally
setting the soul free

© Walter J Wojtanik, 2014


I’m looking for feedback on this idea for a new form. Please try it and let me know if it is workable. Is there an ease in its construction? Does it convey the essence of Boketto? This does not tie into the Granada Camp poems, although feel free to use the form for a future prompt. We may do something with it in the future if it works out. Thanks in advance for giving it a look! Walt.


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  2. A Speck of Mystic

    Allow me to drift weightless
    become one with the floating,
    a drop among many spheres
    I’ll be the hue –
    mountains ghostly veil.

    Render me gravity free
    empty of worrisome fog –

    Copyright © Hannah Gosselin 2014

    • this feels like someone doing yoga, hovering above their mats, free of this world. . . I’ll be the hue. . . lovely

  3. I think this form works well, Walt. I enjoy the syllabic feel of the haiku and other traditional Japanese forms paired with the meaning of the word Boketto…fused to together to create this form.

    For this poem I actually had an image of the mist veiled Tianzi Mountains in China to muse on as well…gotta love the serendipity there. 🙂

    Thank you for sharing your form idea with us, Walt!

  4. Thanks for this, Walt. Syllable-counting poetry is a two-edged sword for me: I use haiku to get through the occasional poetry desert, but normally prefer free verse or metrical forms. I’ll give it a go and see what develops.

  5. Here is my raw attempt–
    I think this form is meditative and carries a certain lingering reflective flow of its own

    I am here now in this space
    watching my inhale exhale
    not really feeling my thoughts
    encompassing raw
    in a blueless void

    They say that answers come through
    the fog lifts and peels dead skin


    There’s a point when ones sight turns
    Inward, curls upon your thoughts
    And soothes scarlet from sunsets.
    It fades to dark
    And draws in the night.

    And our daydreams turn to sleep,
    Our hopes to slumbering thoughts,
    And we rest.




    Among the pinpoints of light
    are orange and green and gold
    and shades of pink and blue hues
    from end to end
    on the dome of sky.

    Glittering; scintillating;
    inspiring the lightning bugs;
    night is light.

    copyright 2014, William Preston

    NB: for me, this form, if that’s what it is, is easier to handle than traditional haiku or senryu, probably because there are more syllables to work with. The notion of being in the moment seems Zen-like to me; I often have trouble doing that, and that makes this form, like haiku, feel a bit wrong for me; I also tend to like the feel of a beat, and syllabic forms tend not to have that, or so it seems to me. Even so, I like the challenge; the above is what I was able to come up with as a response.

    • I really enjoy the layering of pinpoints and flashing glow of lightning bugs here…the colors bring this to life, gives it a feeling of aura, for me. Nicely done, William!

    • William, I agree, the Zen-like feel is hard for me as well, but this is a beautiful poem


    I have seen day clouds display
    faces long gone from this world
    as if to remind me how
    they all are now
    in the tall heavens.

    What God creates remains
    forever in some new form
    blessed, reborn.


  9. I like the form, but wasn’t sure it required any rhymes (I found some in the samples) or whether it was up to the poet’s discretion.

  10. Hmm. . . I have no distance to stare into . . . which hopefully the poem conveys.

    I enjoy the syllable counting, without the meter or rhyme. I find it easier, but I’m not sure if I find the right subjects for the poems

    Side by side, TVs divide
    Our room in half, hers and mine
    Hers the latch hook, mine the books
    Two beds, two clocks
    Twelve pictures between

    Complaints in common—the food
    Laugh together, ads and aides

  11. Start to Finish

    When you really think about it
    And think about it you should
    Will your finish be any better
    Than the start you started with
    Or will it be all for naught?

    Not that it really matters much
    When it’s all said and done
    ‘Cause nothing can be redone
    That’s already been completed
    What we do is what we bear

    Bare your soul unto the truth
    We only know the starting point
    The finish line will hit the fan
    Most likely when least expected
    Be ready for it, no matter when

    © 2014 Earl Parsons

  12. Her Eyes

    Look into her deep blue eyes
    Pools of early evening skies
    Love and passion magnifies
    From those blue eyes
    Those beautiful eyes

    In her eyes I’m hypnotized
    Beauty has me mesmerized

    © 2014 Earl Parsons

  13. Ascension

    A flame ignites. Orange-hued
    stylus sketches a tango
    against the cerulean
    backdrop of sky.

    There, my Montgolfier heart
    rises like encouragement
    on a breeze.


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