INFORM POET – BOKETTO

A while back, I heard about something called boketto. Boketto is a Japanese word that really doesn’t translate into English very well. But, the concept of Boketto is akin to 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 connection to the future. There is only THIS moment.

From this thought I’ve experimented with incorporating boketto into a poetic form and thus the Boketto was born. 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 refrain if a string of Boketto are written). It expresses a single moment in time!

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

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WALT’S BOKETTO:

FIND MY PEACE

A cacophony of sound
surrounds this place, surrounds me.
there is no escaping it.
I cannot think
with this distraction.

But as the silence arrives
I wrap it around myself,
find my peace.

© Walter J Wojtanik – 2019

44 thoughts on “INFORM POET – BOKETTO

  1. GAZING

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

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

  2. God’s name: I am who I am
    I’m who I always have been
    I’m who I always will be
    Never changing
    Eternal Lord God
    The everlasting Father
    The wonderful Counselor
    King of kings

  3. When you said the boketto was for “in the moment,” the “I am who I am” statement flew into my mind. A poem that practically wrote itself, not like my tortured attempts with mirror and anagram.

  4. (after today’s lunch)

    Grilled barbecued ribs with beans
    A meal fit for Texas kings
    In celebration of success
    Calves born, cows bred
    Steers for fine dining
    Oil to burn and steaks to eat
    Lone star proud and Texas bred
    Cattle kings

  5. Japanese forms are my favorites. Could be because I spent many years in that country while in uniform. Sure wish I could go back and visit. Maybe someday.

    Blind

    How can one look and not see
    The miracles around us
    The wonders so evident
    Surrounding us
    Engulfing our lives

    So many with eyes wide shut
    Blind to what is obvious
    Such a loss

  6. Deaf

    That still small voice whispering
    Through the echoes of you mind
    It just wants your attention
    Won’t you listen
    Don’t turn a deaf ear

    It’s not imagination
    It’s glorious salvation
    Heed the call

  7. Dumb

    It doesn’t fly anymore
    Those darn branches clipped its wings
    Pilot error did it in
    No more flight time
    My drone is grounded

    I think I’ll cut that tree down
    I memory of my drone
    That’s so dumb

  8. Believe

    He watches over his flock
    Even when we think He’s not
    He is always standing near
    Hoping that we
    Will rely on Him

    Without Him we are nothing
    With Him all is possible
    Just believe

  9. Moment by Moment

    A cough, a sneeze, truck rumbling
    by. I try to clear my mind,
    waiting for the stillness of thought–
    concentration.
    And then, a moment.

    Color sweeps behind my lids,
    eyes closed to the outside world.
    I am here!

  10. Spring Again

    a yellow crocus blooming
    amid winter’s detritus
    welcome herald
    of warmer days to come

    a flash of golden petal
    surrounded by slender leaves
    hope fulfilled

  11. Still getting that occasional erratic behavior, Walt and Marie: sometimes I see my comments immediately; sometimes I don’t.

  12. Walt, what a comfort that blanket of silence is. Love this.
    I tried stringing a few related moments.

    Three Days

    A brazen ironclad silence
    holds the moon still in the sky,
    and timid stars dare not shine
    on a night so
    hard as this one is,

    my hope to walk forever
    at His side, nailed this hard day
    on a cross.
    – – –
    A wordless, thoughtless Sabbath,
    cloaks and hoods concealing shame,
    uncertainty and despair
    the undergarments
    I wear in hiding,

    sorrow the iron spear that pierced
    my spirit, blood and water
    on a cross.
    – – –
    And then-and then! A new day
    and the breath he took for me
    and the words he spoke to me
    resurrected
    my desperate heart,

    and put to death with power
    all my shameful yesterdays
    on a cross.

    © Damon Dean, 2018

  13. Pingback: For Twiglet #119 and PB’s Boketto – The Journal

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