A train ticket and a (kid-friendly) poem in your pocket

April 29 is Poem in Your Pocket Day (2022). If you’re a parent or teacher looking for poems to share with kids, haiku is the perfect pocket poem –tiny, quick to read, and easy to jot down on a small scrap piece of paper.  Last Train Home is a collection of train-inspired haiku from around the world (edited by me and available through Amazon). The book is aimed at adults, but includes many examples of poems that will inspire kids and teens. A sampling:

bullet train for Tokyo

too fast to finish

my box lunch

– Emiko Miyashita, Japan

*

thinning crowds

the station mouse obeys

the Keep Left sign

– David Jacobs, United Kingdom

*

on the Jacobite

twenty-one arches near Glenfinnan

crossing worlds

– susan spooner, Canada

*

[Note: in the Harry Potter movies, the train to Hogwarts crosses the Glenfinnan Viaduct in north-west Scotland]

*

evening star

a child echoes every call

of the train vendors

– Ramesh Anand, India

*

night train

an open boxcar

filled with stars

– Ron C. Moss, Australia

*

 

 

Talking to kids about animal needs

What Animals Want is my new nonfiction book for kids ages 9-12 in the Orca “Think” series. The book uses the internationally recognized “Five Freedoms” checklist for animal welfare as a framework for looking at the basic needs that all animals have:

• Freedom from hunger and thirst
• Freedom from pain, injury and disease
• Freedom from distress
• Freedom from discomfort
• Freedom to express behaviors that promote well-being

Yes, these sound a lot like the needs people have, which is a good starting point for helping kids imagine and think about what different animals experience in different situations. The checklist is also tied to what the latest animal science tells us about the physical, psychological and social needs of specific animals (a dog’s needs and responses are different from a cats, or a lizard’s or cow’s, for example).

What Animals Want was written in consultation with the British Columbia Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals (BCSPCA). To help get the book into the hands of kids and teachers, the BCSPCA humane education program sent copies to schools and libraries across the province! The book was really interesting to research and write, and it was especially exciting to see how the text came together with photographs and the fun illustrations by Julie McLaughlin (my cat, Curious, and dog, Dylan, even make an appearance).

To find out a bit more about my book and another in the Orca Think series, check out these two videos in which I talk with author Lois Peterson about her new book Shelter: Homelessness in our community, and she asks me questions about mine:

What Animals Want and Shelter interview, part one

What Animals Want and Shelter interview, part two

Sharing a train window

I’m thrilled to announce the launch of Last Train Home, a new collection of haiku, tanka, and rengay celebrating train travel! The book is edited by me, with contributions from poets around the world.

Over the past year, many of us have had to cancel trips and stay close to home. But there are no limits to where our imaginations can take us. Last Train Home is an invitation to remember past trips, and imagine the sights, sounds, tastes, smells, and emotions others have experienced crossing the Canadian prairies or the Australian Outback, climbing China’s Yellow Mountain, travelling at night between Paris and Madrid, glimpsing Mount Fuji, stopping at border crossings, and so much more. It also looks forward to when we can once again travel freely, get together with family and friends, meet new people, and explore new places.

In the meantime, I’d like to welcome you on a virtual train tour, beginning with a photo of sunrise from Saskatoon station on my first cross-Canada VIA Rail trip back in the mid-1980s. The haiku that follows speaks to more recent experience on the same train—sharing a dining table with different passengers each day.

sunrise

across the dining car

an exchange of hometowns


Jacquie Pearce

And a few more selections from the book:


Paris to Milan train

the baby cries

in every language


Karen Hoy



departing Valencia

as my vacation ends

scent of oranges


Roberta Beach Jacobson



dark night

a migrant catching sleep

on the last train


Adjei Agyei-Baah

Last Train Home is available on Amazon in various countries. You can also drop into the Last Train Home -haiku Facebook page for more poems, photos, and stories related to the book and train travel in general.

To keep the virtual train going, I’m inviting other creative writing bloggers to share their train stories and photos and link back here.

Next stops on the tour:

kcdyer, Vancouver-based author of the literary travel adventure, Eighty Days to Elsewhere

Poet Julie Thorndyke from New South Wales, Australia

Haiku Railroad Blues video with US haiku poet Alan Pizzarelli

Crafty Green Poet, Juliet Wilson, writing from Edinburgh, Scotland

a past train post by UK poet Alan Summers and a new post about the train anthology.

Haiku poet Agnes Eva Savich shares some of her train haiku and images from her 1998 European train travels

Choo choo ku is on the way

Sorry, I couldn’t resist! Last Train Home, the anthology of train haiku, tanka, and rengay, which I’ve been working on for close to three years (as editor) is almost ready! Will be launching the book with a virtual train tour starting here next week.

(waiting for a late train at the Brockville Station in Ontario, shortly before I boarded VIA Rail’s Canadian to travel from Toronto to Vancouver back in Sept 2015)

Flattening the Curve – the poetry pandemic continues

One of the ways I’ve been keeping connected with friends while staying apart is through sharing haiku (and getting together through video chats). Here are a few pandemic-inspired haiku from poets in Canada, Croatia, the USA and UK.

– Djurdja Vukelić-Rožić

empty streets
feeling the warmth
of spring sun

– Carole MacRury

lining her new home
with stolen tissue
momma squirrel

– Grant D. Savage

corona virus –
the magpies build nests
just the same

– Juliet Wilson

social distancing
kites spread out
across the sky

– Jacquie Pearce

the tiny buds
I wouldn’t have noticed
shelter in place

– Deborah P Kolodji

masked up
my glasses fog
defog

– Alan S. Bridges

girls’ night out
clinking wine glasses
through a computer screen

– Jacquie Pearce

waiting
for the curve to flatten . . .
cherry blossoms

 – Terry Ann Carter

More pandemic poetry here:

Borders: Real and Imagined (guest post by haiku poet Carole MacRury)

Poetry Pandemic (haiku)

An Abundance of Caution (a longer poem by haiku poet Michael Dylan Welch)

Ways to enjoy the cherry blossoms while social distancing:

Virtual community events through the Vancouver Cherry Blossom Festival (including international haiku contest)

Vancouver Cherry Blossom Festival blog

Virtual cherry blossom walk around the Historic Joy Kogawa House neighbourhood (Marpole, Vancouver), with haiku by Sally Ito

Borders: Real and Imagined (Poetry Pandemic continued)

Guest Post by haiku poet Carole MacRury of Point Roberts, Washington, USA (originally shared on Facebook March 2, 2020 ─before the sh*t hit the fan, so to speak). Carole offers a balanced perspective that encourages us to see moments of light and beauty without ignoring the darker context and the health and safety protocols we all need to follow. Carole is also a talented photographer whose photos remind us that in these times of anxiety, uncertainty and physical isolation, nature offers a sense of continuity and solace. Thanks, Carole ❤

[photo by Carole MacRury]

Covid-19—
a deer grazes both sides
of the border

Living in an isolated community such as mine [Point Roberts is located on a small peninsula connected to Canada, with access to the rest of the USA requiring crossing two borders], it’s easy to forget the pandemic spreading across the country as we watch eagles building nests, the patient herons waiting for a fish and the female deer bringing out their yearlings to graze. All things I saw just yesterday. All of it brings a sense of hope, of light, of Spring around the corner, but of course, we know the dark side is never far away. While we have one grocery store, one postal office, we can only rely on one small clinic that lacks a full-time doctor and is not open every day. Otherwise, we must cross borders to get to our primary doctors. There is no huge infrastructure available in our small community, except for community itself, and our fire department, ready and able to do everything possible with their a-class medics. Yet, across the border, businesses are already suffering, through fear, not reality, yet. No state of emergency has been declared in BC, but it has however, been declared in Washington State with the death toll increasing, specifically in one nursing home. I straddle both scenarios living on the 49th parallel between US and Canada.

Covid-19—
the dim-sum crowd
disappears

A large Asian population lives just across the border in the lower mainland of Vancouver. A place I love to visit. All the signs in Chinese, the food opportunities, of course offer a culinary delight. However, even the Chinese Canadians are avoiding their own markets. Business is down. The only reason, fear. People need to eat, so to not support local business will hurt us all. The Asian malls, too, suffering. Well, we can put off buying unnecessary items, but what will it do to the store owners? Then there are the beautiful open markets with their colorful displays of fruits and vegetable. Such a waste. Fear is keeping people away. As we hunker in our homes, remember the homeless, living and breathing on the streets.

the homeless. . .
hungry eyes pass by
rotting produce

Yet, despite it all, life somehow goes on. People do their best to get to get to work, after all, bills won’t stop arriving in the mailbox, unless the postal workers gets sick. Our hero’s ─ ambulance drivers, health workers, doctors, nurses, policeman, firemen continue to come to our rescue. Yet, it’s hard to live in a cave of one’s making. To think of our homes as a prison, so we venture out with caution.

a tiny cough . . .
the tai chi class moves
six feet apart

Carole MacRury

—

[Note: The World Health Organization accessed the Covid-19 outbreak as a pandemic on March 11, 2020, after Carole’s original post. Check your local health service for the most recent advisory. Click here for the Canadian link.]

As the pandemic continues and more and more people are self-isolating or social distancing, let’s unite through sharing poetry, art and acts of kindness (and the creative ways people are finding to create, inspire and help each other across “social distancing”). I’ll share more pandemic prompted haiku in my next post.  -Jacquie

Poetry Pandemic

First off, my heart goes out to everyone adversely affected by the Covid-19 pandemic.

How are you coping with social distancing or self-isolation? Has it prompted any poetry (haiku or otherwise)? As a writer who spends a lot of time working alone at home, the health scare hasn’t changed my routine a lot. But I will go stir crazy if I don’t get out of the house for walks and occasionally get-together with family and friends. I’m not sick, so I can go out, but it’s hard to maintain distancing on public transit, which means I’m either staying home, or trying to avoid peak times for crowds (plus, of course, doing a lot of hand-washing).

crowded Skytrain
a new awareness
of shared air

[Update March 18, 2020: now staying at home and not using public transit]

I’m also going for more lone walks closer to home, enjoying the spring blossoms and bird songs, and I just experienced my first video-chat meeting today (via Zoom), which was actually kind of fun. With the cancelling of upcoming conferences and travel plans, I’m travelling vicariously through getting back to working on the train haiku anthology (after temporary derailment by other work commitments). I’ll be posting an update later in the spring and should have a book cover image to share soon!

If you have any pandemic poetry, or creative ideas for weathering the Corvid-19 precaution period (while staying safe and keeping others safe), please share.

Call for train haiku . . .

I’ve always loved trains (the lonely call of a whistle in the night, the view of passing landscape from a train seat, the rocking rattle of an overnight berth, conversations with strangers in the dining car…), and have been thinking for some time about putting together an anthology of haiku about trains. Well, the project is finally getting on track.

You are invited to submit haiku, tanka, rengay, and haibun with a train theme (including experiences and imagery related to steam trains, bullet trains, cross-country journeys, commuter trains, freight trains, the passing landscape, human interaction on trains, internal journeys, etc).

Please submit:

– up to 20 haiku

– up to 5 tanka

– up to 3 rengay

– up to 3 haibun

Unpublished and previously published work will be considered. Please include submissions in the body of the email, and provide previous publication credits, as well as your name, email and postal address. Please put “train anthology submission” and your name in the subject line of your email.

Deadline for submissions: June 30, 2018 [Submissions now closed. Info on upcoming book will be posted in spring/summer 2020]

If you’re coming to this blog for the first time and would like more information about who I am, I write haiku and other poetry, short non-fiction, and novels for children (my website: jacquelinepearce.ca). My haiku, tanka and haibun have been published in a variety of journals and anthologies, and two of my haiku recently co-won the League of Canadian Poets inaugural haiku contest. I also co-edited The Jade Pond, a collection of haiku by the Vancouver Haiku Group published earlier this year, and I’m a co-judge for the 2018 Vancouver Cherry Blossom Festival Haiku Invitational.

You can read something about my family’s train legacy here.

My year of Joy Kogawa House and Haiku

For me, 2017 has been a year connected to Joy Kogawa House.

Historic Joy Kogawa House is the childhood home of Canadian author Joy Kogawa, who wrote the ground-breaking novel Obasan, a fictional story based on Joy’s memories of being interned as a child during WW II, along with thousands of other Canadians of Japanese descent. Located in the Marpole neighbourhood of Vancouver, the house was built in 1912-13. Joy and her family lived there from 1937 until they were interned in 1942. During the war, the house was confiscated and sold, and Joy’s family was not able to return to Marpole. Years later, however, Joy lent her support to a community campaign that saved the house from demolition. Today, the house is a space for author residencies, literary events, as well as remembering the injustices experienced by Japanese Canadians during the Second World War, and moving toward healing and reconciliation.

Joy and her brother at the front (west side) of the house c. 1938

 

I was grateful to be offered a writing residency at the house, which was initially planned for February. Since February is National Haiku Writing Month (the shortest month of the year for the shortest form of poetry), and haiku is one of my passions, I decided to focus on haiku, and to partner with the Vancouver Cherry Blossom Festival (VCBF), preparing for the spring blossom celebration and the festival’s international haiku contest. Plans shifted slightly, and rather than staying at the house in February, I organized a poetry reading and haiku workshop, and worked with the VCBF on koinobori scale-painting activities in preparation for Sakura Days Japan Fair without staying at Joy Kogawa House (which I was able to do since I live in the Vancouver area). (More on these activities in an earlier blog post.)

February poetry reading, plus haiku workshop & koi scale painting

In May, I visited the house for a reading and performance of “A Suitcase full of Memories” by Joy Kogawa and Soramaru Takayama of Japanese Poets North of 49, and was delighted to meet and briefly chat with Joy afterwards.

In July, I was able to live at the house and work on my own writing projects, finishing a verse novel for children, and co-editing an anthology of haiku poetry written by members of the Vancouver Haiku Group. I started the month by hosting a book-making workshop given by poet and book artist Terry Ann Carter from Victoria, which brought together many creative people, and was an inspiring kick-off to my in-house residency. Staying at the house by myself gave me time and space to focus on writing without my usual distractions, making a big difference to my writing pattern and productivity. I also enjoyed the opportunity to explore and get to know the Marpole neighbourhood, including its tree-lined streets, housing mix, history, and changing local culture, and to relax in the peaceful stillness of the backyard where a young Joy Kogawa once played.

I returned to the house to live and work at the end of August, and also hosted a presentation by my friend and colleague Jean-Pierre Antonio, a professor at Suzuka University in Japan, who gave us a fascinating account of the life of Japanese immigrant Masayuki Yano through the translation of Mr. Yano’s pre-WW II diaries.

At the end of September, my haiku activities at the house concluded with the hosting of An Evening of Japanese Poetic Forms: from the Tokaido Road to the World Stage, with Terry Ann Carter reading from her new book of haibun (prose with haiku), Tokaido (Red Moon Press), Rachel Enomoto sharing haiku, and Kozue Uzawa reading tanka and leading participants in a short tanka-writing workshop.

An Evening of Japanese Forms, a Word Vancouver event (with thanks to Tracey Wan for the bottom right photo)

In early November, Joy Kogawa returned to the house to read from her children’s picture book, Naomi’s Tree, which was a treat for all of us who came out to listen and celebrate the old cherry tree in the laneway behind Joy Kogawa House. The tree now has a plaque, encouraging people to seek it out on their neighbourhood walks.

So now, I seem to have come full circle, enjoying the house in each season, and again, looking ahead to early spring when the cherry blossoms will bloom again.

My workspace while in residence at Joy Kogawa House (looking out at the old cherry tree behind the back fence)

 

To close, here are a few simple haiku written during my stay:

 

no need

for an alarm clock

early morning crows

 

picking the last

ripe raspberry

evening robin

 

And from my evening walk past the elementary school young Joy Kogawa attended:

 

fading daylight

the empty swing

still swinging

 

 

Trees I Have Known

I just spent about an hour trying to find an old photo of my daughter on a swing in a big old cherry tree that used to be in our backyard. I couldn’t find the photo, but refound this post and thought I would reshare (I can’t seem to find the time to write these kinds of posts lately).

wild ink

Anyone else have a favourite tree from childhood? The tree in the photo is one of several Broadleaf Maples that I grew up with. Its branches have held a Tarzan swing (placed there by my dad) for over 40 years, entertaining neighbourhood kids for two generations.

The branches of one Maple reached right to my top floor bedroom window, its broad green leaves playing with sunlight in summer, rustling orange-yellow in fall –always nourishing my spirit.

Another Maple tree supported a sturdy playhouse built by my dad, with the trunk of the tree growing up through the middle of the house and offering the perfect climbing route to the playhouse roof and from there further up to where my brother later built a smaller, more precarious-looking tree house. The small tree house was like a crow’s nest at the top of a ship mast, offering views of all the neighbouring…

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