Sunday, March 1, 2009

Alexis Rotella - Three Questions


Alexis Rotella is our guest poet this week. She is the editor of Modern Haiga and has published more than two dozen poetry books. Her work has appeared in numerous anthologies and hundreds of journals including The New York Times (Metropolitan Diary), Christian Science Monitor, Glamour, and Family Circle. Her well known longer poem "PURPLE" has appeared in hundreds of publications around the world and most recently appeared in Bernie Siegel, M.D.'s Love, Magic & Mudpies (Rodale Press). Rotella served as president of the Haiku Society of America (Japan House) in 1984 and was editor of Frogpond. She is a licensed acupuncturist and certified nutritionist in Arnold, Maryland.

http://www.alexisrotella.com

http://www.youtube.com/rengagirl



l. Why do you write haiku?

Haiku find me. Haiku help me make sense of life; they're like page markers on this one journey. This one says, "You were here," another says, "You witnessed this precious moment." We are lucky to be able to share our lives with each other in this simple yet profound way.

2. What other poetic forms do you enjoy?

I write senryu, tanka, renga and longer poetry.

3. Of the many wonderful haiku you've written, what do you consider to be your top three? (Please provide original publication credits.)

My three favorite haiku:


Eavesdropping
on the leaves
dropping.


A garden snake
slips out of
its knot.


The monk
sounding a butterfly
out of the bell.


(Eavesdropping, MET Press, 2007)



If you've been enjoying this weekly series and have not contributed, please consider sharing your response to the three little questions that Alexis answered. You must be a published poet in order to participate.

Karen Klein will be our guest next week.

1 comment:

Carlos Colon said...

My top two of many favorites by Alexis are these:

blackbirds lifting the field

After confession
skipping home.

I also use the following poem every time I teach haiku to elementary students:

During our little talk
I tear a daisy
to shreds.

Carlos Colon
Shreveport, Louisiana