4. Nicky Gutierrez ~ original face

Each November, we celebrate Thanksgiving in the United States. For many, this is a season of remembering with gratitude the many conditions for happiness we already possess. Gratitude is a profound spiritual practice, one that elevates the mundane into the extraordinary. How blessed are we if we have loved ones, sound health, and of course, good literature! At confluence, we are deeply grateful for this community of poets. Whether you are a poet Fellow or a new reader, a long-time lover of Japanese short form or someone new to haiku, we are grateful that you have joined us on this journey.

Nicky Gutierrez's poetry embodies this spirit of gratitude as he discovers divinity in the ordinary. In "daily prayer / the cry / of the cicada", Gutierrez bridges the diurnal rhythms of human faith and non-human creation. We wonder, is it the human narrator who prays? The cicada? Or the whole earth? The poem harkens back to the Psalms of the Hebrew Bible, which celebrate the planetary symphony in praise of the divine:

Let the sea resound, and everything in it,
    the world, and all who live in it.
Let the rivers clap their hands,
    let the mountains sing together for joy.¹

The Kokinshū (古今集), a tenth century anthology of waka, sounds a similar note:

Listening to the voices of the warbler that sings in the flowers or the frog that lives in the water, we ask, what of all living things does not create poetry? ²

A distinctive feature of Gutierrez's poetry is his blending of the Christian and Buddhist traditions. "pure land / lifting the fly / from the baptismal font" centers the boundless joy of saving a fly against the background of the Buddhist pure land and a Christian baptismal font. In Buddhism, the pure land is a realm without suffering where one may be reborn. In Christianity, the baptismal font holds water for baptism, a ritual by which a person is reborn into new life in Jesus. But just who is reborn here? Is it the fly, saved from death? Or the one who lifts the fly, reborn through their compassionate action? Or the two religious traditions, renewed by the small act of kindness witnessed by this haiku?

Even if some readers may lack sufficient knowledge of Buddhism or Christianity to grasp the nuances of Gutierrez's work on first read, that does not detract from the work. Indeed, confluence's mission is to promote haiku on innovative topics underrepresented in the current literature. By reading and rereading such poems and about such poems, the reader can get to know a larger world. And isn't there is a deliciousness to juxtaposing different elements—like two religious traditions—to birth something new? Isn't that what haiku is all about, using juxtaposition to create new worlds of meaning and being?

at the altar
a thousand colors
run together
in a thin wafer
broken for you

Ryland Shengzhi Li, confluence co-editor

^{1 Psalm 98:7-8 (NIV)
2 Translated by Haruo Shirane, in Traces of Dreams, Landscape, Cultural Memory, and the Poetry of Bashō 14 (1998)}

original face the apple in the tree

pilgrim’s road
the mist
trails ahead

Wales Haiku Journal Autumn 2023

pine needles
hit the bell—
winter lauds 

Modern Haiku 55:1 

snowflakes
my tongue
catches yours 

first frost 3

pure land
lifting the fly
from the baptismal font 

daily prayer
the cry
of the cicada

Stardust 58

burning scriptures
I obtain
the Word 

Heliosparrow October 28, 2023 

waning light
through the birch—
I take residence in the gospel

Heliosparrow October 28, 2023

just more prayers
bullet holes
in the wall 

Heliosparrow January 27, 2024 

bone rosary
one after another
raindrops

Kingfisher 5

temple shade
one more spider lily
blooms

Fireflies’ Light 28

outstretched hand
sunlight through
the communion wafer 

chewing on God
my mouth
empty of bread

Prune Juice 37

hiding
her wedding dress—
Feast of Mary Undoer of Knots

Kingfisher 8

crossing ashes
on my forehead
abuela’s prayers

killing the buddha
cherry blossoms
are cherry blossoms 

uprooting
the last nettle
Corpus Christi 

empty sake bottles buzz of dragonflies

honeymoon
the bees
in our hair 

The Heron’s Nest September 2024 

stargazing
the last words
of our father 

first frost 8

turtle coming
out of his shell—
Basho’s tomb 

red dragonfly
the sound of the ocean
between its wings 

finding my place
of resurrection—
a cardinal song

Frogpond 47:3

the other shore
spider webs
on the spider lily

the cicada’s melody empty tomb 

The Glorious Mysteries: Haiku Sequence

white lilies
in full bloom
empty tomb

broken chains
the dove flying
out of the cage

his hello comes
out as hola
rising fire 

the scent
of lilies
abandoned blue cloak 

laurel wreath
she hugs her son
once more 

In the Beginning Love Story: a Haiku Sonnet

divine language—
the rock
comes to be

clothed
in flesh—
felix culpa 

kotodama
the lamb
split in half 

word made flesh
cry
of a newborn 

rising sun
over the valley

My philosophy of haiku is that haiku is an unfinished poem that is completed by the reader. Like many things in life, haiku are not written in a vacuum. It is conversational; it is intertextual. Haiku is an invitation to the reader to experience the “haiku moment” that the poet felt. The poet leaves a gap that the reader must step into in order to complete the poem. This is probably the greatest thing that haiku offers to the world: its juxtaposition.  Haiku brings together different worlds and connections that otherwise would not go together. It forces the reader to make the connection and not only see the connection that the poet is making but internalize it. It draws the reader into the poet’s world. The best haiku are the ones that create this liminal space where multiple readings can emerge, where the poet allows for the reader to make new meaning.

In my philosophy of haiku, haiku is a gift both to the poet and reader. Haiku are made to be shared with others. Even if a haiku is never read by another person, the poet can return to the haiku with fresh eyes. The happiness I experience when I return to a haiku that I have not read in a long time is immense. I am drawn back into that specific moment and able to recall the emotions I felt. The joy I experience in writing a haiku for another person and seeing their happiness is something I would never trade anything for. Haiku is a gift that allows for human beings to express themselves to themselves and to others in order to help make meaning of life. 

Haiku is also a tool that allows one to help make meaning of moments of their life. It forces the poet to slow down and be aware of their surroundings to “discover” the haiku. Even if they do not write the haiku in that single moment, it comes back to them in a flash of lightning and helps them connect that moment with another. Haiku forces the poet to focus on the strongest senses and emotional feelings that they experienced in a disciplined way.

Haiku is not just a philosophy but a way of living. Haiku helps one live the “poetic life.” The poetic life is the beautiful life, and haiku is the privileged way to live that life.

Carissa Coane

Nicky’s poems are exemplary, at once reflecting haiku’s past, present, and future. His theo-haiku are particularly noteworthy: in only seven words, “original face” evokes profound connotations, both Biblical and personal. The juxtaposition that is fundamental to haiku at large takes on new dimensions in his contrast of nature and the divine: finding theophany in nettles (”unrooting”), he elevates the characteristic haiku moment to something transcendental.

My favorite piece of his, “In the Beginning Love Story,” is masterful. The careful positioning of felix culpa and kotodama — in sequential lines but separate stanzas — creates a masterful juxtaposition. Furthermore, this poem’s original format is inspiring: I am already thinking of how to craft my own haiku-sonnets!

It is Nicky’s vivid language, as precise as it is accessible, that makes even his strictly earthbound haiku a treat to read (”snowflakes,” “honeymoon”). Never shying away from the vulnerable (”bone rosary,” “just more prayers”), he traverses between heaven and earth, making explicit the quest for answers, for meaning, for hope, which unites us all — whether we believe or not.

Daniel Shank Cruz

Nicky Gutierrez’s poetry is unabashedly spiritual, with references to topics such as rosaries, prayer, resurrection, the body of Christ, and the Buddha. This subject matter is a risk, because not all readers are going to be familiar with the theological traditions that the poems converse with. But poets must first of all be true to ourselves, and what draws me to Gutierrez’s work despite my personal rejection of organized religion is the poems’ laser focus on the search for truth. In this search, they argue that haiku can make a difference in the world. 

Gutierrez’s poetry reminds us that our spiritual lives take place in the material realm. “snowflakes / my tongue / catches yours” is a poem firmly rooted in the flesh that illustrates how transcendence can be found in both awe-inspiring nature and individual moments. Likewise, the senryu “pure land / lifting the fly / from the baptismal font” uses humor to remind us that the profane and the sacred are not as far apart as they seem—flies are God’s creatures too. “just more prayers / bullet holes / in the wall” acknowledges that religious belief is nothing without ethical actions supporting it. Prayer without love for one’s fellow humans is meaningless. Regardless of our theology, this is an ethical lesson for all of us.

Vandana Parashar

Nicky is a theopoet and it is reflected in his work. His poems are meditative and blend deep spiritual themes with striking natural imagery. He sees nature as a means of spiritual quest, and ordinary moments have profound significance for him. 

His knowledge of various schools of thought and spiritual practices is evident from his work. His poems are inclusive of both Eastern and Western spiritual traditions and he artfully combines them both into his poems like:

original face the apple in the tree

In Zen, “original face” is a descriptor for Buddha-nature or one’s real essence. He juxtaposes this with the “apple in the tree” which immediately brings to mind the Garden of Eden and how everything was before Eve ate the apple. This powerful phrasing thus suggests the desire to return to the uncorrupted true self.

Religion is a consistent thread throughout Nicky’s work. Being a religious and spiritual person myself, I find that very comforting. His poems resonate with me as I don’t believe in meaningless rituals as a way to understand God and achieve enlightenment.

burning scriptures
I obtain
the word

The act of burning scriptures is associated with loss or desecration, but in this poem, it has become a form of purification and enlightenment. 

Another theme which runs through many of his poems is familial relationships. Here, too, the blending of the sacred and personal experiences continues.

crossing ashes
on my forehead
abuela’s prayers

stargazing 
the last words
of our father

I have read more of Nicky’s work in various journals. In everything he writes, he is true to his haiku philosophy of giving readers space and a chance to make his poems their own. His poems are spiritually rich and deeply human and offer the readers moments of profound insight.

In the end, I would like to quote this stunning haiku which symbolizes that true enlightenment comes from unmediated experiences and one should let go of any preconceived notions about it. What a powerful message to convey through such a short and simple poem!

killing the buddha 
cherry blossoms 
are cherry blossoms

Thank you for reading! We invite you to continue the conversation by hitting the "comment" button below. Feel free to share your favorite poem of Nicky's, your reactions to his work, or feedback for the journal. Nicky and the editors look forward to reading and responding to your comments.

If you liked the issue, we also welcome you share this with others in your community. Stay tuned for the next issue in December!