Oku no Hosomichi

16 Oct

Ninety-nine words for my fellow travelers in Friday Fictioneers who each week use a photo prompt (shown below, courtesy Janet Webb) to inspire their stories.

In honor of Matsuo Basho



In the third year of my wandering

 And the fifth since plague stilled the land

 I come upon a flooded parking lot reflecting emptiness

The curse of improbable immunity

 Unlooked for and now unwelcome, has me seeking

 Someone to share my days and perhaps

 Warm my nights

I open my journal and administer my mind’s cure

 To paper

 The right words a balm and


 All that keeps me alive

I write

 With silent apologies to Basho

 A poem within a poem

 I think he would have enjoyed

“Along my journey

 Through this transitory world

 Cleanup in aisle five”

Screen shot 2013-02-10 at 2.29.29 PM

108 Responses to “Oku no Hosomichi”

  1. summerstommy2 October 16, 2013 at 10:00 am #

    Loved this one Doug, we all know that last line…well done.

    • dmmacilroy October 16, 2013 at 10:54 am #

      Dear Summerstommy,

      It seemed somehow appropriate. Thanks for visiting and commenting.



  2. Charles Williams Aborishade October 16, 2013 at 10:01 am #

    This feels so good to read.
    I loved your choice of words for the sake of the words not necessarily their meanings.

    • dmmacilroy October 16, 2013 at 10:53 am #

      Dear Charles,

      Thank you, kind sir.



  3. valeriedavies October 16, 2013 at 10:25 am #

    Dear Doug,
    It blew me away… the wonderful concept of honouring Basho, the imagination that conjured such a story out of such a picture… the beautiful well chosen words… and the lovely punch line and chuckle at the end. how clever to combine an appropriate haiku, with the joke that pricks the solemnity of what comes before.
    I’ve re-read it again and again, and the rhythm of the lines, the exquisite vocabulary and the dignity of this poetry is just lovely – clever old you…XXX

    • dmmacilroy October 16, 2013 at 10:39 am #

      Dear Valerie,

      Online at the same time, typing south and west to you with thanks for your observant eye and wonderful words. Mahalo.

      I’m wrestling behind the scenes with WordPress to insert spaces between the verses (which don’t show now) and am losing the battle.

      I’m glad you saw what I was after without the spaces. Writing in Basho’s style is somewhat of a departure for me but the serene chaos of the picture silently asked it of me.

      Kia Ora,


      Back to the battle now…

  4. Locomente October 16, 2013 at 11:37 am #

    Thats a mesmerising read…
    Writing can be soothing…
    Well said!

    • dmmacilroy October 16, 2013 at 12:56 pm #

      Dear Locomente,

      Thank you for relaxing in the flow.



  5. gingerpoetry October 16, 2013 at 11:40 am #

    Lieber Doug,
    so you are not only a writer but also a “Dichter” – since my favourite is writing poems (sometimes Haiku) I enjoyed this very much. It is modern, I love the form of your poem and the words. In Germany we call it “Zeilenbruch” – linebreak may be the English word. Thats what you do excellent, and so some words get more intensitiy.

    “Someone to share my days and perhaps

    Warm my nights”

    is my favorite passage.

    And by the way: I have the trouble with the spaces between the verses, too. Sometimes it works and sometimes not. Thats life.

    • dmmacilroy October 16, 2013 at 11:53 am #

      Dear Carmen,

      Did you notice how I spoofed WordPress? The little dash to the left side in the breaks left it no choice but to leave a space. Not the proper way, but I’m no coder and wanted the piece out there in front of my small world.

      When I think of Haiku I think of beauty and light and love for which I will forever yearn.

      Thank you for sharing your impressions regarding my attempt to emulate Basho. Your kind words mean a great deal to me.



      • gingerpoetry October 16, 2013 at 12:25 pm #

        you really are a poet, Doug.I´m proud to know you, even if it´s just in this virtual world.

  6. elmowrites October 16, 2013 at 12:28 pm #

    Oooh… post-apocalyptic fiction, Doug. Beautifully written and I’m so proud of you for managing not to make it a social commentary! I never knew you were a poet too – this is a wonderful new side to your writing.

    • dmmacilroy October 16, 2013 at 12:59 pm #

      Dear Jennifer,

      I believe this is poem number four or five out of 123 posts. No one has lynched me yet, so I may continue to try it now and again. Janet’s beautiful photo spoke to me of a wanderer coming upon the scene and I thought immediately of Basho. Though I did not stray to far outside of the box, I tried to do it justice with my verse.

      Thank you for your encouragement.



      • elmowrites October 16, 2013 at 1:44 pm #

        A wanderer indeed. It was interesting to see your view of the world after the four horsemen of the Acropolis strike! 😉

  7. Ye Pirate October 16, 2013 at 12:59 pm #

    More original than original. And a very decent homage to Basho. The haiku in the end…well….quite an ending! Yes, enjoyed.

    • dmmacilroy October 16, 2013 at 1:04 pm #

      Dear Managua,

      As I said, I think Basho would have enjoyed it. One can only hope.

      Thank you for your kind words, my friend. They carry a lot of weight with me.



  8. waitingforaname October 16, 2013 at 1:21 pm #

    Very poetic, Doug, and not at all the cliched disaster story I imagined as I read Helena’s admonition not to go there. 😉 Nicely done!

    • dmmacilroy October 16, 2013 at 1:24 pm #

      Dear Lisa,

      Thank you for that vote of confidence. I hope Helena feels the same way.



  9. H. Ken Abell October 16, 2013 at 1:29 pm #

    The haiku as the last stanza is a brilliant touch. This was really amazing. Well done.

    • dmmacilroy October 17, 2013 at 11:28 am #

      Dear Ken,

      I appreciate you saying so.

      Thank you for reading and commenting.



  10. Helena Hann-Basquiat October 16, 2013 at 1:44 pm #

    You really captured the sadness of great loss, and ended with a sense of the absurd that one must feel in the face of such tragedy. Haiku are really very difficult to write well, and they aren’t supposed to be just a collection of syllables — they are supposed to take something commonplace and transform it into something profound. “Cleanup in aisle five” does that with four common words. Just perfect, darling.

    • dmmacilroy October 16, 2013 at 1:59 pm #

      Dearest Helena,

      Basho’s Haiku about saving the unripened chestnuts to sell to the city slickers was ever in my mind as I wrote those lines. Huge shoes to fill. Thank you so much for not gigging me about my quiet disaster story:)

      I appreciate your kind thoughts.

      Aloha and Mahalo,


  11. dmmacilroy October 16, 2013 at 1:51 pm #

    Thanks so much for the Pingback, Helena. Mahalo’s aplenty winging their way to you as we speak.



  12. TheImaginator October 16, 2013 at 2:12 pm #

    Epic 🙂

  13. Sandra October 16, 2013 at 2:54 pm #

    You trod that narrow road with great finesse! And a superbly wry climax. Well done.

    • dmmacilroy October 16, 2013 at 2:57 pm #

      Dear Sandra,

      Thank you for dropping in and walking a while with me. I appreciate your presence on the road.



  14. Lynda October 16, 2013 at 4:37 pm #

    Wow! Really. Writing even the shortest parts of poetry scares me away from the computer, but to sit and write a whole story like this is way beyond my capabilities. Beautifully done, Doug.

    • dmmacilroy October 17, 2013 at 11:29 am #

      Dear Lynda,

      Thanks for the vote of confidence. This week’s story just sort of leaped fully formed into my mind and I have a love of Haiku, so Basho and his verses are never far from my mind.

      Thank you for reading and commenting.



  15. sustainabilitea October 16, 2013 at 5:13 pm #

    Beautiful and simply perfect, Doug. I do wish I knew how to trick WordPress so that I could have my poetry formatted the way I want it without the background being dark grey. 😦 My photo is honored to be the inspiration for your poem.


    • dmmacilroy October 17, 2013 at 11:33 am #

      Dear Janet,

      WordPress has issues every now and then. I managed to trick it this time.

      Thanks for telling me you enjoyed my offering this week. The picture is very good, Janet, and spoke to me right away of Basho’s wanderings.

      Thank you for reading and commenting.



  16. JKBradley October 16, 2013 at 6:09 pm #

    I was steeped in sorrow with this lost soul, until the sneak attack chuckle made me drop the pickle jar.

    Thanks for sharing.

    • dmmacilroy October 17, 2013 at 11:34 am #

      Dear JK,

      Sorry about the pickles:)

      Thank you for reading and commenting.



  17. anelephantcant October 16, 2013 at 6:38 pm #

    Elegant and tranquil.
    With a punch line.
    AnElephant loves this.

    • dmmacilroy October 17, 2013 at 11:34 am #

      Dear AEC,

      Mahalo plenty,



  18. Linda Vernon October 16, 2013 at 8:54 pm #

    Oh I love a good end of the world story and this one is so full of emotion and loss and yet he has found a reason to keep on going. You made me really love this character and the problem he has to solve.

    • dmmacilroy October 17, 2013 at 11:40 am #

      Dear Linda,

      I am heartened by your comments. The picture spoke to me and the story is mine, in a way, so it was not a stretch for me. I hope he solves his problem too.

      And though I wrote it from my perspective and Basho’s, my story could be about a woman.

      Thank you for reading and commenting.



  19. helenmidgley October 16, 2013 at 11:47 pm #

    That had such a great flow, I loved “the right words a balm” great line 🙂

    • dmmacilroy October 17, 2013 at 11:40 am #

      Dear Helen,

      Your words are a balm to me:)

      Thank you for reading and commenting.



  20. talesfromthemotherland October 17, 2013 at 5:18 am #

    This really has a flow and mood, that is unique and special in the stories I’ve read. Really special post this week, Doug. Nice job!

    • dmmacilroy October 17, 2013 at 11:41 am #

      Dear Dawn,

      Kind of you to be so effusive in your praise. i do not take it lightly.

      Thank you for reading and commenting.



      • talesfromthemotherland October 17, 2013 at 1:36 pm #

        Honest, versus kind… but who’s getting caught up over words. 😉 I loved it. Dawn

  21. kz October 17, 2013 at 8:08 am #

    woah. this blew me away! wonderfully written and i read it over and over again 🙂

    • dmmacilroy October 17, 2013 at 11:42 am #

      Dear Kz,

      Thank you for taking the time to read and tell me you enjoyed it.



  22. rochellewisoff October 17, 2013 at 9:02 am #

    Dear Doug,

    Your haunting story poem touched me more deeply than I can say. I read it more than once, first for content and then for pure enjoyment. After that, I looked up Basho and indulged myself in his beautiful haiku which made me appreciate your venture into his style all the more. Layer upon layer, I believe he would applaud your piece this week. Perfect title. I laughed out loud at your last line. The irony and dry wit illustrate your protagonist’s ability to laugh, despite his grief and desolation, at his impossible situation.

    Week after week, you set the bar high for the rest of us. Your writing entertains, enchants and amazes me. Thanks for another gem.



    • dmmacilroy October 17, 2013 at 11:58 am #

      Dear Rochelle,

      I’m gratified that you liked my poem and happy to see you here saying so.

      The only bar setting I know about is me at one, ordering a beer. But I’ll take your word for it.

      Mahalo nui loa.



  23. Lindaura Glamoura October 17, 2013 at 10:04 am #

    Gorgeous, Doug. I love your perfectly chosen poetics juxtaposed by reality. Lines such as, “I come upon a flooded parking lot reflecting emptiness” , make a person smile because Parking Lot is not usually found in profound poetry. The clincher, of course, is: “Clean up in Aisle 5”.
    Looks like they have a lot to clean up now…

    • dmmacilroy October 17, 2013 at 11:47 am #

      Dear Lindaura,

      And in my poem there is no more ‘they’ to clean things up. Just a wandering soul looking for someone, anyone, to share his pain.

      I appreciate you taking the time to comment with such detail on my tribute to Basho.

      Thank you for reading.



  24. rgayer55 October 17, 2013 at 10:38 am #

    Beautifully written, Doug. I could read this stuff all day long and never tire of it.
    I suppose a woman’s water broke on aisle five?

    • dmmacilroy October 17, 2013 at 11:45 am #

      Dear Russell,

      You are kind….

      …and incorrigeable.

      Thank you for reading and commenting.



  25. Steve B October 17, 2013 at 10:44 am #

    Great flow and vivid imagery. I can really seem an exhausted wanderer, grubby fingers writing in a carefully preserved notebook, knowing no one will likely every read it, but righting for himself if no one else. Good sense of fatalism battling stubborness.

    • dmmacilroy October 17, 2013 at 12:00 pm #

      Dear Steve,

      Keep at it. You’d be surprised how you will make your mark in the world.

      Thank you for reading and commenting.



  26. Lisa Yow-Williams October 17, 2013 at 12:13 pm #

    Doug, You have created lovely poetry here. And that last line is the clincher. I love beauty with a little humor in a poem. 🙂

  27. moondustwriter October 17, 2013 at 12:40 pm #

    sometimes the only friend is a pen and paper. This was a great apocalyptic piece, Doug. The reference to Basho and the haiku to calm and sustain – excellent!

  28. lingeringvisions by Dawn October 17, 2013 at 1:49 pm #

    This put a big ole smile on my face 🙂

  29. Craig Towsley October 17, 2013 at 2:03 pm #

    That third paragraph –
    so gentle
    and perfect
    and true

    • Craig Towsley October 17, 2013 at 2:06 pm #

      actually, I imagine in this case that should read stanza instead of paragraph.

  30. Adam Ickes October 17, 2013 at 2:14 pm #

    You nailed it with this one, Doug.

  31. zookyworld October 17, 2013 at 3:30 pm #

    Man, this is seriously good. Reminded me of Cormac McCarthy’s The Road, but with a haiku elegance and a touch of humor. I love that the character finds writing to be a balm. So true, so true. You knocked this one out of the park.

  32. claireful October 17, 2013 at 3:50 pm #

    Perfect, perfect, perfect, from the beginning to the last line. Beautifully bleak.

  33. bridgesareforburning October 17, 2013 at 4:20 pm #

    Hi Doug,
    Has anyone mentioned you have a way with words? Understatement of the century. This story shows how much beauty can be created in just a few superbly chosen words. Ron

  34. sandraconner October 17, 2013 at 6:06 pm #

    What grabbed me first was the fact that he didn’t seem to consider the plague that had destroyed everyone else to be the “curse,” but he considered is own evident immunity to be the curse. How relative so much of life is!

    I loved the idea that his mind’s cure for what he’s enduring is putting words to paper. It’s so often the case.

    The ending — what can I say? So unexpected, yet so perfect. Lifted the piece so high it can’t possibly get lost in the sea of ordinary ‘apocalyptic’ stories.

    Nice work on the poetry. Do more.

    • dmmacilroy October 17, 2013 at 6:24 pm #

      Dear Sandra,

      He is as alone as it is possible to be and still retain his sanity (though my character could be a ‘her’.) This poem was easy because all I had to do was write ‘me’. I did exactly that in the four other poems I’ve written on this blog. I suppose that it is cheating in a way, but it will have to suffice.

      Thank you for your kind comment and allowing me to respond in turn. I will try to do more as the muse demands.

      I hope you are well and staying in balance. If I search your blog will I find your e-mail address? Looking forward to writing you.



      • sandraconner October 23, 2013 at 3:06 am #

        Sorry, Doug, I guess I thought I had answered this earlier. I’m not sure all the comments go through the way I expect them to. Sometimes I send out comments, but they don’t show up on my list of comments later. Then I send them a second time, and the next day they show up twice. Go figure …. In answer to your question, yes, my e-mail is on my profile, but I did include it in my reply to the earlier conversation about your amphitheater story. Well — at least I think I did.

  35. vbholmes October 17, 2013 at 6:09 pm #

    Doug, you’ve lulled us with your beautiful mood poem and then brought us back to earth with your fun haiku at the end. Marvelous.

    • dmmacilroy October 19, 2013 at 11:14 am #

      Dear VB,

      Thank you, sir.

      I appreciate you taking the time to read and say so.



  36. Perry Block (@PerryBlock) October 17, 2013 at 10:09 pm #

    Beautifully done, Doug. Poetic, sad, touching, portentous, and then a familiar joke essentially to calm us and restore us. Great work!

    • dmmacilroy October 19, 2013 at 11:16 am #

      Dear Perry,

      Thanks for dropping in to read and comment. I got lucky with this one.



  37. ly October 18, 2013 at 1:31 am #

    The curse of improbable immunity–speaks to me because this curse leads to the loneliness. Beautifully executed.
    I see your dashes on the side. I don’t know if this will help, but if you hold the shift key down when you hit return, the space is taken away between the lines. Then, the space will be wider between the verses.

    • dmmacilroy October 19, 2013 at 11:20 am #

      Dear Laura,

      Thank you for the tip re WordPress lunacy. I’ll master it sooner or later. (Smart money is on later:)

      And thank you for your kind comments on my story, too.



  38. Jan Brown October 18, 2013 at 1:42 am #

    Absolutely lyrical. Captures the spirit of Basho’s wandering, as well.

    • dmmacilroy October 19, 2013 at 11:21 am #

      Dear Jan,

      Thanks. Do you know Basho, verse and history? Sounds like it. Amazing how his writing has survived him.



  39. Mike October 18, 2013 at 1:38 pm #

    A wonderful piece of writing Doug. I particularly enjoyed your apology to Basho (though, in my opinion, none was needed) and your finishing Haiku.

    • dmmacilroy October 19, 2013 at 11:25 am #

      Dear Mike,

      Thank you, Sir. My protagonist’s thoughts, but they fit with my sentiments as I wrote. The haiku is an adaptation of one of his more famous ones.



  40. annisik51 October 18, 2013 at 7:01 pm #

    Can an object be lonely? It seems so – these shopping trolleys that have lost their purpose, their humans. In your poem you make the trolleys echo back the loneliness of your traveller. They are absurd objects – in what they stood for – in juxtaposition with human tragedy and your last line conveys this beautifully: ‘Cleanup in aisle five’. Ann

    • dmmacilroy October 19, 2013 at 11:27 am #

      Dear Ann,

      Thanks for the reflections. When I saw Janet’s picture, the carts offended me, but then, with a little thought, I found my way. I appreciate you taking the time to read and comment.



      • annisik51 October 19, 2013 at 10:10 pm #

        Trolleys dumped in rivers offend me too. Too many people seem entirely unconscious of their environment. Grrrh.

  41. Björn Rudberg (brudberg) October 18, 2013 at 8:06 pm #

    Doug — excelllent form content and the reference to Basho is masterful — like his last trip.. had to google aisle 5… and this made it perfect.

    • dmmacilroy October 19, 2013 at 11:30 am #

      Dear Bjorn,

      Believe it or do not, I had your keen eye and intellect in my mind when I wrote this poem. Knew it had better be, at the very least, an honest attempt. I appreciate you reading and commenting.



      • Björn Rudberg (brudberg) October 19, 2013 at 11:33 am #

        You should try your hand at writing haibun. Prose combined with haiku that enhance the prose… It can be a wonderful read.


  42. Dee October 18, 2013 at 9:32 pm #

    Dear Doug
    This is hauntingly beautiful and so well written. I loved the down-to-earth ending, it made me laugh. Thank you for sharing this, it is a joy to read and read and read and…
    Take care

    • dmmacilroy October 19, 2013 at 11:32 am #

      Dear Dee,

      Your kind comments warmed my heart. Thank you so much. With Basho as my muse, it was hard to go wrong.



  43. The Bumble Files October 19, 2013 at 1:16 am #

    I felt a real quietness while I read this and I felt I was wandering with him on his journey. Superb and eloquent! – Amy

    • dmmacilroy October 19, 2013 at 11:37 am #

      Dear Amy,

      I’m glad you noticed the silence. I was shooting for it, but one never knows if the target has been hit. Your thoughtful and generous comments made me stop and really try to return the effort in my comment on your story. There is a real storyteller inside of you. It shows in the way you write and in the stories you tell. Keep at it.



      • The Bumble Files October 20, 2013 at 5:08 am #

        Dear Doug,
        Oh, you’re wonderful! You’re making me teary. It’s these moving, generous comments of yours that keep me going. Thanks. It really means a lot. It’s great to be a part of this community, especially when the writing is such a loner act. Thanks for the encouragement.

  44. Shirley McCann October 19, 2013 at 12:35 pm #

    Very nicely done. Loved that last line.

    • dmmacilroy October 20, 2013 at 9:50 am #

      Dear Shirley,

      Thank you. Should I have stopped sooner?



  45. MythRider October 19, 2013 at 2:37 pm #

    I agree with those above. Liked your poem. But I’m wondering about the bottom photo.
    Did you take it? Is is real? I love it. What’s the story?

    • dmmacilroy October 20, 2013 at 9:53 am #

      Dear Phyllis,

      It is a picture of a five stack lenticular cloud over Mt. Fuji. I collect beautiful pics from around the web and that one spoke to me as appropriate for the poem. I don’t know who took it or I would have credited them. Thanks for reading, commenting and asking.



      • MythRider October 20, 2013 at 6:18 pm #

        Doug, It’s an amazing photo. You did a good job picking it out.

  46. wmqcolby October 20, 2013 at 9:39 am #

    I’m such a sucker for poetry. No, I didn’t really take the time to try and figure it out, I just enjoyed the experience of being in the moment. You have the island blood in your writing, the rhythms, the “feel” of the sea, that stuff. Per my literature instructor in college, poetry is about experience just as much as metaphor, simile, etc. etc. Well-done!

    • dmmacilroy October 20, 2013 at 9:49 am #

      Dear Kent,

      Thanks for the thumbs up. I only try poetry when the muse hits me with a two by four. Yes to the islands in my blood.

      Mahalo, Sir.



      • wmqcolby October 20, 2013 at 9:55 am #

        Mahalo back! 😉

  47. David Stewart October 20, 2013 at 12:27 pm #

    I love the lonely, melancholy you’ve woven around this story. Context has even given “Clean up in aisle five” a philosophical bent.
    take care,

    • dmmacilroy October 28, 2013 at 1:53 am #

      Dear Dave,

      I appreciate that you caught the philosophical slant in my characters observation. I was trying for that without beating people over the head with it.

      I apologize for taking so long to get back to you. Thanks for reading and hanging around to comment.



  48. camgal October 21, 2013 at 2:05 am #

    I really enjoyed this. Good job

    • dmmacilroy October 28, 2013 at 1:47 am #

      Dear Camgal,

      Mahalo plenty!



  49. DCTdesigns October 21, 2013 at 5:45 pm #

    I loved the poetic form and the introspective nature of a man post-apocalypse. The Haiku (or is it a senryu?) made me smile, not only due to the whimsy of it, but the depth as well. Very multifaceted. Great piece.

    • dmmacilroy October 28, 2013 at 1:45 am #

      Dear Dana,

      Please forgive me for not getting back to you until now. I appreciate your kind comments and the mention of Senryu. The concluding haiku is Basho’s with the exception of the last line, hence the apology to him. I’ll be looking up Senryu and thank you in advance for adding to my knowledge.

      Thank you for taking the time to read and comment. You add fuel to my tank.



      • DCTdesigns October 28, 2013 at 5:26 pm #

        Love to read your work Doug.

  50. pattisj October 21, 2013 at 8:25 pm #

    You painted the stark landscape beautifully with your words. Nicely done.

    • dmmacilroy October 28, 2013 at 1:40 am #

      Dear Patti,

      I apologize for the delay in thanking you for commenting on my story. I appreciate you stopping by.



  51. Indira October 22, 2013 at 9:19 am #

    Very nice, it’s so far above my standard. I feel inadequate to comment on this. Wish I could write like this. i liked ‘ The right words a balm …’

    • dmmacilroy October 22, 2013 at 9:45 am #

      Dearest Indira,
      Free your mind, write from your heart. The right words are inside you. Place no limits on yourself. I have learned this to be true about anyone who desires to write. Now I’m telling you.

      Thank you for visiting and commenting.



      • Indira October 23, 2013 at 4:52 am #

        Thanks a lot, it’s a good advice. My problem is that English is not my 1st language so what I think i find it difficult to express. I enjoyed your posts.

      • dmmacilroy October 28, 2013 at 1:37 am #

        Dear Indira,

        If I tried to write in Hindi or German or Japanese I would have nothing but gibberish to show for it. I applaud you for writing in English, if only because I get to read it. Your writing is fine and will only get better. My advice stands, no matter what language you use. Looking forward to reading more from you.




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