This was a reply to my comment, it is so interesting, one of my my replies was...

This metaphor is well expressed by Soseki, the Japanese haiku poet.

Butterfly, these words
from my brush, are not flowers,
only their shadows.

They say it in such subtle ways, and this, being a translation has lost all the immediate impact that the calligraphic symbols for the words must give, to the minds of those who can feel their culture in their stored memory, the accumulation of experience that is there a part of our perception, that are with us as long as we live. The Japanese sense the subtle meanings beyond the "words."

Often these haiku have seasonal references, or months for example: the month of the dolls. Here we cannot follow, without a thorough study of their customs and ideas, although H. Blyth and many others have written tomes on them, each translation differing a little from the one before. Blyth also compares the poetry of, what shall we call it, the West, with the Japanese poems, making it very interesting.

There lie the metaphors that govern how we perceive a poem, and, unless some charlatan, or pedant lets lose, deliberately wishing to be misunderstood, or "apart" in some superior manner, a mannered poet, we can revel in the variety of revelations that arise in our minds from the poems provocation.

Ann Waddicor
__________
THIS WAS WRITTEN BEFORE THE ANSWER IN THE PROSE ABOVE:- by A

You excite me discussing haiku in your, obviously, more knowledgeable angle,
if you know of a book, or your book? About this subject in this manner please 
do tell me about it, Blyth was good I feel, others are sometimes to specialised 
in other directions, half hearted (Sh!) But what you said made me sit up. 

Where philosophy and art combine and make a climbing plant of knowledge enhanced 
with bloom.

I have known this intuitively as to me the sound of poetry, in a musical flow I like to express my poetry and prose, as if one were taking on's own whole being, as in the dance, and using the complete mental and physical essence(?) to rhythmically dance the writing, not only writing with the contact of the feet/pen, but with all the keen concentrated attention possible, plumbing every corner of our being in the process.

The timeless side of life exposed with the subtle unfolding of the petals of the most magnificent bloom, personified by the poet in the same manner as the Zen painters, who with sudden burst 'exploded' their paint onto the sheet of white opacity and gave it ...life.

What I began saying here!!!! Was that The onamatpoeic in a Japanese poem can capture the imagination in the same way as music creating a communication beyond explanation. AnnW.
_____________
What I wrote back to the author:- Ann's
I have long read haiku poems, in the past 40 years or so, and every time my partner and I go out in the woods, we come up with haiku-like thoughts. "That would make a haiku," we say to each other, and think hard to find the right essential words to fit. It is the moment as you say, I always love the one that goes something like this:-

Bamboo shadows
brush the steps
but no dust stirs

Not sure whose (?)
There is so very much in it, a whole day, the moment of seeing the scene, we are in it and linger in it, even though it has so few words.

I myself must admit to not having been taught the basic manner of creating poetry, the rules; and tend, with my family's past - a father born 1898- to intuitively write what I do, without any regard for how I should limit myself to fit a particular form. it flows like a river of thoughts, inspired by nature, music, life, love, philosophy...
__________
An Italian:-

Poetry is as beautiful as a cathedral- an Italian poet woman wrote. 

It is true or ,at least, so it is for the poets.Poets are ,usually , wonderful people ,workers, they work for the good.And because they love poetry and to be authors. I do not know what you mean for mass culture.
_____________________
MY ANSWER TO THE ITALIAN

V.....ro,
If,
just if,
we take the tiny child
clack two stones together
and at the same time as reciting a poem;
or stopping and standing still with the child,
to listen to the wind in the trees,
then having done that
recite a beautiful, relevant poem,
of course one they could understand,
then the masses might,
just might,
have more sensitivity to poetry.

As it is, there are not enough teachers/mothers and fathers,
with this sensitivity,
these moments(precious)
in time,
that the haiku captures so succinctly,
the "poetry" passes them by,
like a silent flowing river
full of wonder.

Much more could be passed on to the child who on growing up could thereby build up a rich tapestry of thought in their minds, this would produce some wonderful poets, even from "the masses." I think.

The same goes for painting, all the arts of expression, they need to be awakened when little, to enrich our lives, as we feel this does now.

Ann
__________
K... R... :-
I've followed this discussion with avid interest. I feel there is a poetic response and a purely material matter-of-fact response to every situation or experience. It depends on how we take that situation or experience. Ann's last comment is very valid as regards the response of a poetic temperament. Yes, the intuitive approach to experiences in life leads to a poetic mood, in which life reveals itself in images.
__________________________
MY ANSWER TO K....R....:-

Thank you K, the key words of yours here are "in which life reveals itself in images." We are not satisfied as human beings, with things as they are, just look at all the religions in every sense of that word, although that is what haiku poems try to get back to? Through to, to express exactly that. What is, NOW. No trimmings, save those that enhance the precise meaning of the words so as to make a statement of pure fact strong enough to make an impact on our senses.

So-called romantic western poetry is less direct and embroiders the results much as the manuscripts, that we have seen many beautiful examples of here on Linked, are embellished with all manner of visual aids to bring about an understanding of the text.

Illusions. How we love illusions, and some people live an illusion, never really experiencing directly, in a mechanical manner, doing what they should, and not what their minds are inspired to create as a life.

My beginnings of "poetic" language, were at a boarding school, we had to write letters home each week, to our parents, which they read!!!! (Not the Siamese girl's as they couldn't, ha ha) I remembered the teachers being so very enthusiastic when I wrote something descriptive, so I plastered it on in full exaggeration, and they were so excited and pleased, I thought okay they can have it all.

My poetry still has this influence in it, but I hope not to dripping point!!! :) Accused of being a dreamer all my life, I find on analysis, I see reality very clearly, but can play with the illusions, as in painting, where to copy nature directly can be rewarding for learning of that nature, but isn't creative in the same manner as being influenced by nature to make something of one's own giving a greater satisfaction than mere mimicry.

Ann Waddicor/Nordic Cloud.

Not sure if I am out of place posting these comments, but they are so interesting as it gets down to the real essence of poetry.

Thank you Ian for visiting.