Jack Kerouac – Analyzing A Haiku Poem

I am interested in the haiku below in connection with his philosophy and the fact that he wanted to do good and promote his life to that end especially in his travels around from East to West in the USA.

He had a religious upbringing and a strong connection to Christianity as shown in this text courtesy of Wikipedia –

According to Kerouac, On the Road “was really a story about two Catholic buddies roaming the country in search of God. And we found him. I found him in the sky, in Market Street San Francisco (those 2 visions), and Dean (Neal) had God sweating out of his forehead all the way. THERE IS NO OTHER WAY OUT FOR THE HOLY MAN: HE MUST SWEAT FOR GOD. And once he has found Him, the Godhood of God is forever Established and really must not be spoken about.”According to his biographer, historian Douglas Brinkley, On the Road has been misinterpreted as a tale of companions out looking for kicks, but the most important thing to comprehend is that Kerouac was an American Catholic author – for example, virtually every page of his diary bore a sketch of a crucifix, a prayer, or an appeal to Christ to be forgiven.

The bottom of my shoes
are clean
from walking in the rain

He wanted to travel on the road from urban New York which he found debilitating. So, you could read these words in a literal sense and consider this as he dispensed with any urban dirt that had offended his shoes as he moved into a rural area.

But you also could look at these words in a spiritual way and view his travels akin to missionary work. When Jesus’ disciples entered a house, they were instructed to offer a blessing of peace. This gesture not only established goodwill but also reflects the essence of Jesus’ message of reconciliation and harmony. The disciples met both acceptance and rejection. While whole towns rejected some individuals nevertheless were converted. When a household did not accept the offering of peace and love Jesus told the disciples to shake of the dust from their sandals (Matthew 10 -14). A metaphoric example of the disciples continuing onwards regardless in the purity of the spirit. You could say to alleviate any contamination so that they were still whole and fully focused on their work.

The feet and soles of footwear have great significance in the Bible. I don’t know offhand why that word sole was chosen.

Apart from that spiritual interpretation moving on in life after meeting a nasty is always an issue. Get involved in something so that your mind is cleared. If you are travelling there is always a new landscape. And of course, if you have a conversation with a friend who shares your outlook that is always a comfort.

I am reminded of the guy who was very near death. And on that very departure day he requested he wear a clean white shirt.

And forgetting involvement in analysis it is always wonderful to go walking or jogging in the rain. And if you are happy in that regard, it promotes a discard of business clutter elsewhere in life especially if communing with nature.

And as background some details in relation to haiku …

Apart from his groundbreaking Beat Generation novel On the Road, Jack Kerouac was also a master of the haiku. He incorporated nearly 1,000 American haiku pops across his writing.



And from Wikipedia … Jean-Louis Lebris de Kérouac[1] (/ˈkɛru.æk/;[2] March 12, 1922 – October 21, 1969), known as Jack Kerouac, was an American novelist and poet[3] who, alongside William S. Burroughs and Allen Ginsberg, was a pioneer of the Beat Generation.[4]

He is mainly known for his book ‘On The Road’.

The Good Life – Tracy K. Smith – Analysis

The Good Life

When some people talk about money
They speak as if it were a mysterious lover
Who went out to buy milk and never
Came back, and it makes me nostalgic
For the years I lived on coffee and bread,
Hungry all the time, walking to work on payday
Like a woman journeying for water
From a village without a well, then living
One or two nights like everyone else
On roast chicken and red wine.

Tracy K. Smith (1972 -

.. the relationship we have with money … if money is our lover and we pander and waste our lives in this partnership then we lose ourselves … there are more things much more important than money … than the chase and desire that can tarnish our golden search

… but the poet is nostalgic for a different approach … when money was secondary … and those times when money did come through hard work and when roast chicken and wine came it was appreciated so much more … a greater celebration that warms the soul … and that may be what a good life is … a well-earned satisfying life!

… it is like working hard for something by yourself without help from others persevering and accepting the challenge and then when you have eventually completed a task the reward and joy in accomplishment is so great … this is the great negative in having things done for you in using AI the achievement can be very shallow and not the same … I guess it is a question of how much of AI went into a joint accomplishment … but it can diminish the extent of thinking required in achieving your outcome.

My advice is to think very carefully in the response from AI and be prepared for further research if you need to explore the truth behind the AI generated text. AI encourages laziness. In contrast poetry can make you think … and often gives a different perspective on life

… here is another AI poem where this diminishment in the joy of accomplishment is explored … ‘Eventually’ – the AI encroachment | my word in your ear

Tracy K. Smith (born April 16, 1972) is an American poet and educator. She served as the 22nd poet laureate of the United States from 2017 to 2019 … more information on Wikipedia

The Prayer of St Aidan of Lindisfarne – Exploration

The Prayer of St Aidan of Lindisfarne

Leave me alone with God
as much as may be. 
As the tide draws the waters close in 
upon the shore, 
make me an island, set apart, 
alone with You, O God, holy to You. 
Then with the turning of the tide,
 prepare me to carry Your presence 
to the busy world beyond, 
the world that rushes in on me, 
till the waters come again and fold me
back to You. 

Aidan of Lindisfarne

   
From Wikipedia ...

Aidan of Lindisfarne[a] (Irish: Naomh Aodhán; died 31 August 651) was an Irish monk and missionary credited with converting the Anglo-Saxons to Christianity in Northumbria. He founded a ministry cathedral on the island of Lindisfarne, known as Lindisfarne Priory, served as its first bishop, and travelled ceaselessly throughout the countryside, spreading the gospel to both the Anglo-Saxon nobility and the socially disenfranchised (including children and slaves)

This prayer is all about going out in the world to do good … then coming back home to recover, regenerate, revitalize … enjoying being at home … and all that this entails … then returning into the world to continue in doing good … so in a way this prayer is all about a life journey … with suitable time out.

The journey represented metaphorically by the continual motion of the sea. Although it was written in the spiritual life of Lindisfarne centuries ago it has wider context to the way we live our lives. In a physical sense it is not always possible to connect to the wider world when there is water on the causeway.

There are several different texts on the Internet with slight variations in the wording. And the following is an extension to the prayer above …

You alone I follow, Lord Jesus;
You heal my wounds.
For what shall separate me from the love of God,
which is in You? Shall tribulation, or distress,
or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or sword?
O Lord Jesus Christ,
I approach Your banquet table in fear and trembling,
for I am a sinner,
and dare not rely on my own worth
but only on Your goodness.
Breathe in me, O Holy Spirit,
that my thoughts may all be holy.
Act in me, O Holy Spirit,
that my work, too, may be holy.
Draw my heart, O Holy Spirit,
that I may love You and serve You faithfully.
Watch, O Lord, with those who wake,
or watch, or weep tonight,
and give Your angels charge over those who sleep.
O Lord Jesus, let me know myself and You,
and desire nothing save only You.
Let me hate myself and love You.
Let me do everything for the sake of You.
For Your mercy’s sake, O Lord my God,
tell me what You are to me. Say to my soul, ‘I am your salvation.’
So speak that I may hear, O Lord; my heart is listening.
You are Christ, my Holy Father, my Tender God, my Great King,
my Good Shepherd, my Only Master, my Best Helper,
my Most Beautiful and my Beloved, my All.”

This is an image from a Stained-Glass window in New York …

Screenshot

My mistress’ eyes are nothing like the sun – Shakespeare

Shakespeare’s sonnet 130 is a little different from many more popular sonnets and the summer day comparison –

My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun;

My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun;
Coral is far more red than her lips' red;
If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun;
If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head.
I have seen roses damasked, red and white,
But no such roses see I in her cheeks;
And in some perfumes is there more delight
Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks.
I love to hear her speak, yet well I know
That music hath a far more pleasing sound;
I grant I never saw a goddess go;
My mistress, when she walks, treads on the ground.
   And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare
   As any she belied with false compare.

William Shakespeare (1564 - 1616)

All aspects of her face are decried in in the first stanza. In the second stanza a case of body odour. And in the third stanza the decry of her voice. And it looks as though she could be flat footed. Not a pretty picture. However, Shakespeare does open with the first line of that stanza saying I love to hear her voice. The rhyming couplet states that despite all the comparisons in the aforementioned stanzas she is incomparable and rare. A unique being that he loves.

Why do we … compare ourselves with others … always look for ways to improve ourselves … are seldom happy with the way we are … always seeking perfection … perhaps subtle where change is gently mentioned … trying to improve relationships … on a reciprocal basis of course!

Well, despite such considerations when we look at those we love and those close to us, we are usually more caring. The great contrast in the rhyming couplet is to give acceptance of traits and shortcomings. In this poem they are highly valued. To the extent of showing incomparable appreciation to one very precious person.

As Well as They Can – A. D. Hope

On life and poetry creation … making the most of a situation … surviving the event …

As Well as They Can

As well as it can, the hooked fish while it dies,
Gasping for life, threshing in terror and pain,
Its torn mouth parched, grit in its delicate eyes,
Thinks of its pool again.

As well he can, the poet, blind, betrayed
Distracted by the groaning mill, among
The jostle of slaves, the clatter, the lash of trade,
Taps the pure source of song.

As well I can, my heart in this bleak air,
The empty days, the waste rights since you went,
Recalls your warmth, your smile, the grace and stir
That were its element.

A.D. Hope (1907 - 2000)

There are three separate stanzas dealing with survival in some form in different situations. The first stanza is all about a fish fighting to live. In this situation we, the fisherman or lady, are in control whether the fish lives or dies. If the fish is undersised it should be thrown back. We all desire to live, at least until something might happen and we are in such pain we just want to be released from suffering. The fish is no different.

In the second stanza the poet wants to survive as a poet. The poet is after the pure source of song and is continually detracted by the shortcomings of others and their unfitting behavior in the advance of what he or she wishes to say. Towards the truth or the truth within that the poet wants to reveal. It is difficult when frustrated and not being able to find the appropriate words that reflect the purpose of the poem and how it will be perceived by the reader. And being genuine to our self is not easy. Poets often confront the established view and sometimes suffer for such expression.

In the closing stanza the poet recalls the precious moments with those that are deeply loved. This is dealing with grief, the ongoing struggle to keep going after loss. The heart is in bleak air and the days empty.

In summary the poem is all about doing as well as we can, doing our best as we experience life. And interestingly the fish does the best in the same pursuit with not the same recognition.

A. D. hope an Australian poet who came to Canberra as the first professor of English at Canberra University. He is highly regarded as a poet, more details on Wikipedia – A. D. Hope on Wikipedia


The End – A. A. Milne

The End

When I was One,
I had just begun.

When I was Two,
I was nearly new.

When I was Three,
I was hardly me.

When I was Four,
I was not much more.

When I was Five,
I was just alive.

But now I am six,
I'm as clever as clever

So I think I'll be six now
Forever and ever.

A. A. Milne (1882 - 1956)

A. A. Milne is most celebrated for his children’s books inspired by his son, Christopher Robin Milne. The character Christopher Robin and the teddy bear Winnie-the-Pooh were based on his son and his toys, with the bear inspired by a real bear named Winnipeg at the London.

A simple six stanza poem, each of two rhyming lines based on the passage of time and the innocence of childhood. The poem begins with a child’s recollection of early life from the age of one to that of reaching six. The structure and playful tone capture the childhood mind.

Of course, a six-year-old child is not inclined to reflect back on life. One of that age is only concentrated on moving foreward to the next day. And one certainly not able to produce such humour reflected in the words of the poem. The first five stanzas stress the fact that the child is barely alive. The contrast in the next stanza is so marked. He or she is clever and has discovered cleverness by doing something specific perhaps. But this maybe a little trying for his or her parents. Especially if the child has been terribly annoying like working out how to open a cupboard! Humour comes in the closing stanza with a wish to stay clever for ever and ever.

If we take any journey in life over a short period while learning and being educated, we may reach that clever state too – hopefully not with arrogance but with the happiness that seems to be articulated in the poem. Of course, as we get older, we often reflect back on life. We may still feel regret of something that has happened. It can continue to colour our daily life. The clever thing is to dismiss it from thought and move on.

In some way this poem is a bit like the climbing of a high mountain. On the way reaching a plateau. A place where you want to stop and rest and stay where you are. At the same time being pleased with the initial achievement; with a reluctance to proceed to the next stage of the uphill track. I think we continue to be challenged in one way or another no matter our age. As we ger older perhaps the plateau is a rest in the evening after an exacting day and the need for a good sleep.

A. A. Milne on Wikipedia.

To the Foot From its Child – Pablo Neruda







To the Foot From Its Child

A child's foot doesn't know it's a foot yet
And it wants to be a butterfly or an apple
But then the rocks and pieces of glass,
the streets, the stairways
and the roads of hard earth
keep teaching the foot that it can't fly,
that it can't be a round fruit on a branch.
Then the child's foot
was defeated, it fell
in battle,
it was a prisoner,
condemned to life in a shoe.

Little by little without light
it got acquainted with the world in its own way
without knowing the other imprisoned foot
exploring life like a blind man.

Those smooth toenails
of quartz in a bunch,
got harder, they changed into
an opaque substance, into hard horn
and the child's little petals
were crushed, lost their balance,
took the form of a reptile without eyes,
with triangular heads like a worm's.
And they had callused over,
they were covered
with tiny lava fields of death,
a hardening unasked for.
But this blind thing kept going
without surrender, without stopping
hour after hour.
One foot after another,
now as a man,
or a woman,
above,
below,
through the fields, the mines,
the stores, the government bureaus,
backward,
outside, inside,
forward,
this foot worked with its shoes,
it hardly had time
to be naked in love or in sleep
one foot walked, both feet walked
until the whole man stopped.

And then it went down
into the earth and didn't know anything
because there everything was dark,
it didn't know it was no longer a foot
or if they buried it so it could fly
or so it could
be an apple.

Pablo Neruda, translated by Jodey Bateman

Looking at the first stanza … this is all about growing up … accepting who we are and not what we would like to be … in life perhaps … and with time we become molded by the constraints of who we are … eventually fitting into life after the repeated exercise of experience … but do we become defeated when we can’t be something different …

Then the sorry tell of a forced existence … a forced way of life being led this way and that way … over the rough ground … and hopefully some smooth ground too … it became hardened nailed to life – if you excuse the pun … it became toughened to life … perhaps that is what happens all the time with the body that suffers the consequences of living … I won’t mention the state of my left knee which is yelling at me at the moment to be something different

In the second stanza there is another side to the situation … a brother if you like who has been through the same restrictive experiential existence … and has had to adapt too … was this brother more accepting … who knows? … but it is always nice having someone close by all the time to keep you in balance … and there is reciprocate behavior …so that in unison ground is covered so to speak … but perhaps the brother foot led the way and forced the child foot into following … partnership can be one sided …

In the end the foot had to come to rest … what was it like at the end of the journey … and what was the end … it was returned to what it might become … a touch of reincarnation … or perhaps an unknown spiritual afterlife … so many people die wishing to be blessed with something better … sadly, in the past Church congregations paid money with that thought in mind … not too mention terrorists who hoped to be rewarded after performing ugly violent acts.

Looking at the structure. This poem is an example of an unusual extended personal personification of how part of a body evolves in a life-time … it is up to the reader to extend the thought into how we adapt to experience and how we try to cope if we cannot be what we want to be … how we accept who we are under the circumstances of our existence … and how we work together in unison with the body of life … and whether we are connected to a soul-mate to lead us


Here is another poem that follows on from the last stanza. Albeit a gentle welcoming ending to life. A classic example of extended personification – Emily Dickinson’s poem “Because I could not stop for Death — He kindly stopped for me —”

In this poem, Death is personified as a polite, gentle gentleman who arrives in a carriage and takes the speaker on a journey. Instead of being something frightening or abstract, Death behaves like a courteous companion. Death “kindly” stops and drives a carriage. It transforms fear of death into something calm and reflective. The entire poem continues this personification metaphor, making it richer and more meaningful.

‘A piece of paper’ – Julia Briggs

A piece of paper

I saw this black piece of paper
And it looked
Kind of lonely,
Like it needed someone
To talk to.

So I started to talk.
I told it about
School and trivial things,
And my need
For someone to talk to,

And in return
It told me about trees
And Autumn
And where it had come from.

The paper looked sad
When it told me about the
Wind in the trees
And the coming of man
Who had felled the tree,
And I felt ashamed.

Then I got angry.
I had problems enough
Without
Guilt.

I tore up the paper.
I tore up myself.

Julia Briggs (1943 - 2007)

From Wikipedia – Julia Ruth Briggs was an academic, literary critic and biographer who wrote about Virginia Woolf, children’s literature and English Renaissance theatre.

Julia Briggs

I found this poem in an anthology on poetic creation and how such a simple poem engenders thought by taking a simple object as the subject. In this case the irony is that the poem is all about not being able to write.

My immediate thoughts …

What kind of thinking does a simple object invoke?

If a simple object becomes personified does that engender more interest?

How does the colour of the object affect thought?

If a writer is unable to write, is he or she not full filling a role?

When a writer cannot write but should, or feels a must, is guilt the reaction?

When a great effort, or sacrifice, is made in order to produce something for us how do we feel when we fail to use it?

How do we deal with anger when we can’t do what we want to do?

Below is a detailed 10-point analysis using AI to explore these thought-provoking questions in relation to the text of the poem …

1. The Paper as a Mirror of the Self

The “conversation” is not really between a person and paper—it’s internal. The speaker projects onto the paper, then receives something back that feels external but is actually a deeper layer of awareness.

  • The paper first reflects loneliness (“it needed someone to talk to”)
  • Then becomes a listener
  • Then a moral witness (telling the story of the tree)

By the end, the paper is almost indistinguishable from the speaker’s conscience.

👉 This raises: Is creativity just a structured way of talking to oneself?


2. Writing as an Ethical Act

The shift in the poem is striking: from casual chatter → ecological awareness → guilt → anger → destruction.

The paper reminds the speaker:

  • It was a tree
  • It was taken, transformed, sacrificed

So writing is no longer neutral—it carries:

  • environmental cost
  • human intervention
  • transformation of nature into expression

👉 This adds a layer to your question:

When effort or sacrifice produces something for us, how do we feel when we fail to use it?

The poem suggests: we feel complicit.


3. Guilt vs. Avoidance

The emotional pivot is crucial:

“And I felt ashamed.
Then I got angry.”

This is psychologically sharp. The speaker:

  1. Feels guilt
  2. Rejects it (“I had problems enough”)
  3. Converts it into anger
  4. Destroys the source of guilt

👉 A classic defense mechanism:

  • guilt → discomfort → anger → destruction

So the act of tearing the paper is not random—it’s avoidance of responsibility.


4. Creative Block Reframed

Your question about writers who “cannot write but should” fits perfectly.

The poem suggests:

  • The block is not emptiness
  • It may be over-awareness
  • Or even ethical paralysis

The speaker can write—but what emerges is uncomfortable truth.

👉 So perhaps:

  • Writer’s block is sometimes not lack of ideas
  • But resistance to what we know we might uncover

5. Personification as a Moral Trigger

You asked whether personification increases engagement—here it does more than that.

By giving the paper a voice:

  • It becomes harder to ignore
  • It becomes a victim
  • It forces empathy

If the poem simply stated “paper comes from trees,” it wouldn’t land emotionally.

👉 Personification transforms:

  • fact → relationship
  • object → witness
  • material → moral presence

6. The Violence of the Ending

The final line is powerful:

“I tore up the paper.
I tore up myself.”

This equates:

  • destruction of the page
  • destruction of identity

Why?

Because the paper had become:

  • a listener
  • a conscience
  • a creative outlet

Destroying it = rejecting:

  • expression
  • responsibility
  • self-awareness

👉 It suggests: to silence truth, we damage ourselves.


7. The Color “Black”

You noted the color—this is subtle but meaningful.

“Black piece of paper” is unusual (we expect white). It might imply:

  • emptiness inverted
  • something already “marked” or heavy
  • emotional weight from the start

It sets a tone of:

  • melancholy
  • seriousness
  • perhaps even foreboding

8. Simplicity vs. Depth

The poem uses very simple language, almost childlike:

  • short lines
  • everyday vocabulary

Yet it deals with:

  • environmental ethics
  • guilt
  • identity
  • creative struggle

👉 This contrast mirrors the idea that:

profound realisations often arise from ordinary moments


9. The Role of Anger

Your final question is key:

How do we deal with anger when we can’t do what we want to do?

The poem shows one unhealthy path:

  • redirect anger toward something symbolic
  • destroy the medium
  • avoid the underlying issue

But it also implies an alternative (unstated):

  • stay with the discomfort
  • continue the “conversation”

10. A Final Thought

The poem might ultimately be about this tension:

To create is to confront truth.
To avoid truth is to destroy creation.

And the speaker chooses, momentarily, destruction.