Gogyoshi Monthly Issue 3

Issue Three January 2016

Gogyoshi Monthly Issue Three January 2016

Declaration of Gogyoshi

What is Gogyoshi?

Gogyoshi is a poem written in five lines. Writing a poem in five lines is its only rule. The content of gogyohshi is free, its themes are chosen by the poet. There are other five-line poetries in the world, for example, gogyohka, tanka, cinquain, and limerick. These poetries have certain rules such as number of permitted syllables, line lengths, and rhyme. Gogyohshi has no such rules. It is the freest form of five-line poetry in the world. But gogyohshi doesn’t permit to be written in 4 or 6 lines, though gogyohka occasionally permits this. Gogyohshi is written only in five lines. If the poem is written in four lines, we should call it “Yongyohshi”meaning a poem written in four lines. If the poem is written in six lines, you should call it Rokugyohshi” meaning a poem … written in six lines. As for a title, some Japanese poets add it to gogyohshi and others don’t.I will always add a title to my Japanese and English gogyohshi because I can’t tell one gogyohshi from the other. If I add it to my many gogyohshi, I will be able to tell them apart. I will write a short title in all capital letters so that readers don’t misunderstand the title as one line of 6 lines poetry.

Gogyohshi is for me 5 lines poetry with a short title. But it isn’t the same as cinquain because it has no syllabic restraints unlike cinquain.

While Gogyohka is trademarked in Japan, gogyohshi is not so. Because Gogyohshi doesn’t belong to any special person but to everyone. Most Japanese gogyohka poets belong to gogyohka groups and follow the leaders of such groups. Most Gyohshi poets do not belong to any group and write as they please. In conclusion, among world five-line poetries, gogyohshi is closest to gogyohka in form. The primary differences between them lie in gogyohshi’s adherence to the rule of 5-line.

Adding a title to them depends on the poet. A gogyohshi poet has no rule except writing a poem in five lines. This is my Declaration of Gogyoshi.

Reproduced with the permission of Taro Aizu

Joann Grisetti once again morning opened up to sadness of a friend, her fetus discarded on the trash bin of oncelife

almost I am glad to suffer this broken leg I gain my silent son no longer hibernating in his computer

off balance crutches and a big cast he asks for a cup of tea and honey

And earth, sweet gentle earth harboring seeds beneath her spring makes anew why have you made me go farther than I was wont to go?

I savor the cold on my hot tongue riding with windows open winding through darkening woods seeking the blessings of ice cream

Ernesto P. Santiago

tirelessly tracking through the pages of life, this thirst to whosoever really craves the dream can see dream whosover dreams it whole

in every poem's breath the poet's secret a soul naked as morning light very few seem to know ah, (t)his so-called God

purified by God's tears autumn colored leaves scent the unbidden flashes of the past, the outline of future our lips lust

in worship services my body, mind, and soul how they really need hearing one right after the other the rooster's crowing

it is such a grace that I've learned to see with my emotions all four seasons have ups and downs of life

Taro Aizu

St. Naum's monastery in Macedonia

The sacred beauty Of wall paintings in St. Naum Charmed not only Christians But non-Christians.

It’s a treasure for all humans.

Ramona Linke

weekly market on a rack candles with coffee beans granny loved it too slurping from the saucer

dinner dance like always he loosens the knot of the tie ...the rustling of silk at the graduation ball

Marilyn Fleming thunder clouds— fingers pressed to her lips staying the words I was sat down hard my bones in fossil

pipe in my mouth watching a feather fall— call of a macaw into purple darkness I step out of my skin

feathers wild pouring dust on their heads— for a moment a pottery artist throwing clay on the wheel

late at night rubbing two sticks together— the weight of fire with winter upon him his old bones cold and stiff

downward facing dog in the shade of the plum— picking season I pull up the ladder limbs resting for a bit