Prompt #261 – Haiku, Related Forms, & How To

I'm leading a haiku retreat on Saturday, hosted by Tiferet Journal,  and I thought this might be a good time to do some haiku work here on the blog! 

  Haiku and Related Forms

Haiku

Haiku, a minimalist form of poetry, has enjoyed considerable popularity among modern poets. Allen Ginsberg and Pulitzer Prize winner Paul Muldoon, wrote collections of haiku and haiku-like poems are found in the works of such literary notables as Ezra Pound, Amy Lowell, Richard Wright, and Gary Snyder. During the 1960s, a haiku movement began in the United States, which catapulted haiku into popular consciousness. Since then, haiku has been widely taught in schools, and hundreds of haiku journals have published the works of numerous haiku poets. The Haiku Society of America, Inc. was established in 1968 and continues with a membership of many hundreds. 

Although something other than "mainstream" poetry and very much its own genre, haiku are compact and direct, and are usually written in the present tense with a sense of immediacy and of being “in the moment.” The natural world and our responses to it are integral to haiku. While haiku appear to be light and spontaneous, their writing requires profound reflection and discipline.  Haiku are about spiritual realities, the realities of our every-day lives, and the realities of human and natural world relationships. Most importantly, haiku honor the inside of an experience through attention to the outside.

Despite the brevity of its form, haiku inspire detachment as well as interrelationship detachment without self-interest or self-absorption but, rather, with a sense of inward and outward direction. the best haiku are life-affirming and eternity-conscious, spontaneous and unpretentious but entirely focused and either gently or startlingly profound. Through haiku, both the writer and the reader are invited to reflect upon minute details that lead them to larger realities. 

Haiku's origins have been traced to a form of Japanese poetry known as haikai no renga, a form of linked poetry that was practiced widely by Matsuo Basho and his contemporaries. Over time, the first link in a renga, the hokku, evolved into the haiku as we understand it today.

In traditional Japanese, the haiku was typically written vertically on the page  (from top to bottom). Each contained seventeen onji or sound symbols. The onji were usually divided into 3 sections, with the middle one being slightly longer than the others, and often with a pause at the end of the first or second section to divide the haiku into two thoughts or images. These thoughts or images contrasted or pooled to create a sense of insight or heightened awareness and usually involved nature. A kigo (season word) was used to indicate the season or time of year.

However, early translators were mistaken when they assumed that an onji was equivalent to a syllable in the English language and that haiku should be written in three lines containing 5,7,and 5 syllables respectively. Although incorrect, these “defining” qualities of haiku are still accepted by many. A more acceptable standard for English-language haiku is 10-20 syllables in 3 lines having a longer second line and shorter first and third lines. That said, the parameters are often stretched depending on content and meaning, and successfully experimental haiku of a single words have been written. Three lines have become the norm, but haiku of one and two lines are also seen, although less frequently. Typically, haiku contain two phrases (or images) that are inherently unrelated but are juxtaposed to show some commonality within a particular experience.

Haiku describe things in a vey few words, usually a in a single image – haiku never tell, intellectualize, or state feelings outrightly. They never use figures of speech (similes, metaphors, etc.) and should not rhyme. Some haiku poets feel that one measure of a haiku’s success is its ability to be reading in a single breath.

  

Haiku Sequences

Haiku can be linked together to form a sequence that moves from moment to moment in a perceived experience. A good haiku sequence is built on an idea that underscores the sequence and becomes a longer poem. That is, haiku (or haiku-like verses) fused to form an integrated whole. Depending upon the content of the individual haiku, it’s important to have a central idea or theme in a haiku sequence: nature in general or something specific in the natural world, love (or another emotion), a season, a journey (actual or spiritual), or any part of life that is common to each haiku in the sequence.

A great way to begin experimenting with sequences is to think in terms of a narrative approach in which order of the haiku follow the chronological arch of the event:  beginning, middle and end.

Senryu

A senryu is a poem, structurally similar to haiku, that highlights the foibles of human nature, usually in a humorous or satiric way. In senryu, human nature is more essential, and the poem itself is more playful, humorous, or ironic. A senryu may or may not contain a season word or a grammatical break. Some Japanese senryu seem more like aphorisms, and some modern senryu in both Japanese and English avoid humor, becoming more like serious short poems in haiku form. There are also "borderline haiku/senryu", which may seem like one or the other, depending on how the reader interprets them. Many so-called "haiku" in English are really senryu. Loosely defined, senryu are haiku-like poems that deal most specifically with human nature. In Japanese, the word "senryu" sounds like the English phrase "send you" with a Spanish flipped-r in place of the d. For those unfamiliar with this sound, a three-syllable word, "sen-ri-you" may be substituted in English. 

Tanka

Tanka, the 5-line lyric poem of Japan is like haiku, its shorter cousin, in that they are grounded in specific images but are also is infused with lyric intensity and intimacy that comes from the direct expression of emotions, as well as from implication, suggestion, and nuance. The tanka aesthetic, however, is broader. You can write on virtually any subject and express your thoughts and feelings explicitly. 

The third line of a tanka may be a “pivot line” or turning point similar to the shift in a haiku. In Japan, tanka is often written in one line with segments consisting of 5-7-5-7-7 sound-symbols. Some people write English tanka in five lines with 5-7-5-7-7 syllable to approximate the Japanese model. To approximate the Japanese model, some poets use approximately 20-22 syllables and a short-long-short-long-long structure or even just a free form structure using five lines. You may wish to experiment with all these approaches.

Haibun

A haibun is a terse, relatively short prose poem that typically ends with a haiku. Most haibun range from well under 100 words to 200 or 300. Some longer haibun may contain a few haiku interspersed between sections of prose. In haibun, the connections between the prose and any included haiku may not be immediately obvious, or the haiku may deepen the tone, or take the work in a new direction, recasting the meaning of the prose. Japanese haibun apparently developed from brief prefatory notes occasionally written to introduce individual haiku, but soon grew into a distinct genre. The word "haibun" is sometimes applied to longer works, such as the memoirs, diaries, or travel writings of haiku poets, though technically they are parts of the separate and much older genres of journal and travel literature (nikki and kikôbun).

 

How To Haiku

1. Bashō said that each haiku should be a thousand times on the tongue. Before writing anything, read many haiku from a range of sources to get a “feel” for the form. Be sure to read some haiku that have been translated from the Japanese, but spend more time on good haiku written in English. Read some of the haiku aloud.

2. After you’ve read many haiku and have a sense of what they’re about, think about an experience that you’ve had. 

3. Remember the season in which you had the experience, and then think of a work or phrase that suggests that season. For example, peonies is a season word for spring; snow and ice are season words for winter. A simple phrase like “autumn leaves” can evoke feelings of loneliness and the coming of darkness (shortened days, longer nights) in winter. While many haiku appear to have a nature focus, they are more-specifically based on a seasonal reference that is not necessarily about nature.

4. Organize your thoughts into approximately three lines. First, set the scene, then suggest a feeling and, finally, make an observation or record an action. Use only the most absolutely necessary words. Write in the present tense, don’t use figures of speech, and keep things simple.

5. Be sure to include a contrast or a comparison. Many haiku present one idea for the first two lines and then switch quickly to something else in the third. Alternatively, a single idea is presented in the first line and a switch occurs in the second and third lines. Nearly every haiku has this kind of two-part, juxtapositional structure. A Japanese haiku achieves the shift with what is called a kireji or cutting word, which “cuts” the poem into two parts. One of your goals is to create a “leap” between the two parts of your haiku. Creating a haiku’s two-part structure can become a balancing act because it’s difficult to create just the right equilibrium without making too obvious a connection between the two parts or leaping to a distance that’s unclear or obscure. At the same time, you must work toward sparking the emotions (not ideas) that you want to communicate.

6. Try to think of haiku in terms of your five senses—things you experience directly, not ideas or your interpretation or analysis of “things.” Think in terms of sensory description and avoid subjective terms.

7. In a nutshell: 

·       focus on a single moment (detach from everything else); recreate that moment in words,

·       write simply and clearly,

·       forget about 5,7,5 syllabic structure (start with about 10-20 syllables in three-line format),

·       include a season word,

·       make sure you create a two-part juxtapositional structure,

·       include a shift between the two parts of your haiku,

·       avoid figures of speech, rhyming, anything forced or contrived.

 

Ways in Which Writing Haiku Can Inform and Enhance Your Longer Poems

     Writing haiku can:

1.     Increase your sense of imagery.

2.     Broaden your awareness of—and attention to—details.

3.     Teach you about compression, conciseness, and clarity.

4.     Help you understand the importance of removing unnecessary words.

5.     Develop your ability to write poems that are efficient and clear, even when their meaning and message are complex.

6.     Show you how to create lines breaks that have a clear and non-intrusive logic.

7.     Illustrate ways in which you can achieve clarity with just a hint of being on the edge of understanding.

8.     Form the basis for longer poems. That is, a haiku may be extended into a longer work of poetry; it may be become the opening, closing, or “somewhere inside” part of a longer poem.

9.     Work toward your understanding that the best poems show rather than tell.

10.  Improve your ability to connect, reveal, and surprise.

Prompt #187 – Haiku: Honoring the Art of Detachment

 

Haiku’s origins have been traced to a form of Japanese poetry known as haikai no renga, a kind of linked poetry that was practiced widely by Matsuo Bashō (1644-94) and his contemporaries. Over time, the first link in a renga, the hokku, evolved into the haiku as we understand it today. A minimalist form of poetry, haiku has been popular among modern poets since the 1960s, when a western-world haiku movement generated increased interest in the form. Allen Ginsberg, Jack Kerouac, Gary Snyder, Billy Collins, John Ashbery, and Paul Muldoon have written haiku, and haiku-like poems are found in the works of such literary greats as Ezra Pound, Amy Lowell, and Richard Wright. Although something other than “mainstream” poetry and very much its own genre, haiku is a unique and demanding form to master.

In traditional Japanese, the haiku is typically written vertically on the page  (from top to bottom). Each haiku contains seventeen onji (sound symbols). However, early translators were mistaken when they assumed that onji were equivalent to syllables in the English language and that haiku should be written in three lines containing 5,7, and 5 syllables respectively. Although incorrect, these “defining” qualities of haiku are still regarded as “haiku format” by many. A more acceptable standard for English-language haiku is 10-20 syllables in 3 lines with a longer second line and shorter first and third lines. That said, the parameters are often stretched depending on content and meaning. Three lines have become the norm, but haiku of one and two lines are also seen, and syllable count varies

Traditional haiku contain a kigo (season word) to indicate the season or time of year in which the haiku takes place, along with two phrases (or images) that are inherently unrelated but are juxtaposed to show some commonality within a particular experience. Normally, one idea is presented in the first two lines and then a switch occurs in the third. Alternatively, a single idea is presented in the first line and a switch occurs in the second and third lines. Nearly every haiku has this kind of two-part, juxtapositional structure. The shift is achieved with what is called a kireji or cutting word, which “cuts” the poem into two parts. The kireji is a kind of caesura (and similar in theory to the volta in a sonnet) that signals a pause in the poem’s “thought” and suggests a parallel to the preceding phrase, the following phrase, or provides a “dismount for the poem that offers a finely tuned sense of closure. 

Haiku is, in a sense, an art of detachment in which the poet is removed enough from the subject to write without self-interest or self-absorption but, rather, with a sense of both inward and outward direction. The best haiku are life-affirming and eternity-conscious, spontaneous and unpretentious but entirely focused and either gently or startlingly profound.

Note: The word haiku forms its own plural – haikus is incorrect.

Acknowledgment: The essay part of this prompt (above) first appeared in 

Tiferet: Literature, Art, & The Creative Spirit (Digital Issue, April 2014)

Guidelines:

1. Haiku describe things in a very few words – they never tell, intellectualize, or state feelings outrightly. They never use figures of speech (similes, metaphors, etc.) and should not rhyme.

2. Haiku is more than a simple genre or form of poetry—haiku is a way of seeing, a way of capturing experience, a kind of “aha” moment or instant when something in the ordinary captures our attention and leads us to a closer, more concentrated look at its connection to nature, and human nature.

3. Haiku don’t have titles, although haiku sequences do.

4. Brevity is key, along with a sense of immediacy (written in the present tense) and often a sense of relationship between nature and human nature. Some haiku poets feel that one measure of a haiku’s success is its ability to be read in a single breath. Most will agree that a successful haiku is characterized by crystal-cutting clarity and in-the-moment presence.

5. Haiku are about spiritual realities, the realities of our every-day lives, and the realities of human- and natural-world relationships. Most importantly, haiku honor the inside of an experience through attention to the outside.

6. Compact and direct, haiku appear to be light and spontaneous, but their writing requires careful reflection and discipline—haiku may even be considered a kind of meditation. Finely-tuned powers of observation reveal the haiku moments that happen continually in the world around us.

7. Don’t be bound by any notions of 5,7,5 syllable structure—focus instead on use of season words, two-part juxtapositions, and objective sensory imagery.

Tips:

1. Bashō said that each haiku should be “a thousand times on the tongue.” Before writing anything, read many haiku from a range of sources to get a “feel” for the form. Be sure to read some haiku that have been translated from the Japanese, but spend more time on good haiku written in English. Read some of the haiku aloud.

2. After you’ve read many haiku and have a sense of what they’re about, think about an experience you’ve had.

3. Remember the season in which you had the experience, and then think of a word or phrase that suggests that season. For example, peonies is a season word for spring; snow and ice are season words for winter. A simple phrase like “autumn leaves” can evoke feelings of loneliness and the coming of darkness (shorted days, longer nights) in winter. While many haiku appear to have a nature focus, they are more-specifically based on a seasonal reference that as much about nature as it is within nature.

4. Organize your thoughts into approximately three lines. First, set the scene, then suggest a feeling and, finally, make an observation or record an action.  Write in the present tense, don’t use figures of speech (similes, metaphors), and keep things simple.

5. Be sure to include a contrast or a comparison. Remember that haiku often present one idea in the first two lines and then switch quickly to something else in the third. One of your goals is to create a “leap” between the two parts of your haiku without making too obvious a connection between the parts or leaping to a distance that’s unclear or obscure. At the same time, you must reveal the emotions (not ideas) that you want to communicate without stating them overtly.

6. Try to think of haiku in terms of your five senses—things you experience directly, not ideas or your interpretation or analysis of “things.” Think in terms of sensory description and avoid subjective terms.

7. Spend time working on punctuation. In poems so brief, punctuation is important. Read some of the examples and see how other haiku poets make punctuation work for them in their haiku.

Examples:

From the Japanese Masters

Winter seclusion –

Listening, that evening,

To the rain in the mountain.

— Issa

My life, –

How much more of it remains?

The night is brief.

— Shiki

Over the wintry

forest, winds howl in rage

with no leaves to blow.

— Soseki

No one travels

Along this way but I,

This autumn evening.

— Bashō

Contemporary Haiku from Frogpond (Journal of the Haiku Society of America)

Frogpond 37.1 • Winter 2014

Frogpond 36.3 • Autumn 2013

Frogpond 36.2 • Summer 2013

Frogpond 36.1 • Winter 2013

Frogpond 35.3 • Autumn 2012

Frogpond 35.2 • Summer 2012

Frogpond 35.1 • Winter 2012

Frogpond 34.3 • Autumn 2011

Frogpond 34.2 • Summer 2011

Frogpond 34.1 • Winter 2011

Frogpond 33.3 • Autumn 2010

Frogpond 33.2 • Summer 2010

Frogpond 33.1 • Winter 2010

Frogpond 32.3 • Autumn 2009

Frogpond 32.2 • Summer 2009

Frogpond 32.1 • Winter 2009

Frogpond 31.3 • Autumn 2008

Frogpond 31.2 • Spring/Summer 2008

Click Here for Contemporary Haiku from Modern Haiku Magazine

  

And, by way of sharing, a few of my own:

migrating geese –

once there was so much

to say

       (1st Place Henderson Award, 1984, http://www.hsa-haiku.org/hendersonawards/henderson.htm#1984)

between the moon

and the billboard,

a jet liner rising

       (42^nd Street Art Project, displayed on the Rialto West Theater Marquee, NYC, 1994.)

a flurry of bats

and then

the Milky way

       (Haiku Quarterly, First Prize, Autumn 1989)

moonrise:

at the edge of the words,

we listen

      (From Castles and Dragons, 1990)

through darkness

churchbells on the cusp

of the hill

       (From Questi Momenti, 1990)

Poetry Prompt #66 - Solo Renga

For this week’s prompt, I thought you might enjoy something a little different – a solo renga. The renga, which originated hundreds of years ago in Japan, is typically a series of short verses linked into a longer poem and composed collaboratively by a group. In recent years, however, practitioners of the form have experimented with solo renga (that is, renga written by a single poet).

In any renga, each verse must make sense (stand on its own) individually but must also connect with the verses that precede and follow it. There is no narrative, sequential, or logical thread.  Figures of speech (similes, metaphors, etc.) and abstractions may be not used. In a classical renga, the standard form is a repeated pattern of three and then two lines. Over time, many structural standards (rules) were established, and renga process can be quite complicated. Renga often contain 100 verses; the great Japanese poet Matsuo Bashō, however, was partial to the kasen renga, which consists of 36 verses. A related form is the renku (Click Here to Read about Renku). 

The opening verse in a renga is called the hokku, which gave rise to the haiku (Click Here to Read about Haiku) and which shares the haiku form of three short lines with a seasonal reference. This verse and all that follow communicate details and emotion through images. Pure and simple.

Your renga may be as long or as short as you wish and, instead of working within a group of writers, you will write on your own. Our goal isn’t to be technical about the rules (or to be compelled or burdened by them) but, rather, to notice details, to focus on imagery, and to express feeling without using figurative language or conceptualizations. As you write, remember that the great delights of renga include a sense of continual surprise, distinctive imagery, and sudden or subtle insights (true of good poetry in general).

1. Go to a place in which you are relaxed (a room in your home, a park, the seashore), take a walk, lie in your hammock ­– you get the idea, right?

2. Reflect, meditate on your surroundings, and write your hokku or first verse: a season word included in a brief "note" on your surroundings.

3. Now, following the three-line, two-line format, begin linking. Write a two-line verse that connects to your first, and so on. Focus on images and avoid figurative language or abstractions.

4. Stop at any point that feels comfortable.

Examples of Renku:
http://sites.google.com/site/graceguts/collaborations/windswept-walk

http://www.hsa-haiku.org/einbondawards/einbond.htm

Related Reading:

http://www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/prmMID/5788

http://simplyhaiku.com/SHv7n1/renku/essay_art_solo.html