Haiku

by Megan Arkenberg

What are Haiku?

Haiku are short poems, often—but not always—written in three lines, that focus on images from the world around us. Historically, haiku dealt only with images from nature, but modern poets also include human interactions in their work. A successful haiku allows the writer to share an experience—a sight, a sound, a touch or feeling—with his or her reader, in such a way that the reader feels they too have experienced it. Curious? Here are a few examples:

clear winter sky
she answers my call
before the first ring

~Carolyn Hall
dust of summers: the red moon anthology 2007

old pond
a frog jumps into
the sound of water

~Matsuo Basho

end of the hour—
twilight shadows obscure
the therapist’s face

~James Chessing
The Haiku Anthology (3rd edition)

What do these three poems have in common? Not a syllable pattern—none of them follow the “traditional” pattern of 5-7-5 syllables. Not subject matter—one presents only natural images, one presents a mix of human experience and nature, and one includes no natural cues at all! What makes these three poems examples of the same genre—haiku—is the reader’s way of experiencing them.

Sound like a riddle? That’s because it is.

The Parts of Haiku

One of the most popular theories of haiku states that the poem should be written in two parts, the sorter section (often the first or last line) called the “fragment,” and the longer portion (the poem’s other two lines) called the “phrase.”
The two sections may be set apart by punctuation, as below:

New Year’s Eve—
rubbing velvet
the wrong way

~Megan Arkenberg
dust of summers; the red moon anthology 2007

The fragment typically avoids articles, such as “a,” “an,” and “the.” In English haiku that use a kigo (a word or phrase indicating what season the haiku occurs in: for example, “snow,” “thunder,” “spring,” “butterfly”), the kigo may form the fragment section. The fragment may be thought of as “setting the scene” for the phrase.

The phrase often contains the main image the haiku poet seeks to convey. Typically, this is the only part of the haiku to contain a verb, and the verb is almost always in present tense. The image should be strong or unique—why write a poem about a boring image?—but the quality of the haiku does not rely solely on the image’s emotional pull. For example:

alone
with the diagnosis
I hold my own hand

~hortensia anderson

winter’s end
scraping out marmalade
with a long spoon

~frances angela

While the image in the first poem is sharper emotionally, both are good haiku. So if the image isn’t what makes a haiku effective, what is?

This is where the riddle comes in.

The Aha! Moment

The third part of a haiku—the part that largely determines how effective the poem is—is not really identifiable as a “part” at all. It is the “aha! moment,” the moment occurring solely in the reader’s mind, where he or she suddenly grasps the main idea of the haiku. Perhaps the reader sees the connection between two previously unrelated concepts, or understands why the characters of the haiku behave as they do. In the aha! moment, the answer to the riddle of the haiku is revealed.

People—neither haiku writers nor readers are an exception—do not experience entire images at once. We see parts which slowly come together to make a whole, coherent experience. This is what haiku tries to mimic. For an example, let’s examine the aha! moments in two of the above haiku.

New Year’s Eve—
rubbing velvet
the wrong way

The aha! moment occurs at the end of this haiku. The image itself is an odd one—who knew there was a wrong way to rub velvet? But as the reader considers his own experiences, he realizes that there are two ways to do it: one that leaves the velvet lying smooth and flat, and one that makes the individual fibers stand on end, like a cluster of little blades. The reader suddenly “gets” the haiku, and feels that he has shared in the experience with the author.

There are other questions the haiku does not answer. What does the velvet belong to—a dress, a cushion, a length of fabric yet to be sewn? Who is doing the rubbing? There is also the other meaning of “rubbed the wrong way” to consider. Is this poem about a New Year’s encounter going askew? Though haiku are short poems, they are meant to resonate with the reader long after the first impression.

winter’s end
scraping out marmalade
with a long spoon

The riddle posed by this poem comes from the fact that no words are used in a haiku without purpose. So what is the significance of “long”? By considering the fragment, the reader realizes that this jar of marmalade had been served from all season, until the only way to get the last of the jam from the bottom is with a longer utensil. There is the suggestion that the speaker is “longing” for spring.

Writing Good Haiku

The best way to write good haiku is to be observant. Consider the experiences that seem strange to you—when someone takes your call before your phone has given off its first automated ring, or when you hear the sound of a pond that remains invisible—and think about how you can share them with others. Read published haiku to see which techniques and styles appeal to you. Most of all, practice. The more haiku you write, the more easily and skillfully you will be able to record your experiences.

Haiku Resources

On Writing:

Writing and Enjoying Haiku: a Hands-On Guide by Jane Reichhold. Published by Kodansha International, 2002.

Aha Poetry: www.ahapoetry.com

World Haiku Association: www.worldhaiku.net

Places to Read and Publish Haiku:

The Haiku Anthology (3rd Edition), edited by Cor van den Heuvel. Published by W.W. Norton & Company Inc, 1999.

The Red Moon Anthology, edited by Jim Kacien et al. Published annually by Red Moon Press, 1996—present.

World Haiku Review: www.worldhaikureview.org

Haiku Society of America: www.hsa-haiku.org

The Heron’s Nest haiku journal: www.theheronsnest.com

Simply Haiku: www.simplyhaiku.com

Megan Arkenberg is a student in Milwaukee, Wisconsin, where she writes fantasy fiction and short form poetry. Her work has recently appeared in Aoife's Kiss, Byzarium, 3Lights Gallery and Modern English Tanka. When not writing, she can be found painting, playing piano, or editing the fantasy e-zine Mirror Dance .

 

 

  

 


For more information, email Kelly at poet_kelly@yahoo.com.

Copyright © 2005 by Kelly D. Morris. Poet's Ink is a registered trademark of Kelly D. Morris.  All rights reserved.