This essay developed from my introduction for a breakout session at a writers' conference. |
Adventures in Haiku, A Western Perspective - by James Fox (word count 950) Many writers today present Haiku as free verse, covering a myriad of subjects. Although many readers, myself included, enjoy modern Haiku verses, I feel there is greater gentleness and artistic challenge when composing Haiku in a traditional format. Choosing to compose Haiku in this style has proven successful for me, and I encourage you to try writing examples of traditional Haiku. Originating in 17th century Japan, traditional Haiku was recognized as unrhymed verse of seventeen sounds, or syllables. While modern Haiku has evolved somewhat from the traditional syllable count, Haiku continues to uphold themes such as nature, moments in time, and juxtaposed subjects. Steeped in Japanese culture and traditional nuances, Haiku can be formidable for western writers, yet many enjoy this challenge and delight in a finished poem. Traditional Haiku verse, written in English, was usually composed of three lines, having five, seven, and five syllables, respectively. The poem usually alludes to nature and Kigo, defined as a word, or words, establishing a season of the year. Although the verse is unrhymed, each line strives to be a complete thought, with one line usually composed so as to create a juxtaposition of perception for the reader. But traditional Japanese Haiku does not limit this moment to the last line. Instead it utilized Kireji, a category of words that add structural support, or provide a dignified end to the poem. Lacking this specific formatting in English, kireji is sometimes represented by punctuation; typically, by a dash or ellipsis, or rarely, with an exclamatory participle such as how or so. For example; So refreshing. How stately. Imagery will help one compose the poem. I think of Haiku as a walk through a Japanese tea garden. The tranquil path goes forth then suddenly turns and one sees perhaps a waterfall, or a pagoda. Maybe a statue hewn from rock. Or a pond, with waters rippled by colorful Koi fish; something that is juxtaposed against the tranquility of the gentle walk. That sudden turn, for me, is representative of kireji, perception, subtly built by the poetic structure. While traditional Haiku was written in one line and not titled, western writers usually do title their poems. However, writers should not structure the title as part of the poem. Also, they should avoid using a title that discloses the moment of enlightenment. Traditional Haiku was intended to be read with one breath. Brevity was key. Composition of Haiku is indeed hard work, but shouldn't writers take on a challenge once in a while? Years ago, my Haiku “Wings” was published in Potpourri Magazine. I had structured the poem following the guidelines to meet the classical form of Haiku. This I hoped would ensure selection by the judging panel. I always suggest reading submission guidelines carefully in any writing challenge as a guide for success, especially when publication is the goal. Wings - James Fox Wings beat forgiveness White cranes grow one thousand strong Paper creased - folded Analyzing the structure, note the beginning line. “Wings beat forgiveness.” In many eastern cultures it is the crane, rather than the dove, that is the bird of peace. With that imagery to begin the poem, one can envision the writer perhaps viewing a bird of peace just beyond the window. “White cranes grow one thousand strong.” In the spring, cranes congregate at their nesting grounds, filling the sky as they wheel about with their majestic wings spread. This line added kigo, the seasonal element, usually found in traditional Haiku. “Paper creased - folded.” This is the juxtaposition of the poem against the reader's perception. I debated inserting a dash, but this use of keriji seemed necessary. Traditional Haiku sometimes uses a “cutting word” or a dash as keriji to create the inspiration or enlightenment within the poem. While readers may still envision the writer watching cranes beyond the window, I hoped they now realize the writer is folding origami cranes with wings outstretched. Is it a child, wishing for health and happiness? Or, perhaps a broken-hearted lover hoping to mend a relationship? This insertion of the human element may also cross into Senryu, a cousin of Haiku, usually based on presenting the foibles of human nature in the last stanza. While working on this Haiku, I relied upon a Japanese legend that folding one thousand paper cranes may grant a wish. First, I needed the readers to envision the cranes' nesting grounds of early spring. Then in the last line, I created the juxtaposition of the creased and folded paper of an origami sculpture, which hopefully causes the readers to ponder this re-creation of nature. This poem later was chosen to introduce “The Written Word” exhibits at the Sandhill Crane Festival in Lodi, California. For this author, that was more gratifying than the original publication, as I felt my poem had endured, had lived on, long after the ink had dried. Among the other “The Written Word” authors, I attended the opening of the festival exhibits, where I actually folded several origami cranes at a hands-on exhibit table. For another Haiku composition I submitted to Haiku Journal, I again chose a traditional Haiku style. When reading, do you hear classical elements? What creates a seasonal element? Secret Path - James Fox Secret woodland path Golden doe and spotted fawn Hush - Footfalls pass by Now, perhaps envision a pebble strewn brook in the city park. Or maybe a lonely raven cawing on the Alaskan tundra. Or rugged cliffs buttressed against a raging sea. Where do your thoughts of nature lead you? Why not accept this writing challenge? Enjoy the adventures you will find in composing Haiku! Another version of this essay was published as Traditional Haiku - A Western Perspective in the poetry section of the Showbear Family Circus |