Haiku and Senryu

One more time:

Among twenty snowy mountains,

the only moving thing

Was the eye of the blackbird.

See, you already know what a haiku is. You were probably introduced to them in elementary or at least middle school, but if not, then chapter two of this book was your haiku baptism. Especially if you could get into the imagistic spirit of Stevens’ poem.

Haiku, the ancient Japanese poem that is one of the shortest and purest of verbal forms, has been popular in the United States since the fifties, and continues to have many adherents. There are entire journals that publish only haiku. Here are four journals with an online presence that we like: Acorn: A Journal of Contemporary Haiku,  Frogpond: The Journal of the Haiku Society of America, 50 Haikus, and The Heron’s Nest. You could spend an hour browsing those journals and end up reading hundreds of haiku.

Haiku also has an old and storied history in Japan, and this history is personified in the figures of what the Japanese call the four masters, Matsuo Basho (1644-94), Yosa Buson (1716-84), Kobyashi Issa (1762-1826) and Masaoka Shiki (1867-1902). And while it certainly is not our purpose here to give you the entire history of the haiku, we’ll present a sample by each of them to help you get in the spirit of traditional haiku:

The cry of the cicada
Gives us no sign
That presently it will die

–Basho (translated by William George Aston)

I come weary,
In search of an inn—
Ah! These wisteria flowers!

–Basho (translated by William George Aston)

My two plum trees are
so gracious…see, they flower,
one now, one later

–Buson (translated by Peter Beilenson)

Ballet in the air…
Twin butterflies until, twice white
They meet, they mate

–Basho (translated by Peter Beilenson)

For a lovely bowl
Let us arrange these flowers…
Since there is no rice

–Basho (translated by Peter Beilenson)

A gate made all of twigs
With woven grass for hinges…
For a lock…this snail

–Issa (translated by Peter Beilenson)

By that fallen house
The pear-tree stands full-blooming …
An ancient battle-site

–Shiki (translated by Peter Beilenson)

Sadness at twilight…
Villain! I have let my hand
Cut that peony

–Buson (translated by Peter Beilenson)

As you can see, the haiku is a brief, imagistic picture based on close observation of the subject.  Technically speaking, the rules are rather strict:

1. Haiku have three lines, with the first having 5 syllables, the second 7, the third 5 again.
2. Haiku are usually about nature; often they revere nature.
3. Traditional haiku usually imply or state the season.
4. Haiku do not use figurative language: metaphor, simile.
5. Oftentimes the last line of the haiku will involve a turn, a tiny twist,a revelation, or a new way of seeing.

As with all rules, those of haiku are broken quite often. The 5-7-5 syllable count is quite loosely followed these days, and the first great American haiku, Ezra Pound’s “In the Station of the Metro,” doesn’t even have three lines:

The apparition of these faces in the crowd;
Petals on a wet, black bough.

Writing a traditional haiku is fine, but many students like to play with the content a bit so that the focus is more on humanity and less on nature. That’s also acceptable, and that’s where Senryu comes in. A Senryu is a humorous or satiric poem dealing with human affairs, usually written in the same form as the haiku.  Here’s one by an ex-student, John Lazenby:

She was beautiful,
helpless, alone; I changed that,
I gave her a dog.

John wasn’t real big on creative writing in general, as we remember. He used to celebrate some of our more stirring lessons on poetry by snoozing in the back of the room, but he did create this little gem.  It isn’t as imagistic as the usual haiku or senryu, and he doesn’t have a title (might we suggest “Love”?), but the piece works, and goshdarnit, that’s the final assessment. Our hat’s off to you, John, wherever you are snoozing these days.

Anyway, here are some more little nuggets–both haiku and senryu–from former students. Look ‘em over, because you know what you’re going to have to do for your next assignment when you’ve finished.

Cooling summer dark
Last dying embers fade slow
Fire flies are winking.

    –Naoko Akyama

Gazing at the stars
Diamonds in black velvet
An ache in my neck.

    –Naoko Akyama

Squirrel spies savory seed,
Sitting in the road.
Street Pizza.

    –Chantal Delettrez

Nervous small talk,
Edge closer, lips parted
Porch light flickers on.

    –Marcy Lockwood

Spider’s Web
Silvery spider’s web
Intricately delicate
Swept away by the maid.

    –Julie Daniels

Streaked window pane.
The roof, touched softly by rain.
Tin pots slowly fill.

    –Pat Latella

No title
Hot, wet, sticky undergarments
Wet with churning juices.
I finish the mile.

    –Mialisha Wright

Cold
Shivering, sneezing girl
In a deserted parking lot
Keys locked in car.

    –Tara Rabinowitz

Writing a haiku,
I don’t know where to begin.
I have just finished.

    –Laura Nail

Hooked foot, moving body.
An instant of panic before
My head paints brick.

    –Bennett Kilmer

Male Bonding
Huddles of men stand.
Bonding ancient in nature.
The urinals flush.

    –Owen McCormick

Lost
Farmland surrounding,
Lost in vast depths of nowhere.
Map read upside down.

    –Leeza Schirazi

Control
I must wear it daily
To hold them firmly in place.
Yes, my retainer.

    –Jessica Klein

I part my lips
And slightly tilt my head
Then throw up in the toilet.

    –Suzanne George

Children yawl and caterwaul
Derogatory names barked at one
A new football on the rooftop

    –Lisah J. Walden

Older
I’m five and all gwone up!
Mommy lets me use Oil of Olay . . .
Do I look any younger?

    –Terri Silverberg

Fire-sphere sunset
The ocean pulses rhythmically
Trash washes ashore

    –Rebekah Chodoff

Shimmering scaly goldfish
Within plastic utopia
Floats upside down.

    –Ryan Sias

I see you cruel spider
on the wall, waiting to devour
me when I sleep.

    –Teri Testa

Hike
An introspective walk thru woods,
Fulfilled, I return home, to hear
“Clean your feet off, boy.”

    –Ethan Swan Scahill

Wallflower, alone
sits in a darkened corner,
hears silent music.

    –Michelle Rick

made with love
extended hug: heat-
held nest of mothering folds
knitted cotton kiss

    –Rachel Galvin

..and check out Frogpond’s Museum of Haiku Literature Award winners here.

…and these samples from Acorn.