Following the Rules

Last spring, I wrote about exchanging Haikus with a friend and what writing these poems daily means to me. Although I have been rigorous about adhering to the syllabic form of the Haiku, 3 lines, 5, 7, and 5 syllables, they have otherwise not been traditional. Last week, however, I attended a workshop on writing Japanese short poems in order to learn more about the “rules” of the tradition and see how I might integrate them into my writing.

Tankas and Haikus are both ancient Japanese short poems with similar principles. The Tanka, which is older, started as a love poem. The first two lines are an image of nature, usually evoking a season, followed by a pivot or turn line, and concluding with a two-line response. The five lines are 5, 7, 5, 7, and 7 syllables. For our in-class writing, our prompt was “autumn change.”  I wrote:

Golden trees shimmer

After red and orange fade.

Shriveled leaves dancing.

Souls shiver in the darkness

As white snow falls silently.

The Haiku was originally read by two poets. The first read the image of nature and the pivot line, and the second responded with the last line. The Haiku is a way to capture a moment of experience. The first line uses a word like ‘roses” to convey the season. The second line links the image to the response in the last line, which may be a contrasting idea or an epiphany. Our prompt for the Haiku was “storm warning.” I wrote:

Skies, perfectly still,

Grow unnaturally green.

Where will I shelter?

In the days that followed, I tried to follow the traditional form and wrote two Haikus. The first has two versions:

Piles of brown leaves,

Blown noisily by machine,

Disappear quickly.

Piles of brown leaves,

Raked on a cold afternoon,

Perfect to jump in.

The second was:

Ring around the moon

Predicts rain for tomorrow.

A lazy Sunday.

This is the 21st. century. I enjoy writing Haikus that break the ancient rules. Yet I also enjoy the discipline of writing within the form.