Welcome to Day 9! Today's prompt is a type of poem: a haiku. Most people know these as the 5-7-5 syllable ones, but if you go beyond that, to its other conventions, it becomes a much more constrained form – which makes it much more interesting to play with! There's a whole bunch of other stuff to play with in that tiny space. Here's a summary of the conventions:
- Three lines: 5 syllables, 7 syllables, 5 syllables (mostly – more on this below!)
- kiru: a ‘cutting’, a juxtaposition of two images
- kigo: a discreet reference to the season
- ambiguity: it provokes thought rather than resolving, concluding, or explaining
- self-contained lines: generally, allowing each line to read as a self-contained fragment, not depending on run-on grammar
- a single moment
That sense of a single moment is one of the beauties of a haiku, especially combined with its ambiguity, not explaining itself. The moment just is, itself and complete. In Zen terms, you could see it as satori or kenshÅ, recognising life as it is. In Greek terms, it's kairos, the self-contained moment, as opposed to chronos, chronological time.
That said, if you're new to writing haiku with all those lovely extra constraints, don't overburden yourself by trying to get it absolutely right, first time – tensing up isn't good for our bodies or our poetry. Just write a bunch of those babies, as careless as the flick of a pen, and you can always choose or hybridise your favourites later.
For an idea of what to write about, as your haikus want a seasonal reference anyway, nab the season all around us right now and write about autumn's slip into winter (if you're in the Northern hemisphere) or the first signs of spring (if you're in the Southern hemisphere).
Here's a trio of haiku I wrote in assorted seasons:
Baked folds of fields flowCopyright means I can't show you other people's, but you'll find a heap more examples and more explanation of haiku's features here, from the British Haiku Society.
beyond our crunchy shade:
beeches hide bare limbs.
Fat mist-gold crescent
ducks behind semi rooftops
giving me the dark.
Grinning horror-gourd
and hairy hard fruit-flesh-milk
make November’s soups
The Meddling with Poetry course explores a host of different poetry forms as well as the musicality of language, poetic imagery, and other aspects of the poetic. It's 8 weeks long, one evening a week, and absolute beginners and experienced writers are equally welcome. You can read more details and book a place here.
