by Alison

When Kelly first approached me with the idea of Haiku By Two, I could hardly remember what a haiku was. I knew it was a short poem and the counting of syllables was involved, but that was about it.

Now that the calendar has hit September, it’s dawned on me that Kelly and I have almost completed our goal, which was to take turns posting a haiku a day for the entire year. We’re more than half way there!

This realization, combined with the current back-to-school mania none of us can hope to escape, has put me in both a reflective and academic state of mind.

Lately, I’ve been wondering about our strict adherence to the 5-7-5 haiku format. Why do we do what we do?

I didn’t know a whole lot about haiku when we started Haiku By Two. Like you, I just knew the basics—count up the syllables, divide into three lines, talk about nature.

I’ll admit my initial attraction to haiku had nothing to do with the “art” of the form. I was more interested in its “cutsy-ness.”

It seemed like such a niche thing to do, and I liked brevity. I figured that if we were to have any actual hope of posting something every day for an entire year, then the shorter the better.

The syllable count wasn’t a bad thing, it was a good thing. We wouldn’t have to monkey around, wondering whether or not we were done with our haiku. If we hit 17, we were done.

When I stop to think about it, I think I took this idea from my years in the classroom—when the rules are explicit, there’s less messing around.

I have to admit, I like the counting. It definitely helps to have a very concrete plan so we can stay on task. In that way, the 5-7-5 structure has worked.

Way back at the beginning of the year, I interviewed Kari Ann Roy, who is the author of Haiku Mama. I loved what she had to say about 5.7.5. She said:

“A little 5-7-5 verse can be jotted down anywhere, on anything. I have sticky notes and scraps of paper and notebooks full of little haiku …

A lot of them are just created on the spot while I’m blogging. After a while, you just sort of train yourself to think in 5-7-5, I guess. It’s a very organized way of writing for a very disorganized way of life.”

This made me think about the many roles women take on today. Working outside the home, and still doing the primary load of housework. Parenting. Paying bills. Always the one to write thank you notes and arrange plans. Or at least, this is how I often feel in my daily life.

There is so much to multi-task that for me the 5-7-5 is a nice, rigid focus. It’s an easy, clear rule. Throughout my busy, hectic day I can easily call it up. I notice something, I count to five. I do dishes. I count to seven. I go grocery shopping. I count to five.

And yet even though I really like the 5-7-5 rule, as the year has gone on, as I’ve been reading haiku blogs, haiku books and haiku tweets, I’ve been learning that not all haiku follow the syllable count. Should we switch it up?

NO!

We can’t! We started with 5-7-5 and it’s gotten us this far—we can’t break our stride!

It’s our gig! It’s our thing!

But maybe it’s restricting us.

There are many who say the 5-7-5 count is not the essence of haiku, that by making ourselves stick to such a strict way of thinking, we’re flubbing up all our haiku because we’re forcing them into a box that’s too conforming.

I know, I know. I’ve read this, too. The 5-7-5 pattern is a rhythm inherent to the Japanese language. It’s a syllable count that comes naturally and is sort of pre-built in to the syntax. The English language doesn’t have this same tonal rhythm.

I get that. I’ve studied language acquisition. I’ve taught Spanish and English as a second language. I’ve also taught English grammar and literature. I understand that each language has its own rise and fall, its own bounce, its own natural pauses.

And I’ll admit that sometimes, when I’m writing haiku, I get frustrated when the syllable count doesn’t fall at a point in a phrase where I want it to.

I’ve felt this same frustration too. And there are some words with syllable counts that always confuse me. Like “hours.” Is this one syllable or two?

Once I even posted a haiku on the site that was completely miscounted. When I went back and looked at it, I thought, how did I miss that? This is part of the reason I’m intrigued by the idea of ditching the 5-7-5.

But we won’t, at least not this year. I like the idea of following the path we set for ourselves when we started.

Instead, we can try and adhere to other haiku rules—which I also didn’t know a whole lot about when we started Haiku By Two.

But as the year has gone on, as I’ve also read haiku blogs and books and tried to learn more about the form. I’ve learned about the idea of “cutting,” which is when a break appears in a haiku that divides it into two distinct pieces. In English this often happens with a dash.

And I’ve learned about “haiku moments,” which are the teeny slivers of time in which you notice that you are a human being existing alongside and within the greater cycle of nature.

I love the idea of a haiku moment! If I had to only take one thing away from this haiku year, it would be the haiku moment. I’ve been trying hard to embrace the haiku moments in my daily life.

There is also the haiku rule about the kiga, or nature word. That every haiku must in some way reference a season. I like using a kiga at times. It gets me to pay attention to the moment at hand.

I think this is one of the reasons I’m so drawn to the haiku of Richard Wright. He almost always used a kiga. And he also stuck to 5-7-5. I think this focus helped him through his last years.

Of course I often throw kiga and haiku mind to the wind and write about how much I hate housework or some funny observation about my family instead.

Which I’m totally fine with. I think it’s important that we don’t lose focus of why we set out on this haiku year.

The haiku was secondary. First and foremost, we started this project because it was supposed to be a way for us to keep in better contact with one another.

And it has totally worked. For us, haiku has become a sort of creative daily diary. Our haiku are a reflection of our lives.

I’m proud of that. Let the haiku purists bicker about 5-7-5. The way I see it is this: Everything loses something in translation. The haiku is no exception. But ultimately, I have to believe it’s better that the idea of haiku is out there, circulating in the world than stuck at home. Of course, that’s the traveler in me speaking out.

And besides, we’re American girls. We were raised to uphold the ideals of individualism and invention. Isn’t that what we’re doing with our haiku? Taking the form, and spinning it into something unique to us?

Yeah, I would definitely say our approach to haiku is not pure. It’s more loosey-goosey. And we are crafty gals …

Well, we aren’t Georgia OKeefe or Flannery O’Conner. But we did both earn degrees from the arty side of academia. I am drawn to the idea that we’re reclaiming and repurposing the art form for ourselves.

And you know—it is commonly said that there is nothing new. There is only something old presented as new.