Thanks for teaching me a lot about haiku and related poetry. I came here looking to learn about haiku and learned a whole lot more.

So far, the response to this essay has been merely more non-constructive haijin apathy. Break the silence. Start a fistfight today.

(1) As hinted in your essay and Caroline Hall’s posted response, some of this may be related to the mix of haiku and senryu in many publications, so there may be a broader mix of these traditions in English-language haiku publications.

(2) There may be some growing influence of tanka traditions (which celebrate a deliberately lyrical expression of inner psyche & emotion linked to a sense of being in a moment of perception). Many of the English-language haiku poets have been exploring ways of writing tanka in English, especially in the last few years, where the autobiographical, the confessional, the modernist angst and the post-modernist cynicism are valued both in Japanese and English-language traditions. These approaches are, perhaps, contributing to your observation about “psyku” and “wryku” versions of “tell-ems”.

(3) Also, more exploration of the Renku traditions have, perhaps, led to a realization that not every link has to be pure image and sensory perception. This playfulness with linked verse has, perhaps, extended an open-ness to the lyrical, the political, the ironic, etc. as shifting types of expressions and emotions available to the range of haiku. As discussed in Haruo Shirane’s excellent book, Traces of Dreams, one of the main goals of linking is to have a mix of ninjo and ninjo-nashi verses (some verses focused on pure images of the natural world, whereas other links are images and emotions from the human society). It is this mix that makes the Renku a fresh, unpredictable and a pleasant literary experience.

As editors, publishers and writers put together collections of haiku (in books, anthologies, and magazines) there is a natural desire to offer an interesting mix of perceptions, experiences and voices. Some of that mix is probably going to be a range of focus from nature and pure images and sensations to the inner or psychological or more human focus. Now the danger is that this human focus can easily lead to less effective haiku based on generalizations, emotional catch-phrases, or lyrical poeticisms which, of course, result in the “tell-ems” you are concerned about. And the human focus can turn into self-focus where the haiku finally are merely about the author’s life, values, attitudes and views. If too many of these end up in a collection, then the mix is probably not a good one, and the collection is a failure as a haiku collection because it has become a collection of epigrams or minimalist confessional free verse.

(4) Probably the biggest potential threat to haiku excellence, is a possible loss of connection to the Zen aesthetic principle of selflessness. In other words, if the haiku is anonymous, and the haiku experience is valuable because it offers an experience open to every human being, then it provides a unique set of particular images that connect to universal human experience. They are not about the author, the author’s feelings, the author’s biography, the author’s state of mind, etc. Ultimately, what matters about a haiku is that anyone could have written it, and everyone can feel it’s gift of perception. It is not about the haiku writer’s ego; it is about being human. The “by the way” about haiku publishing, then, is that “by the way, this haiku was written by so and so”.

The motive of the ego-based haiku is that the poem is a vehicle for the poet to gain reputation for wittiness, for a political position, for a cleverness, for a popular social movement, for a certain perspective. The haiku becomes subordinate to the writer’s identity. This problem of “celebrity” poets or clever voices and perspectives is probably the thing I am most alarmed about. And yet, some haiku poets are able to convey the personal, the inner psychological, the emotional, even the political, in humble ways that still invite readers into a universal human experience.

So overall, I’d say some mixing of the pure image of sensory perception with human expressions is natural in haiku. However, when the final point of a haiku is to keep the insight personal or to make an abstract statement, or to build up a public celebrity haiku poet identity where the biography seems more important than the selfless moment of perception, then we lose the primary value of haiku. Those “tell-ems” belong to the writer and do not invite the reader into the perceived images. Haiku readers don’t need to form fan-clubs for haiku writers or to adopt certain haiku writer’s attitudes; they need the genuine haiku experience that invites them into that human experience of being alive. So David, you raise a valid concern and caution for editors and publishers and writers of haiku. We should keep our guard up and publish haiku that offer readers the gift of perception and insight.

Forgive us when we fail and are taken in by the emotional outburst, the pathos of generalizations, the humor of witty expression, the bold expression of positions, and the little tell-em that seems worth repeating.

Randy Brooks
Editor, Mayfly magazine
Publisher, Brooks Books

As for senryu [a short poem similar in structure to haiku
that focuses on human nature], I believe that “show don’t tell” applies to them as well as to haiku. The best senryu allow the reader to draw the conclusion or experience the insight into human nature based on juxtaposition of sensory images. Indeed, they are more at risk than haiku of being little more than bon mots and epigrams if not grounded in sensory images.

Although I enjoyed writing the verse in question and am pleased you and others have enjoyed it , it is a line from a country song attached to a very generalized physical experience (not even a sensory moment). As such, it has the makings of a moment of mirth or a pretty good greetings card, but is at best a mediocre senryu. It is a good example of my point that being interesting, insightful or entertaining does not itself make a poem either good haiku or good senryu, even if presented to look like one or intended to be one.

I hope that poets and editors will not use the excuse of a poem being senryu or almost senryu as an excuse for telling their insights, explanations and conclusions rather than showing them, or for including tell-ems in sections that are billed as “haiku & senryu.”

sleepless night
she won’t stop
leaving me alone

is a terrific senryu and thus deserves publication. Most journals do not distinguish haiku from senryu (and I often don’t agree with the criteria of those that do). The Red Moon Anthology no longer makes a distinction between the two, so it is unfair to judge every poem that appears there as if it were a haiku.

That said, I thank you for the reminder to be mindful of what I write–especially if I intend for my poems to be read as haiku.

All best,
Carolyn