The Haiku Help-Desk

The Haiku Help-Desk is part of my haikai column in a fine line, The Magazine of the New Zealand Poetry Society. It's a place where readers can learn by example: in each issue the editor gives feedback on a haiku in such a way that it shows the reader how they might improve their own haiku or otherwise learn about the art of writing haiku. The editor sometimes uses their own haiku as the example and other times another poet's work is used. These articles are now being archived on the Haiku NewZ website thanks to Sandra Simpson and Laurice Gilbert. So far you can read:

• The Last Line by Kirsten Cliff
• The Shaping of a Haiku by Margaret Beverland
• Awareness in Haiku by Patricia Prime

More will be added over the coming months. Check out other archived articles, as well as book reviews, competition and journal listings, the Showcase of NZ haiku poets and the My Favourite Haiku features while you're visiting. And don't forget about Haiku Festival Aotearoa 2012 - registrations in by June 1st! I'll see you there :)

Straight From the Haijin's Mouth #3

'Straight From the Haijin's Mouth' is one of the features that makes up my haikai column in a fine line, The Magazine of the New Zealand Poetry. This edition is from the January 2012 issue, and is reprinted with the kind permission of Laurice Gilbert, Catherine Mair and Patricia Prime. 

Straight From the Haijin's Mouth

I asked long time friends and poetry writing buddies Catherine Mair and Patricia Prime, 'Where has your reading and writing of haiku taken you over the years?'

Catherine Mair's answer:

It was the late 1980s and I had just started writing poetry. Because of the economical, rural/nature content it was suggested that I might find an affinity with haiku.

I'd never heard of haiku. Upon expressing my ignorance I was sent a few notes on the basics of this genre. In 1993 the first New Zealand Haiku Anthology included five of my haiku and the second Anthology (1998) included a number more. My interest in haiku lead me on a number of journeys the most far flung being a jaunt to Romania for a haiku conference hosted by Ion Codrescu. Picton was another very enjoyable destination.

The succinct way of haiku suits my natural brevity and because of a busy lifestyle the idea of so much in so little really appealed to me. Haiku satisfied several leanings. I'd been very interested in painting but farming in partnership with my husband and bringing up four children left little time. Over the years I've met some superb people. Haijin seem to share a relatively humble outlook and an acute sensitivity to nature, including human nature.

There is something about haiku which is spiritually satisfying. Something which seems akin to creation.

 

Patricia Prime's answer: 

As co-editor of the New Zealand haiku journal Kokako for the past 15 issues, I am privileged to have come to know and correspond with editors and writers throughout the world. I wrote my first haiku in the 80s and have submitted work to journals in the USA, Canada, Australia, Great Britain, India and Ireland. What better way is there to make friends than through poetry?

Martin Lucas says in the Introduction to his book Stepping Stones: a way into haiku that “Haiku is not a descriptive poetry, it is a reflective poetry, and we need to understand that distinction.” Haiku in its own way is self-counselling; it is a pleasure to read other people’s work and to study their methods and it is beneficial to write about one’s own feelings. Haiku is a form that blends sensitivity with realism, using simple language and clear images and I hope my poems are accessible to most readers and that they can identify with them in some way.

I’ve spent half a lifetime in Auckland, where I’ve lived, worked, brought up my family and found poetic inspiration and motivation. I’ve also made trips to China, Tibet, Macau, Australia and the South Island. These were enchanting journeys and have since lent themselves to my poetry. Writing haiku has been a long journey: some haiku had their beginnings long ago, others are very recent. Old memories supply material for my haiku, as do places I’ve visited, nature, friendships I’ve made and my family.

In a spiritual sense haiku can be a release for emotion, can range from the lyrical to the haunting, or be touched with humour or sadness. A lightness of tone, memory and imagination, are all part of the spiritual reality of haiku.

Straight From the Haijin's Mouth #2

'Straight From the Haijin's Mouth' is one of the features that makes up my haikai column in a fine line, The Magazine of the New Zealand Poetry. This edition is from the November 2011 issue, and is reprinted with the kind permission of Laurice Gilbert, Nola Borrell and Karen Peterson Butterworth.

Straight From the Haijin's Mouth

I asked the co-editors of the latest national haiku anthology the taste of nashi, Nola Borrell and Karen Peterson Butterworth, 'What is the most valuable piece of advice you have ever received about writing haiku?'

Nola Borrell's answer: At the risk of being contentious (or not published!), I think 'challenge' is a more useful word than 'advice'. Good haiku depend so much more on a way of seeing, or as Martin Lucas (Editor, Presence) says:

'To begin writing haiku, and to make progress to any significant extent, requires two gifts:

• The ability to be alert to the subtleties of sensory or psychological experience (i.e. to notice things)
• A sensitivity to the subtleties of language (i.e. to be able to express things).'
  

http://www.poetrysociety.org.nz/node/460

A challenge from Martin Lucas stimulated me to look more critically at my haiku. He talks about making a 'magical utterance' or a 'poetic spell', something archetypal/ rare/ essential, and in poetic language (4th Haiku Pacific Rim Conference, 2009, Terrigal, Australia). This seems more likely to reduce the human focus frequently dominant or at least intrusive in many current haiku, as well as prosy statements masquerading as haiku. http://www.poetrysociety.org.nz/node/456

A specific suggestion (just to keep in with Co-ordinator Kirsten!): Early in my writing I received this comment on a mainstream poem: How about avoiding weak endings to lines, such as 'of', 'the',' in'. Of course. Why hadn't I seen it! Thanks Harry Ricketts (V.U.W., Co-Editor, New Zealand Books). This makes even more sense in haiku - where each word and line ending is that much more significant.

Karen Peterson Butterworth's answer: First the foundation. My artist mother who trained my eyes. When a boring (to me) visitor arrived, ‘Watch her hands and do me a drawing afterwards.’ With her water colour tubes laid out on a white enamel tray, ‘Which colours would you mix for that sunset?’ Five minutes later, ‘Now which?’ My music teacher. ‘When it says “staccato”, leave a tiny gap between each note, and for “legato,” make the notes flow into each other.’ My Dad who sang while he turned the separator handle for the cream on our porridge. My bout with polio which gave me five months with nothing to do but read and observe. 

Then meeting haiku in my 50s. Reading, listening, attending workshops. No single piece of advice springs to mind, but gradually three pivotal messages crystallized. 1. Learn to recognise a haiku moment. 2. Note it down straight away. 3. Choose, change, chop, and chisel your words till you make them sing. 

Copies of the taste of nashi: New Zealand Haiku (Windrift Haiku Group, 2008) are still available for sale. Find all the deatils here.

Straight From the Haijin's Mouth #1

'Straight From the Haijin's Mouth' is one of the features that makes up my haikai column in a fine line, The Magazine of the New Zealand Poetry. This edition is from the September 2011 issue, and is reprinted with the kind permission of Laurice Gilbert, Joanna Preston and Owen Bullock. 

Straight From the Haijin's Mouth

I asked this year's NZPS International Haiku Competition Judges, Joanna Preston (Open) and Owen Bullock (Junior), 'What is it about haiku that keeps you coming back for more?'

Joanna Preston's answer: It's less a case of ‘what keeps me coming back’ than haiku refusing to let me go in the first place! Every few years I decide I want to leave the genre alone for a while, but something will happen that just can’t be expressed in any other form, or that announces itself to me that way. And then I'm astounded all over again at the depth and complexity of the genre. For me it's that shock of recognition, of purpose, of rightness, that’s crucial in all poetry, but most powerfully concentrated in haiku. And there’s no better training for a poet – to be precise, to be good at recognising exactly what elements of a scene or experience are the really important ones, and to be as supple in meaning and frugal in expression as possible. You feel the really good ones in your body, as a physical impact, as well as in your mind. So maybe my need for haiku is a form of addiction, the way runners can come to crave the endorphin high. Or maybe it's the nuclear physics of poetry – the power to blow the world apart packed into a tiny, seemingly innocuous package.

Read more from Joanna on her blog – A Dark Feathered Art

Owen Bullock's answer: I love the variety that is possible in haiku, and the depth that is sometimes held by such few words. That depth is like a lake, you can swim on the surface or dive deep, chase sticks or skim stones. But it is always about what is real, what is experienced, grounded in sensation. The technique is hidden; the approach of the best haiku so subtle that it is as if no effort goes into it, that it tumbles out of the sky fully formed. Haiku takes me by surprise more often than other forms of poetry.

My own search as a poet is for truth and simplicity. Truth, in this context, means a faithfulness to what actually occurred. The simplicity required to frame the experience is a great lesson and training ground for any and all writing.

waiting . . .

a leaf falls

into my lap

~from wild camomile

Read more from Owen on his website