Showing posts with label haiku. Show all posts
Showing posts with label haiku. Show all posts

Wednesday, 6 April 2022

Rachna Singh in conversation with Alan Summers about haiku (and tanka)

 
















The Wise Owl talks to Alan Summers, a multi-award-winning poet of haiku and related genres, whose poetry has been published in various anthologies and journals worldwide. Born in London, he now resides in Chippenham, England and is the editor-in-chief of The Haiku Reader. 

He has authored several poetry collections viz. Does Fish-God Know, The In-Between Season, among others, and been involved as an editor in various haiku-based anthologies including c.2.2.: Anthology of Short Verse and Four Virtual Haiku Poets

Alan’s work has also been featured in various poetry anthologies of which City: Bristol today in poems and pictures is especially noteworthy. The Haiku Foundation Digital Library contains a number of Alan’s books including Forbidden Syllables and Glint as well as the 2019 joint collection The Comfort of Crows

He is the founder and lead tutor of Call of the Page, where he runs international online courses, workshops and events on Japanese forms of verse such as haiku, senryu, tanka and haibun. Alan is also the founding editor of three journals viz. Blo͞o Outlier Journal, MahMight haiku journal, and The Babylon Sidedoor.

A double Japan Times award winning writer, Summers was filmed by NHK Television (Japan) for ‘Europe meets Japan-Alan’s Haiku Journey’

He is a Pushcart prize nominated poet for haiku and haibun, Best Small Fictions nominated for haibun, and was formerly General Secretary of the British Haiku Society (1998-2000), President of the United Haiku and Tanka Society (2017 to 2021) and was an editor for the multi-award-winning Red Moon Anthologies for best haikai literature between 2000 and 2005. 

He also happens to be the recipient of a Touchstone Individual Poem Award in 2016 for his poem ‘house clearance.’

INTERVIEW

Q. Our readers and viewers would be curious to know (as I am) what attracted you to haiku poetry and related genres like tanka, senryu, haibun etc.
A.The answer is serendipity!

I’d left England, UK, for Queensland, Australia, and it was a close call that I’d never write poetry ever again. Arriving in Brisbane, I came across the Metro Arts Centre, which had an office door marked Queensland Poetry Association, and their Director said she liked my poems! I’d had a very bad experience in a Round Robin poetry discussion back in England, and assumed, and was almost bullied, into believing I was terrible at writing poetry. The QPA Director picked three short poems (but not haiku yet) for a newspaper that prints one poem a month. I was successful, one was accepted, and I got paid! Being paid for your poetry really boosts your confidence.

At a later date I decided to visit the State Library of Queensland to improve my poetry writing and reading skills. In front of me I had compiled a huge pile of books, and settled in for the entire day, and just by accident, there was a book with early hokku and haiku: I started to get hooked.

Coincidently I visited the Metro Arts Centre again, and noticed an announcement about a haiku workshop, haiku collection book launch, plus a performance from the book. I found and bought the book, attended the workshop (though I didn’t do well), and attended the performance, and was further hooked. I then popped into a small branch library, on another day, and there was not one but two copies of a book, prominently displayed, called The Haiku Handbook (William Higginson and Penny Harter). I was due to fly out to Kuala Lumpur the next day and borrowed the book, and read it on the flight over, during my two day stay, and on the flight back, and was forever hooked!

The appeal of haiku itself is simply that I feel both enthralled, entranced, and light in a good way, and I want to keep that feeling.

Later on, I was hooked, and then wrote tanka, senryu, and haibun, and would like to show two published tanka and one especially composed for this interview. Love, death, and mortality, are just some strong themes for tanka:



the undertaker’s
awkwardness
butterflies are dying
as I help wrap her
in a winding sheet

Alan Summers
The Right Touch of Sun
2017 Tanka Society of America Members’ Anthology
ed. Margaret Dornaus and David Terelinck



sometimes
before falling in love
with my wife
again and again
the cries of swifts

Alan Summers
Blithe Spirit vol 20 no. 3 (2010)



this blue sky
tinged with grey streaks
and left behind clouds
we’re still
in love

Alan Summers
(composed for this interview)


Q. What for you is the essence of haiku poetry and related genres like tanka.
A. Enigma.

I could leave it at that, but to elucidate, it’s also like solving a never-ending and elusive puzzle that includes me. Haiku remains as a welcoming and enduring enigma, mystery, and lifelong learning curve, and companion. I don’t want to conquer it, or fake that I can: I only want the genre of haiku, and tanka, to keep one step ahead of me so that I can keep forever being challenged and grow and evolve along the way of constant discovery.




NHK World TV, Japan:

Europe meets Japan - Alan's Haiku Journey

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3VS36AGVI6s


Q. I was looking at your video made by NHK Television (Japan) where we see you sitting at the Bradford-on-Avon train station writing poetry or walking the streets of London for inspiration for your poetry. Please tell us something about the creative process that goes into writing your poetry.
A. My process has probably changed over the decades, but at its root It started with using scraps of paper, envelopes, even fast-food restaurant tray liners that were blank on the reverse side! It was just writing words, sometimes as phrases, or just as key words. There doesn’t have to be a logical connection with the words and phrases, just writing a lot of words down. That’s always a great warm up and can be followed by seeing what two groups of words might spark between each other.


Q. You also talk about how you came across the English version of a poem by Basho called ‘summer grasses’ and were inspired to read and then write haiku. Were there any other haiku or tanka masters that inspired you to explore this poetry?

夏草や兵どもが夢の跡

松尾 芭蕉

(Matsuo Bashō)

composed late June 1689



Transliteration:

natsu-gusa ya / tsuwamono-domo-ga / yume no ato 

summer grasses (:!) / strong ones’ / dreams’ site 

(romanised version with literal English-language translation) 



summer grasses the soldiers of a trail of dreams


One line haiku version in English by Alan Summers



A. As I didn’t own a computer, I relied on books from libraries mostly, and they were hokku (pre-1890s) dominated by Bashō, Buson, Issa, Chiyo-ni, and then some haiku from Shiki. The English versions came in all shapes and sizes and permutations from Heroic Couplets to Quatrains and various wordy and strange translations! Then I must have come across better versions of these hokku, and a decent three-line translation of Bashō’s summer grasses and how timeless it was, both as a historic and contemporary verse at the very same time. That aspect of haikai verses always appearing to be in the present tense is an intriguing thing! Plus that tiny branch library had copies of Machi Tawara’s tanka collection called Salad Anniversary, and I was entranced, but couldn’t emulate, or even write tanka myself for a few years.


Q. In the same video you talk about how after a while, the seasonal elements of traditional haiku poetry became restrictive and hence you transitioned to a modern form of haiku, inspired by Kaneko Tohta. Our readers would be curious to know, why the traditional haiku lost its appeal for you and what was it about Tohta’s poetry that attracted you enough to explore fresh ground.
A. I do actually come back to seasonal references, and I was recently the winner of the Modern Kigo Contest, and, have become part of the Core Team creating or researching new kigo. Of course, all the kigo back then appeared to be about Japanese culture and seasons, and mostly from the past, and I was living in Australia, in the present! Later, I came back to England, which is a very different place again regarding geographical locations!

My ‘sundog’ haiku collection does include a few Aussie seasonal references, so in general, it was mostly a resistance against the policing of kigo. Even in Japan, regional kigo were being subdued in preference for Kyoto or Edo (Tokyo) based seasonal references. When Tohta came out of the last Japanese combat situation of WWII (Truk Island) he was compelled to write about the negative aspect of war, its impact on society, and also seeing a way through to a more applicable modern experience of life that didn’t include war.

As haiku is traditionally written over one line in Japan, here’s a couple of my own, and in less ‘traditional style’ regarding the seasons:



Aoko mora we eat our livers as stilettos


Alan Summers
Ekphrasti-ku… Misguided Little Unforgivable Hierarchies
ed. Pippa Phillips (January 2022)

Notes:
(Aoko, Japanese origin, meaning ‘blue child’ and mora, Spanish origin, meaning ‘little blueberry’)

The editor, Pippa Phillips said:
“If Finnegan’s Wake were a haiku, it would look something like this”




rush hour the train station cornea by cornea

Alan Summers
 
2nd Prize,
Australian Haiku Society Spring Haiga Kukai: Non Seasonal
Judge: Ron Moss



Though I do write a lot of seasonal haiku too. Here’s a three-line seasonal haiku especially composed for the interview, which is also in a pattern of 5-7-5 English-language syllables!



the cheat days of Lent
songs of robins manifest
into blackthorn trees


Seasonal (kigo) reference: Lent (Christian festival, Spring: March/April)

Lent 2022 began on Wednesday, 2nd March and ends on Thursday, 14th April. 
There are 40 days of Lent. 

While Lent Sundays are part of the Time of Lent, they are not necessarily days of fast and abstinence. 

The composition date of this haiku was Sunday 13th March.



 空襲よくとがった鉛筆が一本

kûshû yoku togatta enpitsu ga hitotsu

Kaneko Tohta



air raid one sharp pencil

(English version by Alan Summers)



I don’t believe there is a direct seasonal aspect with Tohta’s haiku except that this haiku is about the huge WWII air-raid on Truk Island (Japan) which lasted two days (February 17-18, 1944). Just like the summer grasses it is horribly contemporary right now.



Kaneko Tohta (1919-2018) died in February 2018, in Japan, aged 98. As a war veteran he actively advocated peace in later life, talking about his tragic wartime experiences. After the war he started writing avant-garde haiku without traditional seasonal references and also incorporated social issues and ideologies into his poems. He received the Modern Haiku Association Prize in 1956, and in 1962 founded the haiku magazine Kaitei. In 2012 he received the Kikuchi Kan Prize for his contributions to Japanese Culture and in 2015 was awarded the Asahi Prize for being at the forefront of contemporary haiku. He appeared regularly on television in Japan to talk about haiku, only retiring in January 2018.




Q. Haiku as we all know has Japanese origins. When we did a haiku special in our Pearl Edition (January 2022), a lot of our readers wanted to know if the European haiku rigidly follows the Japanese rules, or whether it has evolved and become a distinct and separate form of poetry. As a poet and a creative mentor of these genres, what do you think?
A. As haiku has become a genre more than a ‘form’ in my opinion, and although it might remain rigid within some but not all Japanese schools of approach to haiku, I’d say not only European haiku, but poems from British/UK (Northern Irish, Welsh, Scottish and English) poets, from the Americas, Indian sub-continent, and Australasia etc… have used the haiku template and brought some beautiful variations. We are all very different.

It’s still a new genre, even in Japan, if we consider that Masaoka Shiki brought about the term “haiku” in the 1890s. This verse form still clung to being the same as hokku until the advent of the New Rising Haiku movement, which was a game changer, just before Japan entered WWII. We cannot keep avoiding the inevitable though, can we? There are huge social movements, climate changes, and technological change: It’s simply not healthy to remain conservative, too, as so much is happening around the world right now to the detriment of those of us who wish to live in peace.


Q. Has haiku poetry impacted your attitude or approach to life, the way maybe you perceive nature and people around you. Please share your thoughts on this with our readers.
A. Before I arrived at haiku, I’d started writing poetry again after a very bad start, and often keenly observed Australian natural history, as I lived on farmland, plus I was a volunteer for a 2000 acre landcare project, running a tree nursery, and planting trees as well. I was already a trained observer from previous types of jobs too. Though as I became drawn to writing haiku almost exclusively, I began to appreciate the more succinct and profound, that I found amongst the ordinary and not so ordinary: That is a kind of magic, and caught in barely more than half a dozen words or so, yet entering a new universe every time.


Q. If you were to describe haiku and tanka in one adjective, what would you say?
A. Inexplicable.


Q. Are there any contemporary haiku and tanka poets that you admire. What is it about their poetry that you enjoy?
A. I tend to be a fan of individual poems on a daily basis rather than selected poets. This will be amply shown, both in the haiku only Summer issue of Blo͞o Outlier Journal, as well as The Haiku Reader anthology coming out in early 2023.


Q. What advice would you give budding haiku and tanka poets?
A. Deconstruct.

This approach feels much more important than simply reading a haiku, which takes around six seconds, and left feeling that it’s nice, and then moving onto the next haiku and the next, and the next.

I would advise spending a lot of time with just one haiku.

Ask yourself questions such as “why I do really like this haiku?” Or “why don’t I like this haiku?” Or “Why don’t I understand this haiku?” Or “Why am I really indifferent to this haiku?”

It’s surprising what happens when we read and re-read a single haiku multiple times, we might change our minds about a poem sometimes only given six seconds to register, or even if we don’t, we will come away with something more useful than merely “it’s nice” or “I don’t like it” etc…


I would deconstruct the haiku right back to its basic building blocks 

i.e., 
label each word’s grammatical function.


When you completely pare back a haiku, so that you have listed each noun, verb, preposition, article [a, an, the], and other potential components such as personal pronouns, even adverbs and adjectives, then you have a chart of each word’s function in grammar.

That starts to purposely unravel the poem before we put it back together again.

As haiku are two parts, but often three lines, it’s good to see if there is a two-line phrase, and a one-line part. 

After labelling each word in the entire poem, then shift to look at that one-line section and that two-line section separately and look at their ‘phrasing’.

Why are certain words placed in a particular order? How does the phrasing manipulate the words that we have in our word for word list of basic building blocks? Why are the lines in a certain order, and does the haiku work best starting with a single line fragment, or a two-line phrase?

As haiku are so incredibly short it’s not always as easy to decipher a haiku, as it might be for a longer poem. Haiku also hides half of itself in a way perhaps we could call ma—間 in Japanese. Sometimes we need to take a leap across an invisible tightrope: It’s a balancing act with some juggling involved, and that might help to see some of the inner workings of a haiku!

Persevere.

Keep adding haiku that you have deconstructed, those you like, or confused by, or you don’t like.

Simply reading a lot of haiku will not make us better readers or writers, rather it’s the hard graft of decoding these short poems through a process, that will help.

It will be surprising, but in days, weeks, or months of hard work, the understanding of haiku and its inner workings will become easier and easier. There’s no rush, no need to conquer, let the little poem work its magic over time, until it’s a lifelong learning instinct that gives our left and right brain functions an amazing workout too!


Q. How do you envision the future of these forms of poetry (haiku, tanka)? More and more people are of course embracing these forms. Do you think they will be niche-based or will be assimilated into mainstream literary poetry eventually?
A. I often give the example of Twitter, the social media platform, with its original limit of 140 characters, and how many people struggled with that ‘limitation’ except for haiku writers! 

We could easily fit one whole haiku into a Tweet, and actually you could even place two, but that’s greedy. And of course tanka also fits neatly into a Tweet. So future developments in communication will also be embraced by the highly flexible genres of haiku and tanka. 

These genres are both niche-based (especially tanka) and also popular within many mainstream creative writing journals. Haibun which is a combination of prose and haiku are accepted in many different types of creative and non-fiction publications, and tanka stories (prose+tanka) have the same possibility. 

Haiku poems are addictive, so many non-poets love them, and mainstream poets try to write them! Jack Kerouac did assimilate his haiku into The Dharma Bums, for instance, and perhaps there are covert haiku in all kinds of communications as we speak. Short bursts of information will always be vital, for various reasons, both as poetry and also as they did in early tanka days, as coded rendezvous assignations! 

I don’t think we have to worry as Shiki did, these tiny poems are here to stay, and continue to adapt to circumstances.


Q. You are a prolific writer and poet. Our readers would be eager to know if there is a freshly minted book on the anvil. When do we see it in the bookstores?
A. Most of my time is spent, acting as a mentor to other poets, which I love to do! But you have guessed right, there is something in the pipeline, and it involves a 5-book project, and most of these publications will appear later in the year and into 2023. I can’t say more yet!



Thank you so much Alan for taking time out to chat with The Wise Owl. We wish you success in all your future creative and poetic ventures, and hope that your professional courses, on haiku and tanka sow the seeds of a better understanding of this beautiful genre of poetry.


Dr. Rachna Singh 

Principal Editor

The Wise Owl magazine

Literary | Creative | Aesthetic | Monthly e-magazine


A doctorate in English literature, Rachna Singh has authored Penny Panache (2016) Myriad Musings (2016) Financial Felicity (2017) & The Bitcoin Saga: A Mixed Montage (2019). 


She writes regularly for National Dailies and has also been reviewing books for The Tribune for more than a decade. She runs a YouTube Channel, Kuch Tum Kaho Kuch Hum Kahein, which brings to the viewers poetry of established poets of Hindi & Urdu:

https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCKCM9m6K8Uy0JydrBUK_DRQ 







This was first published:

The Wise Owl magazine, Tulip issue ed. Rachna Singh (April 2022)

Interview: Rachna Singh in conversation with Alan Summers 

https://www.thewiseowl.art/tete-a-tete-alan-summers









Alan Summers is the founder of Call of the Page


The Unseen Go-Between in Haiku by Alan Summers

 


The Unseen Go-Between in Haiku

Alan Summers


"We are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars.” 

Oscar Wilde, from his play Lady Windermere's Fan, written in 1892


“If one were to look at a comic we would see empty space between the panels that contain the illustrations and dialogue. 


In the comic world this space is known as the gutter


The gutter is essential for comics… because it allows for closure to happen


The gutter is used to take two separate images and transform them into a single idea…”  

  

Scott McCloud, author of Understanding Comics: The Invisible Art (HarperCollins 1993)



Professor Delwiche (Trinity University, San Antonio, Texas), quotes McCloud, who explains that while a reader cannot see what is happening within the gutter, assumptions can be made that allow for those panels to be related in some way. 


McCloud then describes closure as: 


a “phenomenon of observing the parts but perceiving the whole.”



Let’s see how McCloud describes his six types of panel-to-panel transitions, each requiring a different degree of closure/reaction from the reader:



  1. Movement-to-movement transitions
  2. Action-to-action transitions
  3. Subject-to-subject transitions
  4. Scene-to-scene transitions
  5. Aspect-to-aspect
  6. Non-sequitur transition




1. Movement-to-movement transitions present basic movements occurring:



woodfire

flickering in the silence

corralled horses



Alan Summers

Modern Haiku vol. xxvi  no. 3 (1995)


The middle line of this haiku published by Modern Haiku is what we would call a pivot line. The movement of the wood-burning fire (think camp fire) is throwing up shadows, so that flames and shadows, this is a night scene and people are tucked into their sleeping bags, are flickering. 


As the horses mill around their movement is caught up by the flames throwing shadows around. If there was no fire, and no flickering flames, there would be no flickering shadows. We can imagine continuous movements being picked up by the light of the flickering flames making everything else flicker too.



2. Action-to-action transitions present a single subject progressing through a specific movement:



kicking

through the leaves

sound of its season



Alan Summers

BBC Television Regional Arts feature (November 2003)


The haiku is about a set of actions around a single image of leaves on the ground, as it’s the Fall/Autumn. What child, and even adult, has not wanted to kick through a mound of autumnal leaves! So many of us love to hear the sound of the dry crispness, and crackling sound, of the leaves that are a strong symbol of Autumn. 


We are literally kicking through the sound of the season! The BBC film crew caught me drawing this haiku using chalk across the sidewalk (and into the gutter between sidewalk and road) during a big Art Trail festival that was both outside and also in private homes open to visitors.


Here are two explanations describing the differences between “movement” and “action”:


“movement is physical motion between points in space while action is something done so as to accomplish a purpose.” Movement vs Action - What's the difference? | WikiDiff


Paraphrasing Professor Delwiche:

The gutter serves as a way to keep actions separate. Movement is where a group of actions encapsulate individual actions.


All those children and adults, including me, kicking the fallen leaves just to hear them, and hear the season!




3. Subject-to-subject transitions present one situation, and stay within that specific scene, showing one thing, perhaps suggesting something else about that scene as well. It calls for more reader involvement: As readers we might need to inhabit the scene for longer.




an attic window sill

a wasp curls

into its own dust



Alan Summers

Haiku of Merit, Professor Hoshino Tsunehiko (Ginko/Kukai, London, UK 1997)

Yomiuri Shimbun, Japan (published for my birthday, September 16th 2002)



My parents’ home had an attic with a window at each end. During the height of a Summer heatwave a lot of wasps died, and then dried out. Many of the wasps were curled up in death, and one in particular was a perfect round curl, with a circle of dust from its own body surrounding it in a perfect circle.  


The fairly thin wooden sill/shelf was also drying out, as there was no ventilation in the attic. The sill was beginning to curl up a little and it looked like both the wasps and the sill/window base were curling up together. It was if it was a case of who or what was curling whom?


At first reading, there is the first subject (attic window sill) and a second subject (a wasp) tethered together by dust. Most things can turn to dust and here we move from the window sill made out of a natural substance (wood) to another natural entity (wasps) and both can be prone to heat and desiccation (basically losing all moisture). 


This is a haiku that stays with the main motif of dust and just staying at that single window sill and its occupant.





4. Scene-to-scene transitions take place across significant distances within time and space, a sort of both “here” and “there” at the same moment:




twilight on snow shadows deepen the grip of stars

 


Alan Summers

Frogpond 37:2 (2014)

Anthology: big data The Red Moon Anthology of English-Language Haiku 2014



The sheen on snow, whether we see fresh snow in the morning before it turns to slush, or that also magical shine as dusk arrives, and all the shadows created by the sun (daylight) or by the moon (evening/night) that always lends character to this phenomena we often associate with special wintery celebrations. 


Here I have the time (twilight) and the first concrete image (snow) interacting with subtle shadows caused by amongst other things, the moon. When I look up, I can see either some or many stars, and within me I feel delightfully small and in awe of the vast expanse above me that goes on and on and on, and I am in the grip of stars.


An effective method for some of our haiku is to capture something close up and and something far away, or the reverse. Usually this is perhaps something close up like a bird on the ground or on a fence, for instance, that then flies up to a tree. 


Here I make the scene shift from snow on the ground, and shadows, to deep space. I’m still in awe that standing on this planet’s surface I can look up and into the galaxy.





5. Aspect-to-aspect is unique in that it shows different things occurring simultaneously within the same scene.


First of all the aspect-to-aspecttransition originates from Japanese manga and animé, to evoke a mood gently stimulating focus on ‘just being there' rather than the ‘goal orientated process of getting there’.


Here are two haiku (Easter Wedding, and hazelnut picking) which are both also seasonal.




Easter Wedding

the chauffeur in a tangle

with the umbrella



Alan Summers

Presence #44 (2011)



Easter is one of the popular times to have a wedding, and where everything needs to be perfect, but it’s also the Spring season with its sometimes wide and varied mix of weather conditions. 


The scene is set for the various family and friends to pour into the church. A Rolls Royce pulls into a side street, out of sight. 


The weather is picking up, the bride is holding her dress down, there are no helpers. The driver tries to manage an umbrella as it’s starting to rain. 


The wedding party is unaware that the main guest is struggling, and her driver is trying to do the work of several brides maids, unsuccessfully. 


One event (a wedding) and two aspects of that wedding.



hazelnut picking

the child in a memory puts 

my hand to the moon



Alan Summers

Honourable Mention, Autumn Moon Haiku Contest 2021 (judge: Bruce Ross)



It’s the Fall, and alongside the main feature of leaves turning colour, and eventually falling, is the various nuts that squirrels prize, and some humans too! September and October are the main months for hazelnuts, and we once used to forage for them, partly to save money, partly as a family outing, or as youngsters enjoying free snacks as we play games outside. 


And it was all free, fresh air and exercise, and a great walk into the green outdoors rather than driving around and then entering a supermarket to buy things that hung on trees.


This is all about being part of nature, and a hazelnut picking activity. 


One activity but two aspects, the now (present) and “then” (past). 


We were all once children, perhaps this is a universal child, or one that really got into the spirit when we didn’t. 


Now that memory comes back and that child is helping  me to enjoy the simple and free things again.




6. A Non-sequitur transition provides no logical connection between panels, unless we have fun, and make a leap of logic connecting ‘the dots’ or even “creating our own dots.”  Have a go yourself with these two single line haiku examples:




each window its own night train



Alan Summers

Honourable Mention, British Haiku Society Awards 2018/19 (judge Scott Mason)



Many of us may have lived or visited a home, apartment, motel/hotel, or even a restaurant by or inside a railway station that looks onto the railway platforms; or we might be on that train and passing through residential areas. 


We might see, as a train passenger, the reflection of the train running across residential windows. We then get reflection upon reflection. 


Is each window we see representing each individual apartment, and ‘each window its own’ feels amplified by us inside the ‘night train’. 


Of course the people in an apartment or hotel room have their own perspective, where each train window, containing a different view, is perhaps of just one person per train window, or a couple, or a family. You decide. 


And in turn “each window its own night” short for each window becomes its own night scene for a moment and then the train moves on, or we do.




nightfall the key turns into a blackbird



Alan Summers

Blithe Spirit 31.4 November 2021

Shortlisted, Museum of Haiku Literature




This might feel that it is not logical! Does it really matter though? 


It can be broken down into logical pieces and I’ll attempt to do this. It was written in my fugue zone, but there is linear detail: The first word lets us know, or tells us, that it is nighttime. 


The next ‘phrase’ appears as ‘the key turns’ so we can guess it’s about someone turning a key into the lock of their home front door and perhaps returning from a good night out. 


We can go the linear logical route and guess the numerous streetlights are fooling the blackbird into singing at night: So as the key is being turned into the lock, the person might be very quiet as it is so very late; and they might be a little tipsy too, and doing that ‘extra quiet shuffle’ and in turn they can’t help but hear the blackbird song.  


There is more, but I don’t want to spoil the fun by over-explaining the haiku and my sometimes quirky process. Just know this, even what appears to be an extreme juxtaposition might have its logical connections and we can refer back to the six transitions listed above to break its code.




In my concluding thoughts, let’s look at one of my writing techniques, and how I feel haiku can be more than just one type of putting these intriguing sometimes contrary poems together. Alongside using the definitions of the transitions above,  I wonder if we could also think of haiku as a combination of storyboarding and storytelling techniques?



Storyboarding:

An important part of a preproduction process of showcasing images to show what’s going to happen in a finished piece.



Storytelling: 

The postproduction stage where we now invite the reader to be as active in our process, and join us in looking at the stars.



Let’s start with storyboarding:



I started with these words:


hands

clocks 

gloaming

evenfall


And now I’ll explain a little about each word choice:


hands:

Our hands are so important for gestures/communication, to be able to eat, to hold things, and each other.


clocks:

We regularly do things ‘by the clock’ governed by time, for work, for sleep, and all the activities in between.


gloaming:

A beautiful word from the early Middle Ages (England and southern and eastern Scotland) and now mostly a poetic term in Scotland. It’s the time of day when it’s not yet fully dark. For those who work certain shifts it might be that you walked to work or are heading home in the gloaming, as the city lights are being switched on.


evenfall:

the onset of evening; dusk.



Let’s look at Storytelling:



I have my images:


hands

clocks 

gloaming

evenfall



Let’s start from top to bottom:


Hands are often messengers aren’t they, and during the hours of dusk they can even be a little ethereal, communicating by accident or design, in animated discussion, whether we are able to talk, or using them while being vocally quiet.



The storytelling aspect is important in haiku, and we can only ‘show’ so much, because storytelling is in our blood, isn’t it?



I noticed I had the pronoun ‘our’ in my quick explanation about ‘hands’ so I will start the haiku with:


our hands


I often associate the movement of both our physical hands with hands of a clock, or is that just me!


Time to add a “connector” which are those little bits of grammar that can make or break or even elevate a haiku.


our hands as clocks


Connectors can be prepositions, conjunctions, even articles (a, an, the).


Now I realise I have twilight twice! We might regularly be told or instructed to avoid saying something twice, even though that happens in other types of poetry but I really want both, and although ‘gloaming’ is rarely used as a verb, I’m determined to keep it:



our hands as clocks gloaming



Now I need another preposition. Should I go with ‘among’ or ‘amongst’? I’m tempted to go with the lesser used and poetic ‘amongst’, as ‘among’ feels awkward this time. I considered ‘along’ but that took me into a different direction, and I wanted ‘our hands’ to be either about an individual explaining to someone else, or a group of friends, or family; or even simply finding myself amongst a group of people heading to a party with all their anticipatory excitement. The preposition ‘among’ didn’t have enough oomph for me so I decided on this:



our hands as clocks gloaming amongst



We know it could do with one more word at least. As this feels more like the time of nights drawing in, late Autumn or into Winter, I could have snow. But this is a poem about the dusk, and just dusk. So forgive me if I’m breaking any rules, but then perhaps the rules are bending for me to avoid being stiff imperatives.


The logical choice of ‘evening’ just doesn’t do it for me, again a little too mechanical and generic, although it pays to keep words simple in many haiku, exceptions are healthy too. 


Before I add the last word, I realise I need another connector, and as I’ve written an article about articles, yes really, I’m going for the definite article [the] and I have my final word right after that too!



our hands as clocks gloaming amongst the evenfall




The key image is the continuous flow and movement of our  hands into the gathering dusk, an almost luminous set of actions, as if our hands are glow-sticks. And maybe this group are taking turns at telling stories via anecdotes and jokes.


Which transition does this haiku use? Each of you might have a different idea, and why not, just have fun using the transitions in any way that you see fit to do so. 





First Published:

Haiku Society of America newsletter's Haiku Spotlight feature

(January 5th 2022) https://www.hsa-haiku.org





copyright notices

manga portrait©Alan Summers

The Unseen Go-Between in Haiku©Alan Summers




Alan Summers 

is founder of Call of the Page, and a twice Japan Times award-winning writer. 

  

web: www.callofthepage.org 



Alan is the main mentor and instructor for Call of the Page.


More about Alan Summers: 

https://thehaikureader.blogspot.com/2021/12/about-haiku-reader-editor-in-chief-alan.html



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