A quarter of a century ago, when I wrote haiku in English, I was conscious of the number of syllables and worked hard to fit them into a 5–7–5 pattern. Recently, however, when composing in English, I have been exploring the rhythm and form of language that suit the subject. I no longer count syllables so closely, which gives me greater freedom than before. Reading this year’s entries for the ITO EN Oi Ocha Shinhaiku Contest, I was struck by how people around the world compose their haiku so freely. Haiku functions as a tool for capturing those subtle yet decisive moments in everyday life. Pumpkins in Croatia, geckos in Indonesia, cattle in the United States, and wildflowers in Aichi all seem to have taken root in English as poetry.
Each of the winning haiku was likely inspired by things in the poet's everyday life, yet each expresses the poet's own feelings while resonating with a broad range of readers. The Grand Award-winning poem, on the theme of "pumpkins," depicts a scene from the harvest and conveys a sense of humor, one of the defining qualities of haiku. The Award for Excellence haiku about a "waiting room" captures a curious moment in which a plant and the poet seem mutually aware of each other. The haiku about the "backstroke," meanwhile, expresses a thought that perhaps no one actually has while swimming, but it uniquely captures the sensation of seeing only what lies behind you as you swim.
A quarter of a century ago, when I wrote haiku in English, I was conscious of the number of syllables and worked hard to fit them into a 5–7–5 pattern. Recently, however, when composing in English, I have been exploring the rhythm and form of language that suit the subject. I no longer count syllables so closely, which gives me greater freedom than before. Reading this year’s entries for the ITO EN Oi Ocha Shinhaiku Contest, I was struck by how people around the world compose their haiku so freely. Haiku functions as a tool for capturing those subtle yet decisive moments in everyday life. Pumpkins in Croatia, geckos in Indonesia, cattle in the United States, and wildflowers in Aichi all seem to have taken root in English as poetry.
Each of the winning haiku was likely inspired by things in the poet's everyday life, yet each expresses the poet's own feelings while resonating with a broad range of readers. The Grand Award-winning poem, on the theme of "pumpkins," depicts a scene from the harvest and conveys a sense of humor, one of the defining qualities of haiku. The Award for Excellence haiku about a "waiting room" captures a curious moment in which a plant and the poet seem mutually aware of each other. The haiku about the "backstroke," meanwhile, expresses a thought that perhaps no one actually has while swimming, but it uniquely captures the sensation of seeing only what lies behind you as you swim.