Prolegomena on Haiku

by mudrhetoric

a haiku is an explosion. it isn’t a form. the form and structure restrain and constrain the expression, but without that burst of sound, it rings hollow.

the haiku is more of an idea than a poem, as a poem it elicits with subtlety. it is only when one conceptualizes that it becomes vivid and verbally alive.

haikus pulsate and can be seen as beacons, as signposts guiding us to that larger picture.

the haiku is a hint. it’s only the edge, the outline, the briefest of sketches. it is intentionality (intentionalized).

haikus are a participatory event, in which we complete the poem’s task, its mission. it’s almost like a riddle, as we only receive one component of the story, and we must fill in the rest with our assumed (tacit) knowledge.

all the “typical” elements of a haiku can e non-existent, but as long as that sense of explosion … it can be classified as haiku. the other elements aren’t part of is essence. only the explosion is necessary. it’s essential.

at its heart, the haiku explodes

the spaces between aren’t empty. they’re intentional. they are left there as signposts. they guide you along your path. each “gap” in the haiku will touch off something inside each of us (fire a neuron) – we bring our own experience to it and it is this experience which we use to “completed” the haiku and it is that experience which allows for radial interpretation

a haiku can’t be nailed down. a haiku is felt. you know it in your gut. it is not a poem (with some words left off). it is a poem in-itself.

formal constraints, as the Occident understands them, seen as rigid strictures do not define, or act to categorize a haiku. a haiku is a word (?), a sentiment, a feeling, an epiphenomena – a trace left behind, a hint of a fragrance. stirring a memory/firing a neuron.

the haiku is empty space – full of suggestion. its completeness is as a flicker of thought. an escaping dream, fading to the haze that is nothing. striving to grasp, it eludes

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