Monday, November 23, 2009

Monday Poetry Stretch - Hay(na)ku

I've found another new form that I would like to try this week. It's called hay(na)ku and was created in 2003 by poet Eileen Tabios. Here are the guidelines.

Hay(na)ku is a 3-line poem of six words with one word in the first line, two words in the second, and three in the third. There are no other rules and no restrictions on number of syllables or rhyme.

Need some examples? You can find some Hay(na)ku poetry contest winners at the Hay(na)ku Poetry blog. There is also a thoughtful essay about the form at Dragoncave.

As you'll see from the examples, some folks create poems comprised of several hay(na)ku strung together. So, what kind of hay(na)ku will you write? Leave me a note about your poem and I'll post the results here later this week.

18 comments:

  1. Fascinating.I found by using contractions, hyphenations, I could accomplish an actual poem. Here goes:

    The Widow Speaks

    Husband,
    Come back.
    I miss you.

    These
    One-way conversations
    Satisfy no one.

    If
    You cannot
    Come to me,

    I
    Must go
    Underground to you.

    Your
    Gray stone
    Beckons to me,

    The
    Words written
    On its surface

    A
    Printed invitation.
    Here’s my RSVP.

    I
    Will not
    Be too long.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Good
    morning Tricia
    I finally Stretch!


    before
    trying hay(na)ku
    must make lunches

    tofu
    soy sauce
    storebought chocolate pudding

    ReplyDelete
  3. Turkey
    sits waiting
    frozen solid, wrapped

    in
    plastic. Innards
    removed except for

    liver,
    gizzard, and
    heart soon to

    become
    additions to
    gravy, stuffing, or

    kept
    for the
    dog's thanksgiving treat.

    I
    ask: what
    would the Pilgrims

    think
    about our
    idea of thanks?

    This was fun! Have a great holiday, everyone!

    ReplyDelete
  4. Oh yay, Heidi's here! :) Okay, here's my gray Monday morning contribution:


    One
    leaf, shaken
    by windy envy.

    One
    bird, rewriting
    a November sky.

    One
    sound, alarm
    clock prodding me.

    One
    good morning
    in the mirror.

    One
    pillow, making
    half a bed.

    One
    lunch beside
    the front door.

    One
    bowl, one
    spoon and cup.

    Sometimes
    I forget
    lonely, but then

    Some
    days it
    eats me up.

    --Kate Coombs (Book Aunt), 2009

    ReplyDelete
  5. Thanks, Jane. I have to tell you, I keep sending your grief poems to my mom, who lost my dad nearly five years ago and formed a small grief group of widows. She became somewhat less lost and stricken only last spring. (They were married 49 years, with big plans for their 50th that never happened.) It strikes me as strange that she and I, the seemingly always married and the never married, live a similar, why-bother-cooking-for-one lifestyle now.

    ReplyDelete
  6. Very touching poetry, ladies.



    Thanksgiving.
    Time to
    Stuff the turkey.

    Holidays.
    Time to
    Stuff the human.

    January.
    Time to
    Start your diet!

    --Kelly Polark, 2009.

    ReplyDelete
  7. Jane and Kate - such incredible poems this week!

    Mine is long; it's an answer to the question, "How can you stand it when your husband deploys?"

    When
    You leave
    A hole remains

    Email
    Does not
    Fill it, or

    Photographs,
    Or the
    Love notes you

    Tucked
    Away in
    Secret hiding places.

    How
    can you
    love a job

    That
    takes you
    so far away?

    I
    Picture you
    In the desert,

    Doing
    The job
    You trained for.

    The
    Work you
    Do in far-off

    Places –
    It matters
    To us both.

    “When
    Will daddy
    Be back home?”

    The
    Children ask.
    We count down

    Months
    And days
    On calendar squares.

    Our
    Family is
    Like the moon

    Waxing
    And waning
    Through your seasons

    It
    Has its
    Own special rhythm

    Daddy
    Here, daddy
    There, daddy home.

    When
    You leave
    A hole remains

    But
    Our love
    Fills it up.

    --Easter

    ReplyDelete
  8. I love this new form and all the posted poems, especially ones that lay their grief and longings bare. Thank you!

    STIRS UP MEMORIES

    I
    miss Mom
    as the holidays

    come
    upon us.
    The thought of

    her
    easy laugh
    and the sweet

    scent
    she wore
    stirs up memories.

    I
    can smell
    her creamed onions

    drifting
    through the
    house as I

    peel
    the skins
    of those small

    white
    elliptic beauties
    ready to drop

    them
    into a pot
    that she once

    used
    knowing full
    well her redolent

    essence
    will infuse
    this reminiscent dish.


    © Carol Weis. All rights reserved.

    ReplyDelete
  9. I think I agree with Carol. The short lines makes the grief and longing somehow more palpable. As if the poet is breathing shallowly, trying to contain the emotion.

    Jane

    ReplyDelete
  10. Wow, Kate - nice poem.

    I challenged some students recently to write a nursery rhyme and to strange it up, give it the weird feel that some old nursery rhymes have. And when I ask my students to do it, I think I should try. Kate's "One..." poem above made me think I should try a counting rhyme:

    Ten
    leaves falling,
    nine hang on,

    Eight
    winds blowing -
    going, going, gone.

    Seven
    to Heaven.
    Six to sea.

    Five
    says Four,
    please marry me.

    Three
    leaf babies
    in a swirl,

    Two
    Leaf Boys,
    one Leaf Girl.

    ----------------------
    (Gad...Paradise couldn't be better than lunch recess and a jump rope, could it? )

    ReplyDelete
  11. I really like Jane's breathing analogy, also Julie's "stranging it up," which makes me want to write a nursery rhyme. They really are weird, aren't they? Thanks for the compliment, Julie. And on the subject of thankfulness, thanks to Tricia for giving us a cool little poetry workshop. Sometimes I get so caught up in my longer writing that I forget to write poems, which is a Bad Thing. Happy Thanksgiving to all you Stretchers! (Hmm. Perhaps a better nickname. The Rubber Band? Bubble Gums?)

    ReplyDelete
  12. I'll echo Kate's praise for poets stretching here and thanks to Tricia for making Mondays fun. Must go bake my back-up turkey now! Happy Thanksgiving, All!

    ReplyDelete
  13. This is amazingly freeing but powerful form that I look forward to playing with more. All the previous poems are so wonderful! I'm trying just a few quick ones but I will continue to work with this form as it is close to the haiku which I enjoy. I loved the idea of reversing the order.



    jangled leash calls
    snoring dog
    awake

    ***

    grandmother's rosewater perfume
    calls back
    yesterday


    ***

    families
    gather happily
    but not mine

    mine
    pretend invisibility
    breaking grandma's heart

    ***

    ReplyDelete
  14. I've repeatedly tried to write something thankful, but the only words that come out are lose of loss.

    Impossible
    is bringing
    my father back

    but
    that’s exactly
    what I want

    one
    more day
    alone with him

    watching
    his strong
    hands at work

    listening
    to strains
    of Dixieland jazz

    silently
    working together
    side by side

    Difficult
    is filling
    the enormous hole

    In
    my heart
    and our family


    Thank you all for coming back so often and sharing your work. Your poems inspire and keep me writing.

    Happy Thanksgiving to you all.

    ReplyDelete
  15. The poems are wonderful. It's amazing how much can be said with a few short lines. My pies are in the oven so I thought I'd see what I could come up with.



    An Invitation

    Children
    now grown-
    far from home.

    Sharing
    this holiday
    with their in-laws.

    Spending
    our first
    year without them.

    Might
    be fun-
    trying something new.

    Thanksgiving
    for two-
    How about it?

    You
    and me-
    dinner by candlelight?

    ReplyDelete
  16. The Hunger Games
    By Suzanne Collins

    A
    new continent
    has been born

    The
    name of
    it is Panem

    A
    country of
    cruelty and poverty

    The
    leaders have
    brought Hunger Games

    Where
    Children must
    fight to death.

    My
    sister was
    chosen for it

    A
    weak,twelve
    year-old girl

    So
    I volunteered
    to replace her

    Now,
    I will
    fight for survival

    I
    can only
    hope to live.

    Poem By Meredy

    ReplyDelete
  17. Poem by Hannah Wallace

    The Truth About Forever
    by Sarah Dessen

    The
    best dad
    I could've had.

    Without
    him here
    no more running

    The
    "Oh, poor-dear"
    face I hate

    I'm
    secretly hiding
    dad's infomerical orders

    Jason
    at camp
    long summer ahead

    Email
    checking miss
    you a lot

    Taking
    break over
    "I love you"

    Library
    job boring
    Wish Catering exciting

    Caroline
    thinking redo
    the beach house

    ReplyDelete