Haiku Heaven

In childhood, he was called Kinsaku. The name Basho (banana tree) was adopted around 1681 after moving into a hut with a banana tree next to it. He was called Matsuo Munefusa in his later days.

Basho's father was a low-ranking samurai (Iga Province). Basho serviced for the local lord, Todo Yoshitada (Sengin), to become a samurai. It turns out Yoshitada liked to write haikai, and in his service, Basho began writing poetry with the pen name Sobo.

Basho was a travel junkie, taking many trips throughout Japan. He died while on a trip, in Osaka. It seems Basho had haiku and travel on his mind even then. His last haiku says:

Fallen sick on a journey,
In dreams I run wildly
Over a withered moor.

Yosa Buson was born in the village of Kema in Settsu Province in 1716. He was a poet and a painter, and along with Basho and Issa, Buson is revered as a great poet of the Edo period.

Buson moved to Edo (now Tokyo) around the age of 20 and studied poetry with haikai master Hayano Hajin. Buson moved to Shimo-Usa Province after Hajin died. Like Matsuo Basho, Buson traveled northern Honsho (the inspiration for Basho's famous travel diary, The Narrow Road to the Deep North).

After extensive traveling, Buson put down roots in Kyoto. He was 42, and began writing under the pen name of Yosa.

When 45, Buson put on the ball and chain. He had one daughter named Kuno. Buson taught, and continued writing, in Kyoto. After 1770 he wrote under the name Yahantei (Midnight Studio), the same name his teacher, Hayano Hajin, had used.

Buson died at age 68, and was buried in Kyoto.

Issa was born Kobayashi Yataro, part of a peasant family of present-day Shinanomachi, Nagano prefecture. His mother died when Issa was three and he was then in the care of his grandmother. His father remarried five years later and a half-brother to Issa was born two years after that. At the age of 14, Issa's grandmother passed away, leaving Issa a moody loner who liked wandering the fields. Apparently, the stepmother didn't care for Issa's adolescent attitude, and Issa was sent to Edo (present-day Tokyo) to make his own living at 15. The following ten years of his life is an historical blank.

Issa continued his wandering through Japan. When his father died in 1801, Issa came away with rights to half of the property his father left, in spite of his step-mother's attempt to leave him out in the cold. At 49, he returned to his native village and married Kiku. Their first-born dies shortly after birth, and also their second less than two-and-a-half years later. Issa wrote:

The world of dew --
A world of dew it is indeed,
And yet, and yet . . .

Issa lost yet another child in 1820. Kiku passed away in 1823. Twice more, Issa tied the knot. According to the Western Calendar, Issa died on January 5, 1828 in his native village, leaving behind a large body of writing.

There is a strong tradition of 17-syllable haiku in English, particularly dating from the spurt of haiku appreciation in the 1960's. Many authors wished to respect the Japanese structure, seeing that as one of the key defining aspects of the historical form, and thus aimed their own efforts into a 5-7-5 mold.

However, the English and Japanese languages are very different in their grammar and syllabic rhythms such that the typical Japanese haiku is generally translated most directly into around 12 English syllables, with variable line lengths.

Some authors have attempted to define an alternative haiku form which would more closely approximate the length of a Japanese haiku while demanding the discipline of a set structure. Advocates of this approach often recommend guidelines of 3-5-3 syllables or 2-3-2 accented beats, as closest approximations to that goal.

autumn rain --
the weathered tire swing
overflows ~ ACM ~

Today, haiku is a flexible form for brief, vivid capture of single moments of time, the writing of which allows one to both share those "aha moments" with others and to become more open to them oneself.

From an essay by A.C. Missias

tea cup
on the map of Vietnam-
leaving a stain

~ Ruth Holzer ~
***

moonglow . . .
just me, the drunk
and his honesty

~ Tyrone McDonald ~
***

moon blossoms . . .
her body prepared
for viewing

~ Francine Banwarth ~
***

Loretta last night
and now the lottery-
losing again

~ Mykel Board ~
***

as their boat floats
out of the tunnel of love
they move apart

~ Cor van den Heuvel ~

I want to be close
to you. Can I fit my head
inside your armpit?

~ anonymous ~