My friend Brian and I had a friendly disagreement about haiku today.  I'd call it a gentlemen's disagreement if I didn't think Brian would look over his shoulder and say “who walked in?”    As the title suggests, the question was: can haiku rhyme? Brian felt that if it rhymes it's not haiku, and I felt otherwise…

We're looking down on
Wayne's basement. Only that's not
Wayne's basement. Isn't that weird?

On Rhyme

haiku: an unrhymed verse form of Japanese origin having three lines containing usually 5, 7, and 5 syllables respectively; also : a poem in this form usually having a seasonal reference — compare TANKA

Brian felt unrhymed means no rhymes allowed.  Whereas I felt it meant “no special effort made to make it rhyme”.  Brian stuck hard and fast to the former definition though, seeming to feel that if it rhymed, it was not haiku.

As far as I was concerned it was the meter that was important, number of syllables, number of lines.  If it happened to rhyme, no biggie it was still haiku.  Most of the sites I found when I checked on the subject of rhyme in haiku said similar things–”usually doesn't rhyme”, “rarely rhymes”, and so forth.  There did not appear to be a hard and fast RULE that a haiku cannot rhyme.

Which meant, as far as I was concerned, that it could.  I said to Brian that popular usage tends to trump the dictionary.  If rhyming haiku are accepted as haiku by the general populace, then that's what haiku are.

And having done a lot more research since then I feel much more assured of that there is actually no rule that a haiku cannot rhyme.

Rhyme, apparently, is western.  Japanese poetry does not rhyme.  When the literary giants of ancient Japan committed their thoughts to words, they didn't sit there going “now I can't use that word because it rhymes with that one”–they simply chose the words that they thought happened to capture the emotion, image, or idea they wanted to convey.  If some of them rhymed, it was by accident, and the author and listener would likely not notice.  Word sound may have been important, but not with respect to rhyme.

In the west we pay attention to rhyme.  Which is why a western dictionary is going to point out that haiku (which is to say haiku written in Japanese) don't rhyme.  Because otherwise if you tell a westerner “…a haiku is a three line poem…” the westerner is going to hear POEM and think RHYME.

None of this means that if you write a haiku, it can't rhyme.  A purist might argue otherwise, but then, if you're going to get literal, it really needs to be written in Japanese doesn't it?  All this means is that any traditional Japanese haiku you read is not going to rhyme unless somebody added rhyme in translation.  Here's a translation of one of my favorite haiku which rhymes:

The piercing chill I feel:
my dead wife's comb, in our bedroom,
under my heel …

– Taniguchi Buson

It doesn't rhyme in the original Japanese of course but once you translate it to English it really doesn't matter whether it rhymes or not, and I think the rhyme gives it more power.  The sound enhances the sense.

Here's a great article on rhyme in English haiku by Charles Trumbull which I found most interesting, it makes clear that while rhyme in English haiku is frowned upon by many, using rhyme does not make the piece not-haiku.  The article cites an absolutely gorgeous piece by Ethel Freemen which won an award from the Journal of American Haiku in 1967:

Brown mimosa seed
where blossoms once invited
hummingbirds to feed.

Do you think Ethel would still have won if she had said “many hummingbirds” or “hummingbirds to eat”?  I wonder, but surely if the Journal of American Haiku is willing to accept this piece, then I think you can't deny that even a haiku with intentional rhyme may still be considered a haiku.

On Meter

Which got us onto the subject of the number of lines and syllables.  Brian felt that if I am willing to allow rhyme in haiku, then I must be prepared to accept lines of 5-8-5 syllables, or 3-5-3 syllables as haiku.  He jocularly told me that he was going to start a movement writing 3-5-3 poems and calling them haiku to get that meaning “into the popular usage”. 

I disagreed, I felt that it was far more important to hit the appropriate lines and syllables when writing haiku.  I said “In the poetic animal, rhyme is fur-color and meter is number of legs.  If it doesn't have eight legs, it's not a spider.  If it's pink… well maybe it's not a spider.”

Brian noted that it depended on the format.  He's right, in a limerick, we tend to be forgiving on beats, but the rhyme scheme is pretty much required to be AABBA.  Brian began arguing that if I could have rhyming haiku, he could have free verse limericks.  I don't think he actually believed that to be the case, I think he felt my argument was ridiculous, and he was attempting to illustrate that by means of a similarly ridiculous argument.

So we had some fun trying to write a free verse limerick for a bit, which I will spare you, but I wrote a different one which I will include below.

Throughout the discussion Brian and I taunted each other via haiku.  Yes as usual, a discussion between me and Brian devolves into silliness, even when we disagree.  Here are a few of Brian's haiku:

Chuck is mad
I changed the meter
Is this haiku?

“right” should have been “write”
“right” was wrong for the above
Chuck made an error

You're a big butthead
“Colossal” may be better
You and your Haiku rhymes

That's not a Haiku
Your rhymes were intentional
Quit being a prat

And here are a few of mine, many deliberately rhyming so as to annoy Brian:

My dear friend Brian– A literalist is he– At least he's tryin'. Dictionaries play Catch up because popular Usage wins. Always. My chances blossom My victory is assured Because you're awesome.* Evidence gains mass But Bri can't cast off his chains The pain in the ass.

* I once told Brian that I had found the secret to avoiding conflict when anyone asks you a “why” question to which they would not like the truthful answer.  The winning approach is to say “Because you're awesome.”  I mean really, who can argue with that? Why didn't you do what I asked you to?    Because you're awesome. Why isn't my stuff where I left it?    Because you're awesome. Why did you eat my brownie?    Because you're awesome.

I suggested to Brian that he call his 3-5-3 haiku “Briku”, and we had some fun writing Briku as well.  I told him I was out to destroy the Briku movement by writing the worst Briku I could come up with.

In the end when it came to meter, we both stuck to our guns.  Turns out we were both wrong.

The number of syllables is a guide, but one is allowed to deviate from it occasionally if it would best suit the flow and harmony of the piece, particularly in languages other than Japanese.  Alexey Andreyev notes this in his wonderful article The Definition of Haiku:

[...] 5-7-5 syllables in 1st-2nd-3d lines.

Also optional:  firstly,  even Basho broke that rule. Secondly, we don't write in Japanese — the average Japanese syllable has different length and bears the different “amount of meaning” as  compared to those of other languages;  thus “[the] holy 17 [syllables]” can't be saved so formally. When  poets  write  or translate haiku into their language they try to save haiku spirit, and somehow imitate the Japanese form (the length  of  the lines,  the breaks) – but at the same time they take into account the common patterns of their own language so  that it sounds natural.  This [is why] most of Russian translations of classic Japanese haiku have about 20 syllables;  on the other hand, a haiku in English, according to W. Higginson's “The Haiku Handbook“, is better when it's about 12 syllables:

old pond…
a frog leaps in
water's sound

   Basho

See, there is no need to stuff it with more syllables; everything is clear and reads well. [...]

The “Basho” he refers to is Basho Matsuo, recognized as one of the first great poets of Haiku.

So if rhyme really doesn't matter, as most sources I found seem to say, and number of syllables (and apparently number of lines) also doesn't matter, then what does matter for a haiku to really be a haiku?

What Makes a Haiku?

Actually it turns out that there are some important requirements you won't find in western definitions of haiku (except perhaps as suggestions.)

One is the kigo, or the “season word”.  Haiku are supposed to identify a season or time of year, and generally haiku are about nature or framed within nature in some way.  Hence the season is important.  The season word can either be straightforward (mentioning winter or spring, for example), or hinted at.  In Basho's piece above, the season word is 'frog', as it implies summer.  Some English translations might end up leaving out the seasonal concept or choose a less powerful word if while trying to meet the optional 5-7-5 rule.

Secondly is the “cutting word“.  Generally a haiku is divided into two concepts.  In Japanese a cutting word is used to separate the concepts of the haiku.  These cutting words have no English translation.  They are verbal exclamations intended to end a clause, and in English translations of haiku, they generally become punctuation.  The “…” in Basho's piece about the old pond above is taking the place of an actual word in the original Japanese.  Given that some of the Japanese syllables are turning into punctuation in English, it seems very artificial to attempt to force the 5-7-5 scheme, unless you're going to pull a Victor Borge and pronounce the punctuation marks! 

However this implies that a haiku in English should include both a kigo word and a pause that separates two concepts harmonically.

The Japanese have a name for a poem that follows the structure of a haiku but does not include a season word–senryu.  If I write a haiku that doesn't include the kigo, generally it is not considered a haiku.  It is senryu.  Senryu can be humorous, address politics, or whatever.

Still even senryu require the cutting word divided two-concept structure.

Which means that all the “haiku” Brian and I wrote above were not true haiku, and perhaps not even senryu… just doggerel from guys who are fooling about with language.

Here are some attempts I made at haiku earlier today which were closer to the spirit of haiku, but I think only two of them actually qualify:

Sometimes I regret
Making the right decisions.
Why don't I feel pride?

The cedar's skin
Like paper peels and curls.
The wrens shall nest well.

The inchworm circles
The wooden picnic table–
No dinner tonight.

The first is senryu I think, the latter two, haiku, although my pause comes in the second line, and Japanese haiku tend to translate with the pause in the first line.

The Church of Latter-Day Anti-Rhymers

I couldn't leave this subject without touching on a minor pet peeve of mine, and that is the trend among modern poetry to avoid rhyme.  Rhyme, the formerly celebrated requirement that added challenge and sonic beauty to poetry, is nowadays mostly looked down upon as an “artificial” construct which gets in the way of “pure” poetic expression.

Know what?

If it was good enough for Robert Frost, it's good enough for me.

Any yutz can string together free verse and call it poetry, adding rhyme and highly structured rhythm requires more skill, not less.  Which is not to disparage free verse or its practitioners, which I highly respect, but I balk at the idea that rhyme is “passe”.

IMHO a truly great poem requires both sound and sense–too much of one and not enough of the other is probably not a healthy diet for the soul.

There's a reason why Frost chose to say “But I have promises to keep / And miles to go before I sleep.” instead of “But I've got obligations / And a long way to go before I hit the sack.”

Conclusion

So in summary, my opinion, based on my research and personal experience is that a haiku:

• may rhyme but usually doesn't
• is typically three lines but can be less or more
• is typically 17 syllables (5-7-5) but can be less or more
• should include a kigo (season word), and if it doesn't it may be a senryu instead
• should include two concepts with a pause between them

Oh and of course, Brian is awesome.    Brian and I are both writing about this subject tonight.  I know his post went up hours ago, but I have not read it, because I didn't want to style my article as a response to his.  Here's a link to Bri's article.

Nonrhyming Limerick

Oh yeah, I promised a nonrhyming limerick didn't I.  Okay, here's one.

This guy who ate a burrito
Went to the beach in a swimsuit.
While strolling, alas,
He had a wet fart,
And had to flee to California.

Okay, now here's the rhyming version:

This guy who ate a burrito
Went to the beach in a speedo.
While strolling, alas,
He passed more than gas,
And had to flee to Escondido.

 Now of course that never really happened, but I can't resist funning with Brian any more than he can resist funning with me.  And I certainly hope he writes a limerick that pokes fun at me at his earliest convenience! 

Bibliography

These sites all provided information of one sort or another useful to this article.  Many of these pages have beautiful examples of haiku (rhyming and nonrhyming) that you may enjoy:

• Rhyming Haiku by Charles Trumbull
   
• The Definition of Haiku by Alexey Andreyev
   
• History of Haiku, Chapter Two, Basho Matsuo by Ryu Yotsuya
   
• Haiku : Cutting Words
   
• On Translation: Rhyme and Form by E. Bruce Brooks
   
• Imagery by D. Taylor
   
• A CALL FOR THE COMPLETE ELIMINATION OF JOKE HAIKU PRODUCTION ON THE INTERNET — A Proposal to the Internet Community by Paul H. Henry
  (Yes, he's serious. This article was actually very interesting, you should read it.  Mr. Henry is opinionated but I found myself in agreement with a lot of what he had to say.)
   
• Other Forms of Poetry by Don J. Carlson
   
• Merriam-Webster Online: Haiku (defined)
    
• Wayne's World Quotes

---