The Real “Rules” of Haiku
This article is for: Beginner and Intermediate poets
The haiku vies with the sonnet for the title of Best Known Poetic Form There Is.
Which is perhaps a bit surprising, because it doesn’t have that long of a history in English, relatively speaking: English-speaking poets only started using it about a hundred years ago (though of course in Japan it goes back many centuries).
However, there’s something about this cheeky little form, a mere 17 syllables long, that appeals to many different kinds of poets for many different kinds of topics, and there’s no doubt they can be a real joy to write.
And if you’re still honing your skills as a poet, I think haiku are well worth doing, for what they can teach you about observation, concision, structure, and surprise.
“Rules” for Writing Haiku
All you need is 5-7-5—or not?
The traditional Japanese haiku has a large number of rules—a surprising number, given its short size!
But (as with the sonnet) modern usage has stripped away a lot of these.
In fact, one way of defining a haiku is that it is a poem of 17 syllables in 3 lines, like this:
5 syllables in the first line
7 syllables in the second line
5 syllables in the last line.
And according to that definition, the following drivel would be a haiku:
The train on Platform
Seven will depart for York
at 8:51.
This is clearly neither poetry nor a haiku!
Yes, it has the 5-7-5 pattern, but it needs something else to make it even close to poetry (or maybe a LOT of things!).
To find out what else we need to add to the 5-7-5 pattern to make a real poem, let’s go back to the other rules of the traditional haiku.
The haiku depicts a moment of insight
The most important of these other rules is that the haiku conveys a single moment where the poet suddenly sees or realizes something.
In this way of thinking, the haiku is a lightning bolt—fast, clear, and striking, it shows a whole panorama of thought in a single flash.
For example, here’s a wonderful haiku by the most famous haiku writer of all, Japanese poet Basho:
Even in Kyoto—
hearing the cuckoo's cry—
I long for Kyoto.
Here, the sudden moment of realization is that the things we long for, especially in spring, are not actually the things we tell ourselves we long for (in this case, the Japanese capital city of Kyoto), but our dreamed or imagined versions of those things (in other words, the idea of a perfect, lively city).
You see how clumsy that was for me to explain? And how many more syllables it took me than the poem needed (I make it 80!)?
Isn’t the haiku just so much better as a way of putting it?
That’s what makes a haiku, a haiku: some amazing thing, that the poet has never realized before, brought vividly to life.
The haiku is based on observation
In the traditional haiku, the insight and the images always come from observation of the natural world.
So in the Basho haiku about Kyoto, he couldn’t just say
Even in Kyoto—
I long for Kyoto.
because there would be no nature in it!
However, since then things have relaxed a lot, and you do not need to write haiku only about nature (though many still do, and you totally can).
But whatever topics you pick, the observation part is still very relevant.
I said above that “the haiku conveys a single moment where the poet suddenly sees or realizes something”—and one way of thinking of the haiku is as a way of recording flashes of insight in your observations of the world.
Those observations could be of nature, or they could be of entirely other things:
How warm your socks felt on a cold morning
The feeling of acceleration as you pass a slower car
Unexpected gratitude for an action someone did for you
Suddenly seeing how algebra unlocks the world of numbers
…for example.
But viewing the haiku as a way to package up and convey your best observations is no bad way to think of it.
The haiku breaks into two parts
This is a lesser-known haiku rule, but I really like it.
The rule says that the haiku contains two separate parts:
A section that creates an image (often the first two lines, but not always)
Then another section which is different but connected—perhaps suggesting an interpretation of the first image, perhaps suggesting a contrast.
I love this rule because it helps you give your haiku complexity and roundedness, despite the brevity.
In the Basho poem above, for example, the first two lines set up the first image: the poet is in Kyoto and hears a cuckoo.
But then the final line is what takes the poem to another place entirely, and makes it so wonderful. The conclusion he comes to about what the cuckoo means to him is surprising and deepens the meaning of the poem immeasurably.
I think this rule is always worth following, not least because it teaches you how to break patterns and make unexpected connections in all your poems.
Wave goodbye to 5-7-5?
OK, so where are we now with these rules?
The haiku has a 5-7-5 syllable pattern.
The haiku gives a moment of insight.
The haiku is (usually) based on observation.
The haiku has two parts.
Now let’s look at one of my favorite haiku, by a modern master of the form, Nick Virgilio:
bass
picking bugs
off the moon
Does this have a moment insight? Yes, it does—the instant when the poet realizes that from the point of view of the fish, bass are eating their meals from the moon, not the water (and again, see how much longer it takes me to explain that in prose!)
Is it based on observation? Yup, sure is—hello, fish in the water!
Does it have two parts? Yes, the last line reverses the perspective, so we’re seeing from the fish’s point of view instead of the human’s.
Does it have a 5-7-5 syllable count? Well, of course it must—it’s a haiku, right? Let’s count: 1-3-3 …
Oh. Not 5-7-5 at all. What’s going on here?
Well, in contemporary poetry, it’s the rule about “a moment of insight” that is really used to define something as a haiku.
The 5-7-5 count has given way!
There are good reasons for this. Historically, the thing the Japanese count 5-7-5 of is not the same as what we call a syllable, so actually many Japanese haiku are actually shorter on syllables than 5-7-5.
Also, I’ve kind of missed out a couple of other rules:
Haiku should be clear and direct, with strong images
Haiku should be compact and concise.
So if Virgilio needs only seven syllables to make his point, clearly and powerfully, with strong images, then he certainly should not have to pad that out with unneeded syllables.
To use the 5-7-5, or not?
If you’re confused, don’t worry— the 5-7-5 vs. shorter debate is an opportunity, not a problem.
You can totally use the 5-7-5 rule if you find it useful—and it can greatly help to shape your raw material into a poem.
In fact, if you’re just starting with haiku, then I definitely recommend sticking to the 5-7-5 for a while.
But if you’re finding that the 5-7-5 is unwieldy, or forcing you to say too much, then you can also make your poem shorter—thus making it more concise.
In other words, use 5-7-5 for as long as it helps you, and when it stops helping you, ditch it!
At last: the Real “Rules” of Haiku!
Someone is bound to disagree with me here, but this is what I suggest you use as rules for your haiku:
Your haiku should aim to convey a moment of insight, probably from something you’ve observed, either in the world or in your mind and heart.
Write your haiku in three lines. Use the 5-7-5 syllable count for as long as you find it helpful, and when you don’t, don’t.
Write with directness, using clear images.
Find a way to break the haiku into two parts, with the second part creating a contrast or surprise after the first one.
And enjoy exploring what you can do with haiku!
Next Steps
Wherever you are, look closely at something that’s in front of you (book, table, dog, flower…).
Study this object for a few minutes, and think about it in as many ways as you can. For example:
—Where it came from
—How it was made, created, or grown (as applicable)
—How/where/when it was acquired
—How it has been used
—What its appearance shows about its history
—What people have thought of it
—What it would say if it could speak.Take one moment of insight from that process, and work it into two lines: one of 5 syllables and one of 7 syllables.
Then take another aspect of your thinking, and add it to the poem as a final line of 5 syllables.
And that should give you a first draft of a haiku!