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Books by Kalamu ya
Salaam
The Magic of JuJu: An Appreciation of the Black Arts
Movement /
360:
A Revolution of Black Poets
Everywhere Is Someplace Else: A Literary Anthology
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From A Bend in the River: 100 New Orleans Poets
Our Music Is No Accident /
What Is Life: Reclaiming the Black Blues Self
My Story My Song (CD)
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ON WRITING HAIKU
By Kalamu ya Salaam
Haiku is a Japanese poetry form which
structurally consists of three lines and a total of 17 syllables
(five on the first and third lines, and seven on the second
line). There are other variations of form and other structural
aspects to haiku writing, but those are the elements I choose to
use.
Two writers directly influenced me to write
haiku: Richard Wright and Sonia Sanchez. While still in junior
high school in the late fifties I read Wright's wonderful haiku
about the little boy standing in the snow holding out his hand
until it turned white. At that time I was totally under the
influence of Langston Hughes, so while I admired the Wright
haiku, I felt no impulse to emulate the form or the tone of what
Wright wrote. Many years later in preparation for a major
article of literary criticism, I had in-depth conversations with
Sonia Sanchez about writing. She told me about writing haiku
when she couldn't write anything else because of time or other
constraints. Sanchez pointed out that writing haiku helped hone
her poetic skills, especially in choosing words and streamlining
her writing, moreover, haiku were short, pithy, very specific,
and once you finished one, you had a feeling of accomplishment.
But haiku was not yet in my blood even though I thought I
understood what Sanchez was saying.
Then I went through a divorce. In retrospect,
I realize now that I stayed as busy as I could as a defense
mechanism to deal with the pain I was feeling. That's when I
really began to understand what Sanchez told me; that was also
when I seriously started writing haiku. In that context, it is
easy to appreciate this early haiku:
| haiku #18 anesthetized by
exhaustive activity
my hurt hurts me less
|
Since the mid-80s I
have written over 150 haiku and have had dozens of them
published, most notably the erotic haiku in Erotique Noire/Black
Erotica and in the follow up anthology Dark Eros. The April 1995
issue of Essence magazine also published six haiku in a feature
on New Orleans. People who know of my proclivity to use blues
and jazz forms and influences in my writing sometimes express
surprise that I use the haiku form. I laugh. Why not? I'm
African American; we'll use any and everything in our own way
and make art out of it.
Since joining the
Free Southern Theatre in 1968, I have been an active proponent
of the Black Arts and have constantly attempted to develop a
theory and practice of a Black aesthetic in my writing.
In haiku, I knew I
wanted to deal with at least three different elements: rhythm,
rhyme and raw sound -- plus, the haiku needed to carry the
weight of irony. Of course, I did not expect each poem to
contain every element but I was striving to have each poem
manifest at least one of those properties. I did not study any
traditional haiku nor read any books on writing haiku. I was not
interested in learning the Japanese tradition. I wanted to write
haiku that not only thematically addressed the Black experience,
but, also and more importantly, structurally exemplified a Black
aesthetic.
For me this was more
than simply a technical question of how to write haiku on paper,
it was also a question of how to perform haiku. I would not
consider myself successful until I had figured out how to recite
haiku with the same force and intensity as I did my blues and
jazz based poetry.
This was a left
brain/right brain problem. I needed a creative approach for the
performance and a technical approach for the writing. I stored
it away and let my subconscious work on the performance part.
The writing part was
easy once I specifically identified the literary theoretical
precepts I wanted to use. In less than five years I wrote over a
hundred haiku--I have since slowed down the production of haiku
because I am consciously concentrating on other poetic forms and
other genres of writing. As I perfected my techniques, I would
go back and rewrite earlier haiku. I moved away from similes and
went straight into metaphors and personifications. I also began
incorporating some of traditional haiku techniques such as using
images of the natural world as an extension of the human self.
One haiku in
particular illustrates the deepening development of my
technique. This is a poem which started out as a simple
expression of longing and the loneliness of separation. The
poetic motif was the use of the rain/earth image except that I
switched the normal associations and made the rain the female
element and the earth the male element. This switch is not
apparent unless the reader knows I am a male or unless myself or
another male orates the haiku. The first published version of
the poem is:
| haiku #107
I think of you as
rain and I as dry earth
cracked
beneath cloudless sky |
When I rewrote the haiku, the first thing I
did was remove the similies ("as") and dropped the
cognitive reflective ("I think of"). The poem is
thereby made more direct. I also decided to introduce another
concept: one suffers a lonely existence while the other party
engages in a productive relationship. Finally, I wanted to
emphasize the dry/sky rhyme. Thus, I wrote:
| haiku #107b
your rain wets other
fields, my parched earth
cracks, breaks, dry
beneath cloudless sky |
Haiku #107 is an example of using nature and
seasonal imagery (which is another aspect of traditional
Japanese haiku). However, I also deal with the Afro-centric
tradition of proverbs, mother wit and "mama say." Such
poems may or may not employ the use of nature imagery such as
illustrated by these two haiku. The first employs a blues based
imagery and the second is just straight up african proverb in
structure.
| haiku #1
there's no night so long
that we can not ride
through / to
taste tomorrow's dawn |
Haiku #1 is built on a repetitive opening
rhythm ("no night so long") and closing rhythm
("tomorrow's dawn") which is emphasized by the
half-rhyme of long/dawn. The bridge employs the "t"
sound ("through to taste to..."). Additionally the
sounding of the bridge section overlaps the closing rhythm and
helps to stress the final word of the haiku, so that the closure
sounds natural as though this is where the poem is supposed to
end. Thus I attempted to achieve a musical flow.
| haiku #100
what we know limits
us, wisdom loves
everything
not yet understood |
The proverb-based haiku #100 builds itself on
the use of irony and makes no use of imagery and no specific use
of sound devices. However, the majority of my haiku consciously
employ sounding. In addition to the aforementioned use of rhyme
and rhythm, I used alliteration as a main device for achieving a
Black sound in my written haiku. I wanted to reach for the
syncretic creolization of an afrocentric oral/aural ethos mated
to eurocentric literary emphasis on text. Such a synthesis is a
hallmark of African disaporan art. This meant bringing together
concepts that were not usually thought of as part of a whole.
Beneath all of that I also wanted to maintain a complementary
feminine/masculine referencing in contradistinction to the
eurocentric privileging of patriarchy.
Here is an example which incorporates many elements of a
Black aesthetic.
| haiku #79
i enter your church,
you receive my offerings,
our screaming choirs merge |
First, from the standpoint of
rhythm--which incidentally is not usually a component of
haiku--this poem is written in threes, my variation on the
three/four musical rhythm common in gospel music. Thus the
emphasis is ONE-TWO-three. The "three" is an open
beat, meaning I could recite it ONE-TWO-three or
ONE-TWO-three/three/three/three-ONE-TWO-three. Usually, I recite
it rubato, without any particular rhythmic emphasis, but I keep
the three feel in mind so that the words are emphasized like
this:
I EN-TER your church
YOU RE-CEIVE my offering
OUR SCREAM-MING choirs mergeeeeee.
Unfortunately, there is nothing on the page
that can tell you how I am using rhythm except that I have set
the poem up with the emphatic words at the beginning of each
line. Additionally, each line opens with two words, the first
word is one syllable and the second word is two syllables, which
is also a reinforcement of the three feel, but it's a three
within the first two counts of the larger three.
The complementary expression is: the male
enters, the female receives and thereby the two merge into one.
Also, the dialectic of body and soul, flesh and spirit are
indicated by using the church image, hence the body, which is
flesh, is presented as sacred, and so forth.
The next example is a haiku which leans
heavily on the use of the long "ssss" sound and on its
complement, the long "ffff" sound, both of which
contrast with the short and abrupt "but" and
"eye." Notice, even though "but" and
"eye" fall at end points, the rhyme is set up with the
half rhyme of "flies" and "eye." If you
recite it alould you will immediately hear the connections. My
experimentation has been to go beyond what the poem means and
also dig deeply into how the poem sounds. Most haiku do not
focus on the sounding element precisely because most haiku don't
use a Black aesthetic.
| haiku #88
the pheasant flies but
beauty's feathered sheen
still shines
in the seer's eye |
Here is a more ambitious piece. I wanted to
write about sadness, the breaking up of one into two separate
pieces. I wanted to capture the feel of separation. I use rhyme
("gone/flown/song/sung" are all half rhymes), and
rhythm (the middle line sets up an interesting swing with the
use of the "s" sound repeated five times within seven
syllables), as well as image. The image alone would have been
sufficient, but the rhyme and rhythm emphasis add the
afrocentric. In this selection the last word,
"harmony" which is three syllables long contrasts
quite unharmoniously with all the preceding words which are
either one or two syllables long; in other words, it breaks the
unity that had been set up. The irony was that it is the word
harmony which breaks the rhythmic unity of the poem.
| haiku #123
love gone is bird flown
sad sunset song tartly
sung
without harmony |
Haiku #48 is what I call a
"perfect" haiku, meaning it has exactly seventeen
one-syllable words. Here is an example of using blues imagery.
This haiku is a direct variation on the blues line
"fattening frogs for snakes." I personify the night,
the quality of hurt, and then use a simile to make complete the
reference to the blues line. It is also a blues in the classic
a/a'/b structure, which is say a line, repeat the line with a
variation, and then respond to or comment on the line with a
third line. Here I completely rephrase the second (or a') line
but I keep the same basic image ("night moans" =
"arms of hurt" and "grip my waist" =
"snake round me").
| haiku #48
night moans grip my waist
the arms of hurt snake
round me,
i feel like a frog |
This next piece has a rather involved origin.
The basic line is taken from Ho Chi Minh who wrote "when
the prison doors fly open / the dragons fly out" referring
to political prisoners. I had learned that Ho Chi Minh lived for
a brief time in Harlem and had been influenced by Marcus Garvey.
When Nelson Mandela was released from prison I wanted to capture
the feel of that. Upon seeing Mr. Mandela step into the sunlight
what immediately struck me was the beauty of his smile. Also,
Malcolm X and George Jackson approached prison as a school. I
had read about imprisoned ANC militants also approaching
captivity as a school. Thus prison is alluded to as a cocoon.
Finally, it occurred to me that the whole process was one of
transformation. So, I wrote this haiku.
| haiku #112 (for Mandela)
emerging from jail
their dragon/our butterfly
his smile is so huge |
Some of the haiku are written in
the african proverb/"mama say" aphoristic form and
have nothing to do with the traditional haiku use of nature
images. Here is an example which I use to explain my
non-Christian approach to spirituality:
| haiku #58
black people believe
in god, & I believe in
black people. amen. |
Many people believe that poetry is based on
inspiration, but for poets who work in the griot tradition,
poetry--particularly praise poetry --is often commissioned by a
patron, community group, or other agency. This was the case with
sixteen haiku I wrote for Essence magazine which choose to print
six of the group of wide ranging haiku. Because I was writing
without knowing specifically what was to be in the section, I
decided to write widely varying styles and on a diversity of New
Orleans related subject matter. Here are two from that group.
The first is strictly a romantic, nature piece that suggests
partying in the French Quarter and the second also uses a nature
image to capture the spirit of people in New Orleans.
| Quarter Moon Rise
soft moon shimmers out
of cloudy dress, stirred
by night's
suggestive caress |
| The Spice Of Life
cayenne in our blood
we dance, eat, laugh, cry
& love
with peppered passion |
The final example is a recent erotic haiku.
When people hear my haiku they sometimes think that I have
cheated, that I have used more than seventeen syllables. This is
because of the use of rhythm, rhyme and alliteration which makes
the poem seem longer than it actually is.
| haiku #136
she soft tongue kissed my
thirsty skin quiet as a
breastfed baby's breath |
After a few years of developing my writing
technique I felt I was well on the road to using haiku as text,
but I still had to figure out how to make haiku work as speech.
I don't remember when the answer came to me. It was probably
when I heard a musical selection that reminded me of an Art
Ensemble of Chicago concert which I experienced in Atlanta. The
AEC performed one number entirely on large bamboo flutes with
shimmering gongs in the background. There was an incredible
quality of peace and tranquility achieved by using long, low
extended notes. I had already mastered the ability to mimic
musical instruments and the key was to figure out how to achieve
that feeling/sound. I tried and tried and eventually was able to
achieve a sound similar to a bass flute but not quite as mellow
as the big bamboo flute.
Once I had the sound, I figured then I could
improvise the words in the sense of repeat them, extend them,
repeat phrases, in-between blowing the flute notes. The key was
to get inside the sound completely. There is no set melody. No
set rhythms. I use however I am feeling at the moment, close my
eyes and listen to my breathing. As I begin reciting sometimes
it takes a minute to begin, sometimes longer. Generally I can
not do more than two or three haiku at a time because it takes
so much energy. But I had figured it out. The test, of course,
was to perform it. It works!
There is another component. I use microphone techniques which
I have learned not only from performing but also from radio
work. I know how to blow across, next to, and into a microphone
so that the noise of the air mixes with the sounds/words
emanating from my larynx to form the total sound of the haiku
presentation. At one point, I wondered could I do it without a
microphone. The answer was yes, as long as I was in a small room
and was very close to the audience.
What I had previously done in the long form,
in the blues and jazz forms, I could now achieve in the haiku
form -- I was close to figuring out a theory of Black poetics.
I knew that I had to have an audience and
that it had to be orated. Working with the haiku gave me a
missing part: how to put the aesthetics into the text so that
the piece could stand on its own as text and, at the same time,
serve as lyric for the ultimate oration of the selection. I have
been working on this for a number of years. Experimenting.
Studying. Talking with other poets. Actually, I have been
working on this for many, many years; it's just that over the
last five years I have been focused. Why?
On the one hand, reciting poetry was easy.
But explaining what I was doing and how I did it, was another
story. I knew there was a need to articulate the theory as well
as articulate the poem. Although feeling and intuition are a
major part of our aesthetic, these elements don't exclude the
development of cogent aesthetic theory. If we are to compete in
the arena of text we need both theory and practice.
On a personal level, I was also clear that if
my poetry was going to be published it had to achieve viability
on the page and be able to stand up as text in comparison to the
best of English-language poetry. I wanted to create a body of
poetry that would make a substantive contribution to the African
American literary tradition which is both competitive and
innovative. I was not in search of popularity -- what I wanted,
and have always wanted, was relevance.
As odd as it may sound, haiku helped me to
theoretically formalize my conception of a Black aesthetic for
literature. So how do I write haiku? As Blackly as I possibly
can. Yeah! *
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updated
9 April 2008 |