It seems appropriate to have this discussion take place over a Peter Yovu haiku as he not too long ago warned in a review of the Red Moon Anthology of the dangers of having haiku presented in Mr. Giacalone’s “distinct style, form, technique or content.” That also brought with it healthy public discourse which included a sensible explanation from the publisher, Jim Kacian, as to how worthy haiku are annually judged for the title. I hope that this exchange will be as fruitful. I respect Peter Yovu’s seeking to expand this poetry through both his haiku and rather prolific commentary.

That ‘mosquito she too’ is written in 5-7-5 adds to its allure in a tongue-in-cheek way. To not see the lightness in Peter’s humor is to miss, in my opinion, one of the foremost elements of this haiku. I take pleasure in its ironical structure and the fact it stands contrary to the old maxim that if one word were taken out of the poem the meaning might change. There are at least a few that could be and the repetition would still be effective.

I also see at least a slight allusion to Alan Pizzarelli’s senryu in Cor van den Heuvel’s Haiku Anthology (p 150):

buzzZ
slaP
buzz

…with Yovu’s version coming with more meat around the bones. When comparing the two, Yovu’s rather forced philosophic assertion will appeal to readers who little mind a dose of subjectivity with their haiku. ‘Mosquito she too’ offers as much movement and rhythm as Pizzarelli with his onomatopoeic sounding. And this all takes nothing away from Pizzarelli’s ku. It reverberates in its own right among the haiku community. Of course it is the female mosquitoes who set out on their quest for blood, but the use of “she” twice allows for a woman to be included in this moment, sharing this same assertion that “she is.” There are shades of Descartes and his infamous “I think, therefore I am” in something as minor as a mosquito’s insistence that “it is” conveying the view that it too, is thinking and conscious. It’s hardly a stretch to find Issa’s infamous fly and the plea for it not to be swatted.

Sure, it’s not Peter Yovu’s best haiku; perhaps it’s just damn good. It’s one that speaks to Lee Gurga. It strikes me in a similar way. It’s a fine selection to share and open up this subsequent dialogue.

As Scott declared, we can anticipate this platform as being somewhat of a back-patting experience here in blogtown as poets are selecting haiku that have touched a chord with them and tastes will vary much as meals put before them would. Yes, there will be disapproval expressed, questions begging answers, a range of scrutiny; the good, the bad & the ugly, which at the end of the day works toward realizing one of the Foundation’s goals-to expand possibilities for our second century of English-language haiku.

As for some of the comments offered by David Giacalone, scaring new readership and prospective poets away, in his appeal for haiku “to have some distinct style, form, technique or content — and, therefore, that removing all such limitations on haiku in the name of being new and fresh makes it less likely that haiku will be respected outside the haijin community, not more” is not exactly a 21st Century approach to bringing in newbies or making our poetry known to the masses. Setting strict guidelines in these skeptic and hyper-realistic times would do more for provoking rebellion (perhaps only within?) than it would in terms of gaining the type of recognition that Giacalone is in search of. We’d like to be “out there” but this is hardly a feasible approach. Giacalone’s intentions are genuine but they do not speak the language of this era. I expect that I’ll be asked what this language is, as if I am ‘in the know’ to put forth such a notion. The very heart of this view may be found in the Hoshinaga Fumio interview in Richard Gilbert’s Poems of Consciousness in his shunning of formulaic haiku, the discussion of era, offering varied ways of using kigo, and his exhibiting admiral human qualities when seeking a psychologically deeper version of haiku, he admits that it is selfish and indulgent. What came out of that selfishness stands as some of the best haiku in the canon, such as:

Twenty billion light-years of perjury: your blood type is “B”

(Poems of Consciousness, p 172)

And we’ve heard our fair share of comments about how we ‘Roadrunner poets’-green behind the ears, go drinking that Richard Gilbert Kool-Aid but without his work, let me ask, where might English-language haiku be in 20 years? I’d like to know.

David Giacalone stated that “Gilding the haiku lily will probably repel more visitors than it will attract to our little frogpond.” I get that it’s an analogy, but these days what are the odds of a “haiku lily,” painted gold or laid bare, shown objectively and not told about, appealing to those outside the so-called pond? If given the choice between the two, in my estimation, in 2009, that “gilded lily” stands more of a chance, depending how it’s presented, as there is a universality about gold and it comes with personal qualities, psychosomatic entrances and exits. Let’s indulge, but not overdo it, at least not for everything we put down. If that’s what was meant by the analogy, it has some legs to stand on. It just came off sounding somewhat stuffy.

Mr. Giacalone also mentioned that “Babe Ruth struck out more often than he hit homers; his every at bat was not an example of a technique to be followed.” I think I get the point, but I don’t see Basho’s haiku written with “subjective tendencies” as strikeouts. I see them as poetic dimensions, the ability to try new things. As long as we are on that baseball tip, and having this discussion over a Yovu haiku, I consider him to be one of English-language haiku’s big hitters. An examination of Peter Yovu’s haiku through the years would give one a sense of where he has been, where he may be going as a poet, particularly in his opening up of his technique in varied ways, adjusting his swing. I cannot remember the last time I saw a haiku from him that didn’t at least make contact, but I will not follow him or any other poet as an example of technique and how haiku should or shouldn’t be written.

One of the most appealing features of this Haiku Foundation site is that it gets us talking about haiku and all the nuts and bolts behind how each poem is shaped. Discourse leads to possibilities of approaches being understood. We might attach postures and personalities to these short poems that wouldn’t have otherwise been there. To find commonality with Mr. Markowski in his suggestion that we seek publication in journals and magazines outside the “well-worn circuit” says much to me about the potential of these Foundation blogs to call us out of the cracks, to us get talking, scrutinizing and formulating perspectives, despite our differences. And they certainly are there.

Putting ourselves out there is one way of addressing at least part of David Giacalone’s stating that “without a distinct form, technique or content, haiku will continue to be seen by the rest of the poetry establishment as taking far too little effort to be taken seriously.” Aside from an objection to any well-defined form, technique and content rules in haiku, it seems we are all on the same page in terms of our seeking acceptance in the poetry community. As poets we are at liberty to dictate our own stylistic leanings and whether they appeal to mainstream editors remains to be seen. Why not test the waters? Look back on your introduction to haiku and recognize how much your views on it have been changed by poems that you’ve taken in. It would hardly be a surprise to find that scores of editors out there still think that the 5-7-5er is something of the norm, and it’s highly likely that they still think we are all going about this business of shaving adjectives and showing-not-telling. Regular submissions that say otherwise might reshape their beliefs. We share with them an array of poetic devices and something tells me that if a haiku applied, say, personification, it might catch an editor’s eye, might question any notions they’d had about this long-standing poetry. Something like the following from Tai Kakimoto in the Haiku Universe Anthology (p 89):

Spring melancholy-
bones are touching each other
while dancing

allows for various readings and any editor worth his or her salt would comprehend that this is genuine poetry. I chose this one as an example as it is somewhat conventional, yet it possesses in itself daring qualities, that is to say, the call for us to submit to poetry journals outside the haiku community is not a call for us all to throw on our avant-garde shoes and dance to that song to the point we disassociate from this place where we learned how to walk. I’m looking forward to seeing more of us in that coliseum that is the poetry community at large. Expect it to be somewhat of a gory affair for a while but my optimism sees us standing there among them in end.