The HyperTexts
Original Haiku and Tanka
by Michael R. Burch
These are original haiku and tanka I have written, along with
haiku-like and tanka-like poems inspired by the poetic forms but not necessarily abiding by all the
rules. There are links at the bottom of this page to my translations of Japanese masters of
haiku and tanka such as
Matsuo Basho, Yosa Buson, Fukada Chiyo-ni, Ono no Komachi, Kobayashi Issa and
Takaha Shugyo.
My Personal Favorites
Dark-bosomed clouds
pregnant with heavy thunder ...
the water breaks
―Michael R. Burch
The poem above was my first serious haiku. It came to me in a flash, fully
formed, under the influence of the Japanese masters, as I published a collection
of my favorite haiku. At that point, I had not translated any haiku, but I went
on to translate, or, more properly, interpret, hundreds of haiku. Was
my haiku the gift of the Muses, in reward for my efforts on their behalf? I
would like to think so.
Am I really this old,
so many ghosts
beckoning?
—Michael R. Burch
Brittle autumn leaf,
how was I to know
you were my life?
—Michael R. Burch
Sleepyheads!
I recite my haiku
to the inattentive lilies.
—Michael R. Burch
Celebrate the New Year?
The cat is not impressed,
the dogs shiver.
—Michael R. Burch
Cats are seldom impressed by human accomplishments, while the canine
members of our family have always hated fireworks and other unexpected loud
noises.
Early robins
get the worms,
cats waiting to pounce.
—Michael R. Burch
Elderly sunflowers:
bees trimming their beards.
―Michael R. Burch
The ability
to disagree agreeably—
civility.
―Michael R. Burch
Fireflies
thinking to illuminate the darkness?
Poets!
―Michael R. Burch
The following haiku were written for the mothers and children of the Tail of
Tears, the Holocaust, the Palestinian Nakba, Putin's invasion of Ukraine, school
shootings, and so many other avoidable catastrophes. I agree with Gandhi, who
said that if we want to live in a better world, we must start with the children.
Mightier than Atlas,
she shoulders the weight
of one fallen star.
―Michael R. Burch,
"Childless"
My footprints
so faint in the snow?
Ah yes, you lifted me.
―Michael R. Burch
An emu feather
still falling?
So quickly you rushed to my rescue.
―Michael R. Burch
The sun warms
a solitary stone.
Let us abandon no one.
―Michael R. Burch
Born into the delicate autumn,
too late to mature,
pale petal ...
―Michael R. Burch
Soft as daffodils fall
all the lamentations
of life’s smallest victims,
departing
unheard ...
―Michael R. Burch
As springs’ budding blossoms emerge
the raptors glide mercilessly.
―Michael R. Burch
The haiku above was written on 3-27-2023 after the Nashville Covenant school
shooting. This is another haiku that came to me in a flash, fully formed.
"Slain" — an impossible word to comprehend.
The male lion murders cubs,
licks his lips, devours them.
―Michael R. Burch,
"Incomprehensible"
I also wrote "Slain" in response to the Nashville Covenant school shooting.
The eagle sees farther
from its greater height—
our ancestors' wisdom
―Michael R. Burch
We should listen to the wisest of our ancestors on the subject of equality and
justice, including Sappho (who wrote the first "make love, not war" poem over
2,500 years ago), Sitting Bull, Frederick Douglass, Gandhi, Martin Luther King
Jr., Nelson Mandela and Jimmy Carter.
Can eagles soar,
hooded?
—Michael R. Burch, "American Eagle"
Valentine Haiku and Tanka, for Beth
My lovely wife Beth, more formally known as Elizabeth Steed Harris Burch,
embodies and exemplifies love and compassion.
Teach me to love:
to fly beyond sterile Mars
to percolating Venus.
―Michael R. Burch
You rise with the sun,
mysteriously warm,
also scattering sunbeams.
―Michael R. Burch
one pillow ...
our dreams
merge
―Michael R. Burch
She bathes in silver,
~~~~ afloat ~~~~
on her reflections...
—Michael R. Burch
Crushed grapes
surrender such sweetness!
A mother’s compassion.
―Michael R. Burch
Love is a surreal sweetness
in a world where trampled grapes
become wine.
―Michael R. Burch
The day’s eyes were blue
until you appeared
and they wept at your beauty.
―Michael R. Burch
The moon blushed
then fled behind a cloud:
her stolen kiss.
―Michael R. Burch
You astound me,
your name
unpronounceable on my lips.
―Michael R. Burch
You astound me;
your name on my lips
remains unpronounceable.
―Michael R. Burch
A leaf brushes my cheek:
a subtle lover’s
gentlest caress.
―Michael R. Burch
The plums were sweet,
icy and delicious.
To eat them all
was perhaps malicious.
But I vastly prefer your kisses!
―Michael R. Burch
How vaguely I knew you
though I held you close ...
your heart’s muffled thunder,
your breath the wind—
rising and falling.
―Michael R. Burch
Iffy Coronavirus Haiku
yet another iffy coronavirus haiku #1
by michael r. burch
plagued by the Plague
i plague the goldfish
with my verse
yet another iffy coronavirus haiku #2
by michael r. burch
sunflowers
hang their heads
embarrassed by their coronas
I wrote this poem after having a sunflower arrangement delivered to my mother,
who is in an assisted living center and can’t have visitors due to the
coronavirus pandemic. I have been informed the poem breaks haiku rules about
personification, etc.
homework: yet another iffy coronavirus haiku #3
by michael r. burch
dim bulb overhead,
my silent companion:
still imitating the noonday sun?
yet another iffy coronavirus haiku #4
by michael r. burch
Spring fling—
children string flowers
into their face masks
yet another iffy coronavirus haiku #5
by michael r. burch
the Thought counts:
our lips and fingers
insulated by plexiglass ...
yet another iffy coronavirus haiku #6
by michael r. burch
masks, masks
everywhere
and not a straw to drink ...
Dark Cloud, Silver Lining
by Michael R. Burch
Every corona has a silver lining:
I’m too far away to hear your whining,
and despite my stormy demeanor,
my hands have never been cleaner!
New World Order (last in a series and perhaps of a species)
by Michael R. Burch
The days of the dandelions dawn ...
soon man will be gone:
fertilizer.
The Original Sin: Rhyming Haiku!
Haiku
should never rhyme:
it’s a crime!
―Michael R. Burch
The herons stand,
sentry-like, at attention ...
rigid observers of some unknown command.
―Michael R. Burch
Late
fall;
all
the golden leaves turn black underfoot:
soot
―Michael R. Burch
Dry leaf flung awry:
bright butterfly,
goodbye!
―Michael R. Burch
A snake in the grass
lies, hissing
"Trespass!"
―Michael R. Burch
Honeysuckle
blesses my knuckle
with affectionate dew
―Michael R. Burch
My nose nuzzles
honeysuckle’s
sweet nothings
―Michael R. Burch
The day’s eyes were blue
until you appeared
and they wept at your beauty.
―Michael R. Burch
The moon in decline
like my lover’s heart
lies far beyond mine
―Michael R. Burch
My mother’s eyes
acknowledging my imperfection:
dejection
―Michael R. Burch
The sun sets
the moon fails to rise
we avoid each other’s eyes
―Michael R. Burch
bright leaf flung awry ~
butterfly, goodbye!
―Michael R. Burch
leaf flutters in flight ~
bright, O and endeavoring butterfly,
goodbye!
―Michael R. Burch
a soaring kite flits
into the heart of the sun?
Butterfly & Chrysanthemum
―Michael R. Burch
The whore with the pallid lips
lipsticks
into something more comfortable
―Michael R. Burch
I am a traveler
going nowhere—
but my how the gawking bystanders stare!
―Michael R. Burch
This is a poem composed of haiku-like stanzas:
Lift up your head
dandelion,
hear spring roar!
How will you tidy your hair
this near
summer?
Leave to each still night
your lightest affliction,
dandruff.
Soon you will free yourself:
one shake
of your white mane.
Now there are worlds
into which you appear
and disappear
seemingly at will
but invariably blown—
wildly, then still.
Gasp at the bright chill
glower
of winter.
Icicles splinter;
sleep still an hour,
till, resurrected in power,
you lift up your head,
dandelion.
Hear spring roar!
―Michael R. Burch
Variations on Fall
Farewells like
falling
leaves,
so many sad goodbyes.
―Michael R. Burch
Falling leaves
brittle hearts
whisper farewells
―Michael R. Burch
Autumn leaves
soft farewells
falling ...
falling ...
falling ...
―Michael R. Burch
Autumn leaves
Fall’s farewells
Whispered goodbyes
―Michael R. Burch
Fading memories
of summer holidays:
the closet’s last floral skirt
―Michael R. Burch
Variations on the Seasons
by Michael R. Burch
Mother earth
prepares her nurseries:
spring greening
The trees become
modest,
coy behind fans
*
Wobbly fawns
have become the fleetest athletes:
summer
*
Dry leaves
scuttling like crabs:
autumn
*
The sky
shivers:
snowfall
Each
translucent flake
lighter than eiderdown
the entire town entombed
but not in gloom,
bedazzled.
Variations on Night
Night—
ice and darkness
conspire against human warmth
―Michael R. Burch
Night and the Stars
conspire against me:
Immensity
―Michael R. Burch
in the ice-cold cathedral
prayer candles ablaze
flicker warmthlessly
―michael r. burch
Variations on the Arts
by Michael R. Burch
Paint peeling:
the novel's
novelty wears off ...
The autumn marigold's
former glory:
allegory.
Human arias?
The nightingale frowns, perplexed.
Tone deaf!
Where do cynics
finally retire?
Satire.
All the world’s
a stage
unless it’s a cage.
To write an epigram,
cram.
If you lack wit, scram.
Haiku
should never rhyme:
it’s a crime!
Video
dumped the boob tube
for YouTube.
Anyone
can rap:
just write rhythmic crap!
Variations on Lingerie
by Michael R. Burch
Were you just a delusion?
The black negligee you left
now merest illusion.
Scandalous tides,
removing bikinis!
―Michael R. Burch
The clothesline
quivers,
ripe with unmentionables.
―Michael R. Burch
The clothesline quivers:
wind,
or ghosts?
―Michael R. Burch
Variations on Love and Wisdom
by Michael R. Burch
Wise old owls
stare myopically at the moon,
hooting as the hart escapes.
Myopic moon-hooting owls
hoot as the hart escapes
The myopic owl,
moon-intent, scowls;
my rabbit heart thunders ...
Peace, wise fowl!
Tanka
All the wild energies
of electric youth
captured in the monochromes
of an ancient photobooth
like zigzagging lightning.
―Michael R. Burch
A child waving ...
The train groans slowly away ...
Loneliness ...
Somewhere in the distance gusts
scatter the stray unharvested hay ...
―Michael R. Burch
The plums were sweet,
icy and delicious.
To eat them all
was perhaps malicious.
But I vastly prefer your kisses!
―Michael R. Burch
How vaguely I knew you
though I held you close ...
your heart’s muffled thunder,
your breath the wind—
rising and falling.
―Michael R. Burch
Ascendance Transcendence
by Michael R. Burch
Breaching the summit
I reach
the horizon’s last rays.
Untitled
sheer green stockings
queer green beer
St. Patrick's Day!
―michael r. burch
cicadas chirping everywhere
singing to beat the band—
surround sound
―michael r. burch
Regal, upright,
clad in royal purple:
Zinnia
―michael r. burch
although meant for market
a pail full of strawberries
invites indulgence
―michael r. burch
late November;
skeptics scoff
but the geese no longer migrate
―michael r. burch
as the butterfly hunts nectar
the generous iris
continues to bloom
―michael r. burch
Her sky-high promises:
midday moon
—Michael R. Burch
The north wind’s refrain,
a southbound train ...
Invitation?
—Michael R. Burch
The north wind’s refrain,
the receding strain
of a southbound train ...
Invitation?
—Michael R. Burch
The evening grass
accumulates dew,
roots in corpses.
—Michael R. Burch
Midwinter
church bells
seem more cacophonous...
—Michael R. Burch
Coyotes yip at wolves,
their offspring endangered:
politics
—Michael R. Burch
The sky tries to assume
your eyes’ azure
but can’t quite pull it off.
—Michael R. Burch
The sky tries to assume
your eyes’ arresting blue
but can’t quite pull it off.
—Michael R. Burch
Two bullheaded frogs
croaking belligerently:
election season.
—Michael R. Burch
An enterprising cricket
serenades the sunrise:
soloist.
—Michael R. Burch
A single cricket
serenades the sunrise:
solo violinist.
—Michael R. Burch
The Ultimate Haiku Against God
by Michael R. Burch
Because you made a world
where nothing matters,
our hearts lie in tatters.
Haiku Rules, Dos and Don'ts
Are there rules for writing haiku? Even the experts, many of them
self-appointed, don't agree. While I don't claim to be an "expert," I will offer
my opinions, which can be taken with a grain of salt, and surely will be, by the
traditionalists and purists.—MRB
The 5-7-5 syllable rule: I don't think this rule has ever made much sense in
English language haiku, since no rhythm is achieved by counting syllables. In
English poetry, rhythm is created via patterns of stressed and unstressed
syllables. When meter is absent, poetic devices such as alliteration, assonance
and consonance may be employed. Or haiku can be pure free verse without poetic
devices. But in any case, I see nothing to be gained via the 5-7-5 form. I
ignore the rule myself.
The three line rule: While most haiku have three lines, I see no reason haiku
can't have fewer or more lines. I sometimes employ fewer or more lines, when the
logic of what is being said seems to work more naturally that way.
The nature and season rules: The great Oriental masters of the form did not
write strictly about nature or the seasons, so I ignore these rules.
The "cut" rule: I have heard variations of a "cut" rule in which two lines have
to be about one thing only, with those two lines "cutting" over to the third
line. While this is fine if poets want to do it, I see no reason to make it a
hard-and-fast rule.
So what are my personal rules for haiku? I don't care much for rules myself, so
I will use the term "guidelines" instead. I am more concerned about what haiku
should do, than I am with creating arbitrary "don'ts" that just get in the way
and clog up the works. For me, the essential attributes of haiku are minimalism,
epiphany, and being a sort of poetic or "zen" snapshot. I would much rather bend
or break the rules and produce an epiphany, than adhere to the rules and have
the poem fall flat. Therefore, my guidelines are simple and flexible:
(1) Minimalism: A haiku is a brief poem constructed usually (but not always) of
three short lines.
(2) Snapshot: A haiku is usually (but not always) a vivid snapshot of one thing
or event, or of closely related things or events.
(3) Epiphany: A good haiku results in some sort of epiphany (a flash of insight,
a feeling of déjà vu, "a sense of sudden enlightenment and illumination," a sob,
a tear, a wince, a chuckle, etc.).
(4) Imagery and metaphor: Most haiku employ imagery and many involve some sort
of metaphor (transference).
(5) Poetic devices: Haiku may employ (but do not require) poetic devices such as
meter, rhyme, alliteration, assonance and consonance).
(6) Punctuation and capitalization: Because haiku are typically brief, and are
thus generally easier to parse, punctuation and capitalization are less critical
that with longer works of poetry and prose. This does not mean that some haiku
will not benefit from punctuation. When a haiku might be read incorrectly
otherwise, I employ punctuation. Punctuation can also help "slow down" the
reading a bit, by indicating pauses to the reader. I think punctuation is
optional in most haiku, but can be immensely beneficial in the proper spots. And
it is never "wrong" to employ standard capitalization and punctuation.
How does one go about writing haiku? I think the first and most important step
is to read the haiku of the Oriental masters, starting with grand masters like
Basho, Buson, Issa and Shiki. There are, I believe, many good examples on this
page. Pay particular attention to the "snapshot" and "epiphany" aspects of
haiku. Then see if you can capture similar magic yourself. Don't get hung up on
the rules. If you can produce an epiphany, who cares exactly how you did it? If
you abide by all the rules and the poem falls flat, what has been accomplished?
The Masters of Haiku, Tanka, Waka and Related Forms
Matsuo Basho
Yosa Buson
Kobayashi Issa
Ono no Komachi
Yamaguchi Seishi
The Oriental Masters of Haiku
Related pages:
The Best Sonnets,
The Best Villanelles,
The Best Ballads,
The Best Sestinas,
The Best Rondels and Roundels,
The Best Kyrielles,
The Best Couplets,
The Best Quatrains,
The Best Haiku,
The Best Limericks,
The Best Nonsense Verse,
The Best Poems for Kids,
The Best Light Verse,
The Best Poem of All Time,
The Best Poems Ever Written,
The Best Poets,
The Best of the Masters,
The Most Popular Poems of All Time,
The Best American Poetry,
The Best Poetry Translations,
The Best Ancient Greek Epigrams and Epitaphs,
The Best Anglo-Saxon Riddles and Kennings,
The Best Old English Poetry,
The Best Lyric Poetry,
The Best Free Verse,
The Best Story Poems,
The Best Narrative Poems,
The Best Epic Poems,
The Best Epigrams,
The Most Beautiful Poems in the English Language,
The Most Beautiful Lines in the English Language,
The Most Beautiful Sonnets in the English Language,
The Best Elegies, Dirges & Laments,
The Best Poems about Death and Loss,
The Best Holocaust Poetry,
The Best Hiroshima Poetry,
The Best Anti-War Poetry,
The Best Religious Poetry,
The Best Spiritual Poetry,
The Best Heretical Poetry,
The Best Thanksgiving Poems,
The Best Autumnal Poems,
The Best Fall/Autumn Poetry,
The Best Dark Poetry,
The Best Halloween Poetry,
The Best Supernatural Poetry,
The Best Dark Christmas Poems,
The Best Vampire Poetry,
The Best Love Poems,
The Best Urdu Love Poetry,
The Best Erotic Poems,
The Best Romantic Poetry,
The Best Love Songs,
The Ten Greatest Poems Ever Written,
The Greatest Movies of All Time,
England's Greatest Artists,
Visions of Beauty,
What is Poetry?,
The Best Abstract Poetry,
The Best Antinatalist Poems and Prose,
Early Poems: The Best Juvenilia,
Human Perfection: Is It Possible?,
The Best Book Titles of All Time,
The Best
Writing in the English Language,
Michael R. Burch Romantic
Poems,
Michael R. Burch Free Verse
Individual poems and collections by Michael R. Burch: "Jessamyn's Song"
The HyperTexts