Modern haiku schools not only question the traditional form, but also some rules of text design and try to break new ground.
Summer grass is all that remained of the warrior's dream
Haiku, Senryu and Tanka have no headings or signatures. The discussions about this regulation and the deviations from it are as old as the poem.
the wind today has this spice from the sea from the dunes of 'he thinks of me'
The first verse in these systems always has the name "hokku“, The second waki or wakiku, the final verse ageku (completing verse). In order to distinguish the verse-rich renga from the initial two-stanza renga, the latter is called tanrenga. The 5-7-5 syllable verses are called “long verses” (chôku), and the 7-7 syllable verses are called “short verses” (tanku).
Kastanienbaum - The bicycle basket underneath
fills with flowers ...on the way home very carefully around every stone
Afterwards at the stopThere are five of us in London. A couple of friends, my children and I are drifting through the shopping streets on this unusually sunny, yes, warm October morning. And even though the newspapers are talking about the economic crisis, people hurry packed in plastic bags between all the department stores and cafes in this and that direction. Again and again I bump against their edges, smell expensive perfume up close, say “Excuse me” twice and then leave it. Because nobody speaks on these boulevards. There, we want to take the bus! An old bus, one with an open plateau at the end! One of those you can jump on! I jump ... "Do you still have them all?" My friend commands me. Not only that I almost drove off alone, because nobody could run after this hustle and bustle. Not his wife, nor my daughter. And if I had thought that my son, at eight years old, could have nothing better to do than jump after his father. Thank God the boy was too slow to hold on to him. I should have seen how horrified he looked after me. And they would only have caught up with me because the next stop was less than a hundred meters away and the bus still had to wait.
"Sorry," I say. And after a while: "I don't know what's got into me."I was born here. My father died here. Now I'm disconnecting the umbilical cord ...
- Translator into Japanese or English language
All in all, this is an open and easy-to-learn form of community poetry, in which the focus can be on the joy of poetry and experimentation.
autumn glowIn the high maple next to the stone cross
a shimmer of red.Church clock. In the night silence
clearly falls a first apple.Haze in the hills. The ups and downs of the baskets
between the vines.Two wine festivals to choose from on Saturday evening.
Impending sky.Your father holds the kite,
but a Withrust him away.Thanks to forecast food. On TV football and fire in the fireplace.