We haven’t discussed haiku much lately, and I’m not sure with all that’s going on in the country and the world, if anyone has noticed. You’ll just have to trust me on this.
Haiku, for those who’ve missed all the earlier columns or skipped class that day in your Japanese Lit 301 class, is a short form of Japanese poetry which was originally the “Hokku,” mainly because the guy credited with starting the haiku spoke very softly, and no one was quite sure if he was saying “haiku,” “hokku,” or “Old Hickory.”
In English, a haiku usually consists of three lines with no punctuation and no capitalization (like a text message from anyone under 50). In its traditional form, haiku adheres to the convention of the first line being five syllables, the second seven syllables, and the third line back to five syllables. Today the syllable count is considered less important, but bluegrass lovers are traditionalists, so when composing bluegrass haiku I’ve always advocated staying true to the old form. Take your newfangled changes elsewhere, will you? Mess with baseball rules or the tax code and leave our traditional short-form Japanese poetry alone!
There is long form Japanese poetry, too, I should point out. One of the better known long poems in Japan, of unknown authorship, is called 少女と恐ろしい蛇 (Shōjo to osoroshī hebi), which translates loosely to “The Little Girl and the Dreadful Snake.”
I started writing these short poems myself by trying to condense full bluegrass songs into the traditional haiku form. The first one I ever felt good about was the haiku of Legend of the Rebel Soldier, and I know I’ve mentioned this before:
not feeling so good
is this preacher listening?
Yankee prisons suck
Since then, I’ve tried to move on to haiku about being in the recording studio, attending bluegrass festivals, being on the road, and the always popular and inspiring topic, banjo parts:
nice tone ring you’ve got
now I have truss rod envy
have you tweaked your flange?
As discussed in previous haiku columns, part of the haiku tradition is the inclusion of a reference to nature and a “break” (or severe sprain) in the poem, often between lines two and three. I’d say the Rebel Soldier one contains a reasonable example of the break. For nature references, we stretch the definitions a little for bluegrass song subject matter to include the following:
- Big rocks and little rocks
- Coal
- Moonshine (certainly a natural product)
- Girls named Sadie
- Hogs that eat family members
- Bears that are broad across the rump
One thing that hasn’t been done yet, that I know of, is to write a collection of haiku that are all condensed songs of one particular artist, something that could be perhaps released as a short book, along the lines of a tribute album.
I’d love to give it a try with the vast repertoire of Flatt & Scruggs, with so much to choose from from 1948 to 1970. Here are a few to get started:
Roll in My Sweet Baby’s Arms
so that’s your big plan?
lay around the shack all day?
my parents hate you
Down the Road
I love Pearlie Blue
but couldn’t she live closer
to my dad’s hog lot?
Over the Hills to the Poorhouse
can you believe this?
I’ve just been left here to die
what lame kids I have
I’ll Go Stepping Too
your hair’s all messed up
but you’ll notice so is mine
more messed up in fact
Martha White Theme
my dough is rising
all by itself which is cool
if you like biscuits
Dim Lights Thick Smoke
some hangout you have
this place lacks ventilation
could you please speak up?
I’m Gonna Sleep With One Eye Open
only one eye shut
keeping tabs on you each night
makes for lousy sleep
The Ballad of Jed Clampett
just hunting for deer
and found this weird black liquid
it sure stained my pants
And now a preview of the Stanley Brothers collection:
it’s great to be home
but who are you strange people?
oops sorry wrong town
