The Seventeen Syllable Cure
By: Jeannine Everett
Jeannine Everett
Image Courtesy of Jeannine Everett
Words, precise and sharp
Cut through confusion and pain
While healing the wound
Haiku is a form of Japanese poetry. Traditionally, haiku consists of three lines and seventeen syllables. Its essence is the contrast of two ideas, often referencing nature as a metaphor. It’s lyrical, evocative, and mysterious, hinting rather than revealing.
Mine is nothing like that.
I began writing poetry during a difficult period of my life. Everything seemed dark and hopeless—the kind of drama ripe for poetic expression. I didn’t say my poems were any good, mind you. In fact, they were really, truly awful. Cringe-worthy. I trawled through every hurtful episode of my life, pulled up handfuls of muck and flung it onto the page via epic free-form verse.
I’m a wordy gal. I talk a lot. I write a lot. My poems were very long. Think Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald long. I remember sharing my poetry in a chat room (yes, I’m dating myself), repeatedly getting polite chat applause and saying “Wait! I’m not done!” Automated anti-spamming software shut me out more than once.
After a while, I tired of whining, but the pain hadn’t gone anywhere. While my poetry was bad, it was cathartic, my own “I am here, damnit.” I needed a way to express my feelings without so much self-indulgence. I turned to haiku.
Rather than being limiting, working with seventeen syllables freed me. I had a universe of words to choose from. Instead of finding the words to describe my angst, I had to find the word. I would write everything in my journal, and then cull it down. Just like naming a monster lessens its power, naming my pain lessened its impact.
As I pulled myself out of emotional quicksand, my haiku shifted. It wasn’t soggy anymore. It was funny. I rediscovered my sense of humor. Then, came Facebook.
Facebook was like crack for stay-at-home Moms. Everyone was talking about who they friended, and all of the people they’d reconnected with. Luddite that I am, I was a latecomer, and I vowed that I wouldn’t talk about my lunch plans, or pass along chain letter posts. I’m creative and unique, I thought. I will only post in haiku form.
Momaiku was born. I developed a following. Snarky poems about motherhood, baseball, housework, and life. People liked it. Who would have guessed?
I’m still a wordy gal, yet to find a run-on sentence I didn’t love. Haiku, however, keeps my mind sharp, and gives me a way to cope with having a teenage son who loves to push my buttons. Nothing stops him in his tracks faster than “Wait! I have to write that down.”
A world of meaning
In seventeen syllables
Concise, Limitless
About Jeannine Everett:
Jeannine Everett is a writer, mother, musician and Red Sox fan. She blogs about passion, purpose and parenthood at Mobyjoecafe.com, and shares her humorous take on life with a teenager at momaiku.com.
