At seventeen syllables, haiku is the shortest poem in world literature. It is now also the most popular form of poetry in the world, written in nearly every language. And yet, as haiku has spread internationally, one of the most important aspects of the tradition has largely been lost—the community of poets.

In Europe and the United States, haiku is often regarded as the domain of literary elites, but this is not the case in Japan, where haiku is deeply rooted in communal activity. Millions of amateur Japanese poets belong to haiku groups (clubs, really), which are sponsored by different “schools” of haiku, each with its own magazine. Most daily and weekly newspapers carry a haiku column featuring poems submitted by their subscribers, sometimes on the front page.

To help bring back this social dimension, we are inviting our readers to participate in the monthly Tricycle Haiku Challenge. Each month, moderator Clark Strand will select three poems to be published online, one of which will appear with a brief commentary. Each quarter, one of these poems also will appear in the print magazine alongside an extended commentary. In this way, we can begin to follow the seasons together—spring, summer, fall, and winter—and share the joy of haiku together as a community. 

Requirements:

Anyone can submit haiku to the monthly challenge using the form below. To be considered for publication, your haiku must: 

1. Be written in three lines of 5, 7, and 5 syllables:
   Getting the syllables of a haiku to sit naturally inside of its seventeen-syllable form is the primary challenge. Each haiku is a word problem in search of a satisfying seventeen-syllable solution. 
2. Contain the “season word” assigned for that month:
   A haiku isn’t only a word problem. To the seventeen syllables the poet must add a turn of thought that results in more than seventeen syllables of meaning—along with a word that refers to one of the four seasons. How the poet uses “season words” like autumn sun or dew will typically determine the effectiveness of the poem.

Part of the reason haiku appeals to so many people is that its rules are simple and easy to follow, yet it can take a lifetime to master them. Ten million people currently write haiku in Japanese. There is no reason why millions can’t write haiku in English, too, provided they agree on the basics. The turn of thought you add to that simple formula of 5-7-5 syllables with a season word is entirely up to you.

Submissions close on the last day of the month at 11:59 pm ET, and the results will be posted the week after. Monthly submissions are anonymized and the winning poems are selected in a blind process.

To learn more about the history and principles of haiku, check out Clark Strand’s online course with Tricycle, “Learn to Write Haiku: Mastering the Ancient Art of Serious Play.”

This Month’s Season Word:

Submit as many haiku as you please using the submission form below. Just be sure to include this month’s season word. 

Spring season word: “Spring Rain”

the ones and zeroes
inside of a computer
cannot touch spring rain

Submit as many haiku as you please on the season word “spring rain.”

Your poems must be written in three lines of 5, 7, and 5 syllables, respectively, and should focus on a single moment of time happening now.

Be straightforward in your description and try to limit your subject matter. Haiku are nearly always better when they don’t have too many ideas or images. So make your focus the season word* and try to stay close to that.

*REMEMBER: To qualify for the challenge, your haiku must be written in 5-7-5 syllables and include the words “spring rain.”

Haiku Tip: Two Approaches to Season Words

Broadly speaking, there are two approaches to using season words in haiku. The first is to start with the word and then think of something to say about it. The second is to start with what we want to say, then find the right season word to express it. The first approach favors self-discovery, the second self-expression. To become a good haiku poet, we must be able to do both.

In our Tricycle Haiku Challenges, we take the first approach. The season word is a given, so our task each month is to find a way to relate to it that is authentic or original. This typically involves a lot of experimenting. When we arrive at a turn of thought that adds just the right twist, we are the first to experience that little jolt of surprise that makes for a good haiku.

We learn a lot about season words this way. That is why so many Japanese poets write haiku on preassigned seasonal topics. It’s a bit like learning a new language. Eventually we develop a big enough vocabulary to express ourselves fluently in the haiku form. That is where the second approach comes in.

I wrote the first two lines of this month’s sample poem a few days before I arrived at the third. As a haiku poet, I feel strongly that virtual reality will never replace reality—much less the beauty and spontaneous vitality of the natural world. One way to express that idea was by contrasting “the ones and zeroes inside of a computer” (i.e., its binary coding) with some image from nature.

I thought of various birds or flowers I could use as a season word, but none of them felt quite right. True, they were alive and the coding was not. But somehow that wasn’t enough. Then I thought of “spring rain” and instantly knew I had the right word.

Leave a digital device out in the rain and it will quickly cease to function. Soon it will be nothing but silica, metal, and plastic. That image wasn’t directly included in the poem, but I was fairly certain that most readers would find the image of spring rain incompatible with the inner workings of a computer. Which was precisely the point I was trying to convey. Virtual reality can’t touch reality. It can’t even survive a good rain.

A note on spring rain: Spring rain softens the earth at the end of winter, quickening the lives of trees and other flowering plants. A warm, slow rain that can continue for hours, its tedium is counterbalanced by its effect on the land. The grass becomes greener afterwards and the world gets back its colors: pink and purple, orange, red and blue. In agricultural communities especially, the rains of spring are a blessing, hastening the season of growth and renewal.

February’s Winning Poem: 

Winter season word: “Blanket”

blanket for a coat
to travel, to go, to move
to lie down when tired

— David Bolton

You can find the honorable mentions, additional commentary, and February’s haiku tips here. 

Previous Winners

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Submission Form