Whittled Words – Haibun Poem
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Welcome to the weekly series, Whittled Words. A series highlighting the innumerable types and styles of poetry to challenge any creative wordsmith. This week’s selection:
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HAIBUN POEM
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The haibun is the combination of two poems: a prose poem and haiku. The form was popularized by the 17th century Japanese poet Matsuo Basho. Both the prose poem and haiku typically communicate with each other, though poets employ different strategies for this communication—some doing so subtly, while others are more direct.
The prose poem usually describes a scene or moment in an objective manner. In other words, the pronoun “I” is not often used—if at all. Meanwhile, the haiku follows the typical rules for haiku.
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Examples of Haibun Poems:
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PATH TO HEAVEN
by Timothy McGuire
Finally realizing in the autumn of this life the lessons learned are for the benefit of those who will come after me. Events, like stepping stones laid down with love, tears and blood to create a path of enlightenment in hopes that one will choose to follow.
life lessons learned
bricks laid along heavens path
for those who follow
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A MILLION YEARS ON
By Indiana Shaw
Can you imagine in another million years, core drillers examining the earth crust, and teaching that this was the 21st century, as we can see from the remains of plastic debris found within these layers of the earth’s crust . . .
Self-worth was lacking
No silver or gold was found
Nowt’ but cheap plastic
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POLLINATION POWER
By Indiana Shaw
The bumblebee does not know that her wings cannot hold her up. She flits from flower to power, pollenating like crazy, with no worries. Not expecting to fall or fail. Her tenacity and self-confidence amaze me as I watch her dig into the flower with a fierceness that only a bumblebee can master. I am in awe of her ability, her self-assured confidence and her work.
flower delicate
pure pollination power
flight of bumblebee
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NIGHT SHIFT
By Brad Osborne
The village sleeps. The tasks of day have been put aside. The body seeks to rest its weary self and ease the strain of the existential life. With the night, comes the quiet stillness of pause whispered in the cooling breeze as lullaby. The crops and fields glisten with settling dew.
just one little worm
squirms through dampening soil
his work is not done
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I hope you have enjoyed this entry to the series, Whittled Words. I look forward to your comments, and if you dare, maybe share your own Haibun poem. Thanks for reading!
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commonsensiblyspeaking 
I really like this style and so interesting to see the different forms used to express the same thing.
Thanks, Beth! I too enjoy the disparity of the combined forms that inevitably lead the reader to the same space.
Your example was brilliant, as always Brad, truly beautiful!
Thank you, my friend!
You’re very welcome my friend!
I’ve never heard of the Haibun! The Japanese have such a rich literature style don’t they? I thought of one after trying to decipher what/who decided to make a temporary home UNDER my home~and then HE found his place in my little bluff~
“My new flitting friend.
Peeking up and down at me.
He’s found a new home.”
I named him Chuck~my woodchuck. And just like Groundhog Day, he appears the same way every day! 💛🤗❤️
Wonderful poem, my friend! You are so sweet even the animals want to be around you. And of course, you named him “Chuck”! Much love and have a great weekend. Tell Finn I said “Hi”.
Aw, thank you, my friend. The kids at school always loved my quirky humor. When I’d pop into classes they’d ask me what imaginary animal was my sidekick that day (sometimes my pet monkey would be on my shoulder 😉😘). Finn and I send you much love back. The Covid is like the cha cha. Yesterday I took a step back. I’m trying to give myself grace and patience. The sunshine for the next 5 days should help. You have the best weekend! Mucho love and hugs! 💛❤️😘🤗
I love how your haibun is more like synchronicity than directly related to the prose. I took a different turn, however, based on some doom-scrolling I did last night.
Haibun Poem: Too Late
It was 143°F in central India this week, and the temps are on the rise. “Climate Change” doesn’t begin to describe what humanity will face in the coming years; severe drought, crop failure, ecological collapse, inescapable heat, mass-migration and death on a scale the world has never known.
Think unthinkable
Beyond our comprehension
No one will save us
A beautiful, if not foreboding, poem perfect to the form, Sudra. Thank you for sharing it here for my readers to enjoy!
I really like this style, and your poem is brilliant, as always!
You are very kind, my dear friend! Sending my love!