Lidonna Beer

Haiku Poet Peggy Lyles For my contemporary study of an English language haiku poet, I have chosen Peggy Willis Lyles. Her style of haiku and imagery captured my imagination and I feel that she deserves recognition for the way she uses the genre. Lyles is the recipient of many awards for her haiku, and several current anthologies have included her works. She has also just published her third miniature chapbook, Thirty-Six Tones. Lyles write haiku with a mixture of tradition and innovation. Several—perhaps even most—of her haiku include season words, which was an original Japanese custom. Season words are more than "winter" "summer" "spring" and "fall"; they are words which have significance within a specific season. Just as we would not find icicles in summer, we would not find icicles in a summer haiku. Although not all English language haiku authors adhere to the list of season words, many welcome the challenge of including a season word, and have brought novel interpretations to items in their seasonal use. The haiku I have examined are traditional in their three-line form. One-line haiku are acceptable as well, and some authors dabble in creative forms. Lyles uses three lines to hold her haiku, and the effect is successful. She writes in short lines, further tightening the image because of the allowed space. However, there are innovations in Lyles’ haiku that are stylistic markers of her accomplishment. Haiku often center on a sense: sight, touch, hearing, tasting, or smelling. A good haiku will give the reader a clear perception of something involving their senses. The readers are meant to interpret each haiku as an extension of his or her experiences, reflecting and being able to put themselves into the moment. Lyles manipulates different senses, but her sound-oriented haiku are novel to the field of haiku. She does not blatantly refer to a noise: rather, through referencing an object with an inexorable sound, we "hear" the haiku. For example, she mentions wind chimes and beaches. In my poem-by-poem analysis, I explain why how these sounds are established through her language use. Another innovation I would like to point out is Lyles’ use of season in haiku. She is apt to write haiku with nature and season words, but the combination is often startling. Lyles uses traditional season words in non-traditional seasons, placing leaves, a beach shell and cornhusk dolls in winter. This is not the original Japanese intention, but it creates something new from the season guidelines. Unfortunately, I have not been able to include all the haiku that demonstrate this creativity. That is why I would suggest that after you have read the following analysis of a few of Peggy Willis Lyles’ haiku, you should follow up by reading more of her works. I have included the sources of these haiku on the works cited page. The continuing freshness in her images will be a rewarding experience to those who appreciate haiku. Analysis of selected haiku by Peggy Willis Lyles New Year’s Eve old couple hugging the fire This is an especially good haiku of Lyles’ because of the twist in the third line. Almost acting like a renku link, the picture of an old couple hugging each other is changed to their hugging of the fire. Another poet would pick up with an interpretation of the couple or the fire, moving fluidly from this point. They may be holding each other either way, but a fire puts them into a place. Are they outside, or in front of a fireplace? Are they cold or enjoying the warmth? The haiku also positions this shared moment in combination with traditional season imagery: "New Year’s Eve." winter beach an empty shell holds the sound Together with the beach, the shell and sound back up my suggestions that Lyles uses season creatively. Except for "winter" this would be an acceptable haiku, but much less surprising. Adding the off-season, the season for coal and snow, is effective in the continued sense of emptiness. Beaches definitely have peak seasons, and an empty shell on an empty winter beach is wonderful for the reader to consider. The stillness and lack of activity is aided by "holds" in the last line. It is also a haiku that establishes a sound – or lack of sound. The reader may hear the ocean on the beach. Another reader may hear the shell. Both of these are conveyed by the objects we see in the haiku. again that fragrance I can’t identify… goose pimples For Lyles, this is a much more abstract poem. Most of her haiku I read have season and place to them, but this exception floats in vagueness. It also includes the personal pronoun, "I" which she uses upon occasion. However, it is a significant haiku because it does include an element of smell. What is the fragrance? The reader is very open to interpretation, which makes the haiku more universal. Is it pleasant? It seems it is not unpleasant, because Lyles chose the word "fragrance" instead of "odor" or "smell." Personally, my first reaction was that she smelled a waft perfume that someone wore when she was growing up. Or, it could be a particular combination of scents that we often find in other people’s houses. For example, mothballs and vanilla candles. Or spices and paint, cough syrup and musty books, or any number of strange combinations. The "I" in the haiku is puzzled to the point of goose pimples—an interesting reaction. It does not mean the smell frightens her; it is more like goose pimples of déjà vu. family graveyard a boy finds his middle name on the oldest stone I found this haiku grabbed me because of the unique choice of moment. There are so many haiku that could be written about the experience of being in a graveyard, especially involving members of the older generation. Seeing a grandparent or even an aging parent in a graveyard stirs strong emotions in many people. Instead, Lyles asks us to conjure up the youngest person in our minds, with his curiosity, energy and naivety and puts him in a moment when we realize how special it is to be "connected." The characteristics of youth I listed seem to radiate from the haiku, and the contrast is outstanding. However, the haiku moment is the discovery—middle name on oldest stone. There could also be a more light-hearted take on the moment as well: some people make everything a contest, and perhaps this boy is happy that he has a claim to the oldest stone. I shake the vase— a bouquet of red roses finds its shape Although I remark that Lyles is interesting for her use of smell in haiku, this poem is a wonderful image based on sight, and a little on feel. The two linked ideas, the vase and the roses, are seen concurrently. The reader interprets what kind of vase it would be: how large, how ornate, how tall, to hold roses. The vase illuminates the roses: they must be cut, in a predictable number (six, twelve, etc.), and also lets us wonder what the occasion is. "Shake" is a strong verb for a haiku; however, the motion of the hands transferring to the motionless vase and bouquet creates the movement that is needed to make a haiku worth reflecting. The connotations for shake also shape the image. The person in the poem is being more efficient than "arranging" or "placing." Letting the roses settle against each other trusts that natural beauty, rather than painstaking care, will produce the best effect. I also interpret this to be a fresh bouquet, not one in which the petals will fall with a good shake. summer stillness the play of light and shadow on the windchimes The image in this poem is sound more than sight. Although Lyles places the "light and shadow" on an object, the characteristic of that object—the wind chimes—end up being the impression we gain from the haiku. It is a wonderful example of juxtaposition: the reader begins by acknowledging summer, and all the feeling and connotations with it, but the last lines give us a small focal point. Even though we are not told the wind chimes are moving, it is hard to disassociate the sight of a wind chime from the sound of a wind chime. Works cited Lyles, Peggy Willis. Thirty-Six Tones. Saki Press, 1999. Van den Heuvel, Cor, ed. The Haiku Anthology. W.W. Norton & Company, 1999. —Lidonna Beer