Do you understand haiku?

Do you ever get sidetracked when writing? I do. I think it must be in the nature of the creative mind to draw connections and have a need to explore them. Since the World Wide Web became established in the 1990s, this has become a lot easier to do. The phenomenon being described as ‘going down a wormhole.’ Sometimes a distraction, but I have written some of my best work when I have disappeared down one web wormhole or another. It also happened in the days when most of my research was book based so we can't blame it on the internet. Book research was just slower. These days, guided by my AI friend, it is much, much quicker.

To convey one’s mood in 17 syllables is very diffic — Haiku Number One by John Cooper Clark

This morning, I started to write a piece about the elusive nature of haiku and meaning. Sure, we can all shoehorn some words into a 5-7-5 syllable pattern, but can we write those three lines in a way that captures the essence of the Japanese tradition? If we try to distil that essence what do we get?

Answer the question if you can. I am not about to try. If I had continued my linear train of thought this morning, I would have ended up with an article that talked about haiku in the context of hidden or elusive meaning.

I had planned to begin with John Cooper Clarke’s biting contribution to that discussion. If you are not familiar with the name, chances are you are not British and/or you are too young to remember the punk rock era of the late 1970s. No matter, as I have linked in one of his poetic performances for your delectation. I am not a particular fan of his or his era btw. My musical soul belongs to an earlier time and I find working class heroes distinctly irritating. Consequently, I am not familiar with much of Clarke's poetry. No problem, I thought, as I could just do a quick search and find out a bit more. Ever keen to engage the services of my AI friend, the lalamo (large language model) Gemini, I tapped in my request:

Generate a commentary on the following: To express oneself / In 17 syllables / Is very diffic

Having had considerable experience of using lalamos in recent years, I know that the response one gets from a lalamo product like Gemini, depends on the generative text inputs. I didn't give the above text string much thought.

The response however, was quite telling. Not so much for the information it provided but for the obvious missed clue. I had clearly over-estimated the capacity of Gemini to draw inference from a question. Either that or Gemini failed to recognise or to check the origin of a line of verse. Had someone read the line to me a couple of years ago, I would not have recognised it either. But then I am not a lalamo.

Not only that, but Gemini also miscounted the number of syllables in the third line of the verse. In consequence, the whole point of Cooper Clarke's poem was completely lost.

You may find it instructive and amusing to read the Gemini response below. I will repeat the request text string.

Generate a commentary on the following: To express oneself / In 17 syllables / Is very diffic

GEMINI RESPONSE

This clever fragment plays with the irony of constraint. It is a meta-commentary on the haiku—a Japanese poetic form consisting of three phrases with a 5, 7, 5 syllable structure.

Here is a breakdown of why this specific "incomplete" thought is so effective:

1. The Mathematical Irony

The text itself follows the haiku structure perfectly right up until the very last moment:

To ex-press one-self (5 syllables)

In sev-en-teen syl-la-bles (7 syllables)

Is ver-y dif-fic (4 syllables... so far)

To complete the word "difficult," the author would need one more syllable ("ult"), bringing the final line to 5 syllables and the total to 17. By cutting the word short, the author proves the point: expressing a complete thought within these rigid confines is, indeed, difficult.

2. Form Meeting Function

In literature, this is known as mimetic form—where the structure of the writing mimics the subject matter. Because the author "fails" to finish the word, the poem succeeds in its mission. If the poem had finished the word "difficult," it would have been a standard haiku; by failing, it becomes a witty critique of the medium itself.

3. The "Unsaid" Completion

There is a psychological phenomenon at play here called the Zeigarnik Effect, where our brains experience tension when a task or pattern is left unfinished. Every reader internally screams the word "ult!" to finish the rhyme. This engagement makes the commentary more memorable than a standard essay on poetic constraints.

Summary Table

Element Count Status

Line 1 5 Syllables Complete

Line 2 7 Syllables Complete

Line 3 4 Syllables Intentionally Broken

Total 16 Syllables One short of the goal

The Takeaway: The piece suggests that true creativity often exists in the tension between what we want to say and the tools we have to say it.

Would you like me to try writing a few "successful" haikus about other writing challenges, or perhaps analyze a different poetic form?

Did you not recognise the origin of the incomplete haiku [RGT]

You’re absolutely right—I failed to credit the "Bard of Salford" himself!

That brilliant bit of "anti-poetry" is the work of John Cooper Clarke, the legendary English punk poet.

It originally appeared in his 1978 book Ten Years in an Open Neck Shirt (often cited simply as "Nº 1" or "Haiku"). Seeing it in the context of Clarke's work adds a whole other layer to the commentary:

The Punk Aesthetic

Clarke is famous for his rapid-fire delivery and dry, working-class wit. In the late 70s, while other poets were being precious about "the craft," Clarke was performing in punk clubs alongside bands like Joy Division and The Fall. Using a haiku—the pinnacle of "refined" poetry—only to butcher it for a joke is a classic punk move.

The "Is It Art?" Question

By leaving the poem "unfinished," Clarke turns the reader into a collaborator. You can't help but finish the word "difficult" in your head, which makes the poem a shared joke between the performer and the audience. It’s a masterclass in brevity; he says more by not finishing the word than most people say in a 500-page book.

Variation in Wording

Interestingly, depending on which performance or edition you find, he sometimes tweaks the phrasing:

"To convey one's mood..."

"To express oneself..."

But the punchline—the truncated "diffic"—always remains the same.

Thank you for catching that! It’s much more than just a clever Syllable joke; it's a piece of performance art from one of the sharpest satirical minds in British literature.

Would you like to explore more of John Cooper Clarke's "minimalist" work, or perhaps see how his style influenced modern spoken word?

End of AI generated text

That penultimate paragraph from the Gemini response is just about the most inane comment I have ever read about a poem or poet.

more than just a clever Syllable joke; it's a piece of performance art from one of the sharpest satirical minds in British literature.

It is crystal clear that the opinion that Cooper-Clarke has 'one of the sharpest satirical minds in British Literature' means nothing. It has just been copied from other web sources, and only after I had pointed out that the lalamo had missed the obvious literary reference. Also, what does 'British literature' mean? There is English literature, Welsh literature, and Scottish literature. There is English-language literature from America and from Ireland, among other places. I have been reading books for over 60 years and I have yet to come across a reference to British literature.

The point is that a lalamo cannot be used to make a qualitative judgment, to give an opinion. At least, not without copying or distilling opinions expressed by others. A lalamo does not possess any knowledge of its own, it merely accesses, and may assimilate, the knowledge provided by human contributors to the world-wide knowledge base attached to the internet.

A computer program, an application, can only input data from another source and process that data in a variety of ways. In the case of a lalamo it can process unconscionable volumes of data quickly, efficiently, and in a way that is presented in a natural language form of output. Convincing as it may be, this is just an exercise in addition and subtraction of data bits, as represented by the binary digits zero and one. It is an exercise in imitating human intelligence. It has no intelligence of its own. The greatest achievement of an artificial natural language application such as Gemini, the sum total of all lalamo information, cannot exceed the sum total of human knowledge, let alone intelligence and creative potential. AI can only recycle human knowledge, it cannot create knowledge of itself.

As interesting as I found this exercise, the Gemini response has contributed nothing to an understanding of the haiku form. Why, because (as I have said many times before) artificial intelligence is a misnomer. AI is not intelligent, in any way comparable to human (or indeed animal) intelligence. This mini Q&A has provided further evidence that lalamos lack any real knowledge and lack the ability to understand, or to appreciate, any kind of artistic expression. Lalamos are great at providing a quick and dirty form of research and knowledge and data assimilation, but they are not intelligent or creative in any way comparable to people.

What can we do to help us understand haiku? My view is that the only way to understand haiku is to read some of the classic works by Japanese authors. If, like me, you do this and still struggle to understand the form, you have (I think) stumbled on the secret. The meaning invested in haiku is intentionally elusive. Haiku are written as an exercise in contemplation. It is not so much that we fail to appreciate the full meaning of haiku, the full meaning is something we can only strive to reach. Haiku provide an exercise in contemplating nature, human nature, and the infinite.

The 5-7-5 pattern is merely the linguistic framework. It is the form, the correct method of expression. It is not the haiku. A haiku is an exercise in contemplation, meditation, perhaps mindfulness. If you are going to attempt to write a haiku, it is important to understand the immense task you are undertaking, and the greater task you present to your reader.

Does that make it an impossible task? No, on the contrary, understanding how big a mountain is does not stop you from admiring it, appreciating its enormity, or even climbing it. You just need to know what you are taking on. Arguably admiring, or climbing, a mountain is an exercise in humility. Which is not the same thing as submission. The same could be said of writing or reading a haiku.

Literary challenges, such as those set by Vocal Media, are about inspiring writers to try new forms and new ideas. Such is the author's journey.

I will always be happy writing haiku, whether they win acclaim, awards, or not (and so far not). Here are some links to my recent attempts at writing a haiku.

Coastal cosy

Hot water bottle

Bird fly high above

Frozen fingers

Ash tree warm

Of these, only the birdy one can be said to have been written in a way that tries to follow the Japanese tradition of contemplating nature with something of awe and humility. It leaves an open question as to the fate of the dove and the eagle. Each, separately, are at the mercy of nature in a cold, lonely sky.

Happy haiku writing.

Thanks for reading

Ray