by Kala Ramesh

As a Hindustani classical vocal music student, I have spent a lot of time pondering how to effectively use ‘space’ in music, which is very different from how it is shown in dance. In music, we scale up and down the octave to show space and time. But it is equally important to accentuate the spaces between the notes. These full, half or quarter pauses or silences between notes give a fillip to the emotional quotient when a melodic piece is performed. In truth, all art forms demand this way of utilizing space.

This space exists naturally between notes, dance movements, brush strokes or words. An artist only attempts to perfect this technique, to give the dramatic and aesthetic touch needed, to make it visible not only to a connoisseur but also to a layperson.

The Japanese have a very beautiful aesthetic tool called the ‘ma’.

Which means: where there is clutter, even valuable things lose their value. Where there is too much, nothing stands out. The essence of Japanese aesthetic is this concept called ‘ma’ (pronounced “maah”) — the pure, and indeed the essential, void between all things. A total lack of clutter, ma is like a holder within which things can exist, stand out and have a meaning. Read more on the concept of ma.

The cut: known as the kire in haiku is the most important technique and aesthetic tool we use when writing a haiku. What does it do? It creates that space between the images. In a minimalistic poem, how can one tell a story – where is the place for narration? The cut is known as the ‘kire’ does this magic! It helps the author to link from one image to the next by creating a ‘cut’, which in turn creates a ‘space.’

The kire forms the backbone and can be called the soul in haiku. A kire sometimes can happen more than once in a haiku, but happening once is a must — bringing into focus the images that run parallel and the space between them. Please observe, in the example given below, both the connection between two images and the distance between them; otherwise the poem doesn’t come together as a haiku.

If we look again at Basho’s famous haiku, we see that he has clearly linked the two images — the crow alights on a bare branch against the background of an autumn nightfall.

on a bare branch
a crow has alighted …
autumn nightfall 

The connection between the two or more images happens only when the images are close but not too close, nor too far apart. For example, supposing we change the third line to:

on a bare branch
a crow has alighted …
the leafless tree

The first image — a crow alighting on a bare branch — is too close to the second image of a leafless tree, hence there is no twist or surprise and the haiku falls flat.

With this third line:

on a bare branch
a crow has alighted …
science project

The two images — a crow alighting on a bare branch and a science project — have no connection, so the haiku does not work. For a haiku to connect we need the images neither too close (as in example 1), nor too far and disconnected (as in ex. 2.)

This haiku is one of my all-time favourites, and it shows the ‘kire’ most beautifully — with just the right amount of gap for a good leap!

The thief left it behind:
the moon
at my window                

Ryokan

Here are some examples of contemporary haiku with a very effective ‘cut’. Good impact. The space between the two images shown in each haiku is not too far or too close. Just the right amount of space to create that bridge in the reader’s mind — something like seeing two or three ‘shots’ of a filming unit, help the director and the cinematographer in carrying the storyline further.

temple tank —
near the stone bull
a real bull 

Ajaya Mahala

A clear cut after L1. Also notice the play on the image: the stone bull (which is worshipped) and a real bull (which is perhaps loitering around in search of food?) The irony, the reality of life, is given here in just nine words.

train whistle
a blackbird hops
along its notes

 Alan Summers

Apart from the ‘kire’ (the cut) also look at the internal rhythm in this haiku. Reading it aloud, do you hear and feel the rhythmic beat of the bird hopping along?

Please note: the kire can occur anywhere in a haiku, and there can be more than one kire in a haiku.

The Japanese language has certain specific words like ya, kana, keri or nari to show this cut in haiku. When writing in English or in any of our regional languages, we need to use punctuation called the ‘cut-marker’ in place of such words.

Why the punctuation is called the ‘cut-marker’ and why is the kireji so widely used in haiku: Punctuation shows the reader where the ‘cut’ occurs … and the cut (as was explained earlier) is important for the juxtaposition, for marking the parts of the haiku resonate with one another to produce a new whole, a new meaning that gives completeness to the poem.

The cut-marker is known as kireji, and people sometimes feel it’s just punctuation – but no, it’s much more than that – if kire can be considered the soul in a haiku, then the kireji, which so closely abets the kire, can be considered the heart that encloses the soul … if I can be a bit dramatic!

Without the punctuation, some readers would create their own pause. But many don’t, especially new swimmers in the haiku stream. So to make things clear for all, including punctuation is a valuable tool.

To explain kireji more technically, we can say it’s actually a sound (and word) in Japanese, as indicated by the ending “-ji” which means letter, mark, or word. A sounded grapheme in Japanese, the “-ji” is indicated by punctuation in English and other languages.

It might surprise you to know that punctuation is kept to a minimum in haiku, and is used as a highly nuanced tool. Haiku needs clarity, so if an idea or an image has to be conveyed to your reader in a few words, then that pause you show by adding punctuation should help the reader to get the meaning instantaneously. Nothing in haiku is cosmetic!

The various kinds of punctuation most often used in haiku are: … (ellipsis); – (en dash); — (emdash); : (colon); and in rare cases :: (double colon). And of course some haiku are written without punctuation!

The ellipsis indicates a quiet pause and also suggests the passage of time.

starlit sky …
I touch a turtle before
it enters the sea 

K. Ramesh

the fallen
and the falling leaves …
ten years of war   

Karma Tenzing Wangchuk

ancient banyan …
an owl shakes the night
off its feathers 

Anitha Varma

An en-dash ‘–’ is just there to show your reader the cut and actually does little beyond that! In some cases it shows a clear pause as in Lary’s ku below.

spring equinox –
the toilet paper roll
off-center 

Laryalee (Lary) Fraser

An em-dash ‘—’ is an emphatic dash and shows an effective pause, and this stronger break helps in creating the juxtaposition which is so important in haiku.

turbulent mist —
all that is to become
lost in becoming 

Hansha Teki

campfire sparks —
someone outside the circle
starts another song 

Billie Wilson

waiting for me
to give it life —
my death poem 

Karma Tenzing Wangchuk

thunderclap —
the sleeping newborn
throws up her arms 

Chitra Rajappa

Please note: the kireji (cut-marker) is only a marker to indicate the cut, which should be intrinsic to the haiku. Without the cut (the kire), if you just add the kireji, it is merely cosmetic – something superficial, adding no value to your haiku. The colon is not as popular as it was a decade back. What does it do? It gives the reader a peep into what comes next.

winter loneliness:
the sofa she vacates
holds her shape 

Kala Ramesh

Exclamation points are rarely used, but there are exceptions to all rules. Here is a beauty from Michael McClintock.

a poppy …
a field of poppies!
the hills blowing with poppies! 

Michael McClintock

Some poets have mastered the art of ‘no punctuation;’ the mind can still read the pause because the kire is strong.

temple path
the dust i kick up
sticks to me 

ed markowski

a barking dog
little bits of night
                                           breaking off 

Jane Reichhold

passport check
my shadow waits
across the border 

George Swede

And in some instances a weak kire allows the reader to create a break in different places, leading to interesting interpretations.

Awakened
by moonlight
an old regret 

Bill Kenney

the river
the river makes
of the moon 

jim kacian

I dip my feet
in a river the river
joins the sea 

Kala Ramesh

between the sky
and the spin of the earth
this falling leaf 

Laryalee (Lary) Fraser

A mid-line caesura: This is done using the same juxtaposition between images, as explained before — not too close or too far. Line 3 gives the reader a surprise!

wading through
leaves … with each step
the thoughts 

Kala Ramesh

Then there is an interesting form of punctuation, rarely used — but after I encountered it I was hooked!

Grant Hackett writes (in Roadrunner Feb 2009): I began writing the one-line poem about a year and a half ago — the day I found the double colon. The double colon is there to create an unweighted pause. A pause in the breath, a pause in thought. A pause that is different than the weighted or directional relationship our standard punctuation indicates. And that is also different than a hard line break. The two sides of the thought-pause may exist in harmony or in ambiguity. At the moment of the pause there may be peace or there may be tension. The thought-pause is a poetic tool, a poetic device, used poetically.

to the terrace
whistling :: breathless
the milky way 

Kala Ramesh

a breathtaking view now a dot :: on the map

Kala Ramesh

We use punctuation very sparingly in haiku . . . why?

My contention is that it detracts from how the reader can interpret the poem. It becomes a recipe demanding that the reader should pause here or there, show surprise when an exclamation is given, and so on. I could be wrong.

Punctuation, like many things in life, is very personal, and as we read more and more haiku we come to understand that it’s a poet’s preference more than a rule. Read your ku out aloud and see where you pause and how you carry it forward – then decide whether you want punctuation or not. I go through phases when I use no punctuation.

Author’s notes: My special thanks to Jenny Angyal for editing and proofreading this essay. The copyright of the haiku rests with the authors. Copyrights of the title and the page rest with Kala Ramesh.

Publishing Credits:
starlit sky The Heron’s Nest VI.5
the fallen: poem card 2010
ancient banyan: The Haiku Foundation Per Diem 2015
spring equinox – Simply Haiku 4:3, 2006
turbulent mist: An Autumn Testament
campfire sparks: The Heron’s Nest XII:2
waiting for me: Parnassus Literary Journal Spring 1999
winter loneliness: Bottle Rockets #15 Autumn 2006
a poppy: Haiku Magazine 5.1
barking dog: From the Dipper. . . Drops, Humidity Productions 1983
passport check: Cicada 1978
awakened: The Heron’s Nest V.15
the river: Ant Ant Ant Ant Ant 5
I dip my feet: Moongarlic # 4. May 2016
between the sky: Mainichi Daily News, November 2006
wading through leaves: Simply Haiku – Autumn 2009, vol 7 no 3
to the terrace: Presence Haiku Journal – Issue # 42 – September 2010
a breathtaking view: Frogpond 32.2 Summer issue, 2009

Editor’s note: This article (originally in two parts) was first published in 2016 in Pune 365, an online newspaper, and appears here with the author’s permission. There are seven parts to ‘The Heart of Haiku’ series and they may all be found here.

Kala Ramesh is a poet, editor, anthologist, and festival director. Founder and director of Triveni Haikai India and haikuKATHA Journal, and a Pushcart Prize nominee, Kala conceptualised Triveni Gurukulam Mentorship Program 2021; was editor-in-chief of the award-winning Naad Anunaad: An Anthology of Contemporary World Haiku (Vishwakarma 2016); and author of Haiku! an award-winning illustrated children’s book (Katha 2010, reprinted in 2017.) Her book Beyond the Horizon Beyond (Vishwakarma) was shortlisted for the Rabindranath Tagore Literary Prize (2019). Kala authored The Forest I Know, (HarperCollins, August 2021) and co-edited the anthology Amber I Pause (Hawakal 2023).

An external faculty member of Symbiosis International University Pune, Kala taught the 60-hour haikai course to undergraduates from 2012 to 2021 – the first in India! To bring haiku into everyday spaces, she has initiated several projects and organised eight haiku conferences in India. She has conducted haiku, tanka and haibun workshops for the public and haiku enthusiasts for the past 17 years – the latest being at the Kala Ghoda Arts Festival, in 2023, where the organisers had to put up the “Haiku Housefull” board outside the venue!