Young Writers Society

I mean...I liked it, but there isn't much to say. This did fit the haiku form perfectly (yes, I counted the syllables, lol). So that's good?
However, I disagree that haikus are 'just really random'--they're my favorite form of poetry, and I think they can be very meaningful.

Overall, the piece was good, but doesn't leave much substance to actually review. Maybe it's not your poem that's the problem--I think it's just generally harder to review short works....

Haha, nice one. But the thing is, this can't really count as a haiku, because from what I know, haiku are supposed to be about some SOLID subject, like nature, or something other. And another thing: The plural of haiku is HAIKU. Soo..............

Unless you didn't mean this to be a haiku at all? Then it's okay.

Keep it up!

Mysticalxx

Hi!
There is literally not much to say.Haikus are interesting. I should really like to learn how to write them. I bet that would be fun. The only thing I will point out is the second line. It has 7 beats, while the other two have 5 beats. Other than that, good job.
Good luck and keep writing!
Very truly yours,
fantasydragon01.

Haha this made me laugh. Cause I can't write haikus for anything either.
But it's funny
you did write a haiku even though you said you can't aha.

@Kyllorac
@carbonCore

WEABOOS

Drive-by review to say that this isn't an oxymoronic haiku because it isn't a haiku at all! Haiku are specifically about nature, and there's a lot of subtle structural aspects of them (such as season words or a cut) which need to be present for it to be considered a haiku, which also generally aren't taught in schools when they cover haiku. Which is just tragic, because in addition to categorizing poetry by the form, Japanese poetry is further divided by topic and vocabulary.

Anyways, what you have here is almost a senryuu, which is a poem with a similar basic structure to a haiku, but instead of being about nature, it's about the foibles of human nature, in this case, about your inability to write haiku. It would probably be classified as a zappai, another form of poetry that is superficially similar to haiku, since the main subject of the poem is haiku themselves, and how random they are.

So, long rambling story about Japanese poetic forms short, what you have here is a non-oxymoronic zappai. Congratulations!

On a different note, the plural form of "haiku" is "haiku". There are no plural forms in Japanese (at least, not in the same way words are pluralized in English), and since haiku is a recent loanword, the singular and plural forms are the same in English too.

The second line also reads as very stilted because of the lack of contraction, and it's very obvious that you split "they're" into "they are" to meet the syllable requirement. I'm also not really a fan of the exclamation mark at the end. It feels like forced enthusiasm, especially considering it's followed up by the question in the third line, and the simplicity of the language doesn't really help the effect.

I think this piece would be much improved if you found a way to describe the randomness of haiku (which I'm not even sure what you're talking about there) in the second line. At the very least, it would strengthen the impact of the question in the third line and reinforce why the narrator can't write haiku.

I will try to answer the question to the best of my ability.

Haiku is a form of short poetry originally written by poets inspired by nature. At its core, haiku usually consists of two images that somehow interact or contrast against one another. The short of what I'm about to write, and the direct answer to your question, is this: haiku may appear random because the relationship between the images is purposely left unexplained, leaving the reader to try and figure it out themselves. If the haiku was not clear enough about the implied relationship, or if the reader was otherwise unable to find it, a haiku may indeed appear to be disjointed and random. Now, for the long of it.

For me, the pleasure of reading haiku comes from that mechanic of making the connection myself. For the strongest haiku, the connection comes immediately. Consider the following:

For a lovely bowl,
let us arrange some flowers...
as there is no rice.

Before the white chrysanthemum,
the scissors hesitate
a moment.

Into the ancient pond
A frog jumps:
Splash!