Happy Independence Day!
Here in the U.S.A. we’re not supposed to be celebrating until July, but someone on my block broke out the fireworks last weekend and got me thinking about parties. So this month, June, we’re going to celebrate Independence Day early right on time. That’s right: Independence Day is June 12. In the Philippines.
How and why June 12? Well, that’s an artifact of a couple layers of colonialism. What, you didn’t think you were getting out of this without a history lesson, did you? See, June 12 is the day that, er, one colonial government replaced another. Sort of. I’m about to oversimplify things a whole heck of a lot here, and I invite folks to add more nuance in the comments (or to our nonfiction grid) this month if they like.
In 1898 the Spanish-American War was in full swing and the US (like we do) thought it would be a great idea to help Filipino “rebels” overthrow the occupational Spanish government of the territory, which had ousted Emilio Aguinaldo and his revolutionary government in 1897. So we shipped Aguinaldo back to the Philippines in May and said “go for it, good luck, kids.” On June 12, the rebels made a declaration of independence and established a government.
So far so good, right?
Only problem is, colonizers gonna colonize. Instead of supporting the new government and finishing the ouster of Spain, US troops took advantage of the weakened Spanish position to cut a deal with Spain, staged a mock battle in Manila, and took over. By February, the Philippines were known as a U.S. territory. Filipino independence wouldn’t be recognized for another nearly half a century, until 1946. (Read more about what happened in the meantime here.) (And be aware that U.S. military occupation of and presence in the nation didn’t end with “independence.”)
And that’s not the end of the story, either, because the U.S. set up “independence day” for the Philippines in 1946 as July 4 to coincide with its own day of celebration, and so it remained until 1964, when a presidential declaration moved the date back to June 12.
Like the long and circuitous route to June 12 as Independence Day, we have now taken a long and circuitous route to this month’s poetry slam form. Don’t worry. The form is shorter than this explanation.
Hay naku!
It’s a phrase in Tagalog that roughly translates to “OMG” or, depending on your tone of voice, “omgwtfbbq” if the kids say that one anymore. It can be positive or negative, and it’s the source of the pun for this month’s poetry slam form, the hay(na)ku.
Hay(na)ku is a pun taken from haiku and hay naku. In 2003 when Eileen Tabios was introducing the form, she called it “the Pinoy haiku” as a way of signaling how brief the poems were and the way they might be constructed, as well as their source. As the form gained popularity it really needed its own name, and fellow poet Vince Gotera suggested the substitution. Tabios agreed and, well, the rest is history, if a shorter history than the one I just related.
How to write a hay(na)ku
A hay(na)ku is made up of one or more verses which follow a strict 1-2-3 or 3-2-1 rule of construction.
That’s, um. That’s actually it. That’s all the rules. So let’s break it down so that I can convince the boss I wrote some instructions this month.
Each verse
Each verse of a hay(na)ku has six words in it. The first line has one word, the second line two, and the third line three.
It’s that simple. Here, let’s try it:
Behind
the bush
a wren’s nest
Look almost too simple? That’s all there is to writing a verse of hay(na)ku. But unlike last month’s lune, you don’t have to stop there! You can string together as many verses as you want. Let’s see how that works?
A poem
By stringing together more than one verse, you can add ideas and imagery to your poem. Although my little wren’s nest poem is a complete poem, I could probably do more with it. For example:
Behind
the bush
a wren’s nest
below
the bush
a worm’s nest
above
the bush
the clouds nest
beside
the bush
an empty nest
I have no idea what to title this. How does “homemakers” sound? Good? Cool. Let’s go with that. And now we have a complete poem in four verses instead of one. Of course, you don’t have to use parallel construction like I just did. Let’s see where else that poem might have gone:
Behind
the bush
a wren’s nest
She
lays feathers
where no egg sits
And there’s a completely different poem, in only two verses. (I could probably use the same title though, what do you think? See how it adds a completely different meaning? Titles matter.)
Some variations
Writing in six words is demanding. But if for some reason it’s not hard enough for you, try one of these variants:
- Reverse hay(na)ku. Instead of building verses in 1-2-3 words, build them in 3-2-1 words.
- Stair-step hay(na)ku. Alternate 1-2-3 and 3-2-1 verses. Use an even number of verses.
- Chained hay(na)ku. Get together with a friend and build a poem by alternating verses.
One last word of advice: Don’t just write a long thing and break it into 6 word chunks. Really think about where your line and verse breaks are falling. Treat them like punctuation. Know how they affect the meaning of or add emphasis to your words and phrases. Poetry is more than just a sentence you hit enter in a few extra times.
Ready to write? Let’s get counting.
About the author:
Rowan submitted exactly one piece of microfiction to YeahWrite before being consumed by the editorial darkside. She spent some time working hard as our Submissions Editor before becoming YeahWrite’s Managing Editor in 2016. She was a BlogHer Voice of the Year in 2017 for her work on intersectional feminism, but she suggests you find and follow WOC instead. In real life she’s been at various times an attorney, aerialist, professional knitter, artist, graphic designer (yes, they’re different things), editor, secretary, tailor, and martial artist. It bothers her vaguely that the preceding list isn’t alphabetized, but the Oxford comma makes up for it. She lives in Portlandia with a menagerie which includes at least one other human. She tells lies at textwall and uncomfortable truths at CrossKnit.
