HAIKU DIALOGUE – Literary Devices – synecdoche and metonymy
Literary Devices with Guest Editor Alex Fyffe
For this series, I’d like to focus on the use of various literary devices in haiku. We tend to think of these techniques as applicable to longer lyric poetry – haiku is often taught to be a form without literary trappings, a simple breath of a poem, honest and straightforward, without ornament. Of course, this is a misconception, as the best haiku tend to be very carefully crafted, with one good poem often going through several revisions. And just like their longer cousins, haiku are capable of tackling metaphor, simile (despite what you might have heard), personification, symbolism, allusion, and any number of other techniques. Each week, we will take an in-depth look at a different technique and apply it to our haiku.
next week’s theme: onomatopoeia
Bam! And we’re off… to onomatopoeia. Probably the literary device that is the most fun to say and least fun to spell, onomatopoeia, or a sound effect word, is a staple of prose, poetry, and comic books alike.
I tend to think of onomatopoeia in two ways, the first being non-words that are meant to closely replicate sounds, like Spider-Man’s “thwip” and Wolverine’s “snikt.” These are arrangements of letters that try to closely mimic what an action sounds like but that are rarely used as verbs (it would be odd to write, “Spider-Man thwipped his way across town”). Some examples include zzz, fzzt, shh, ugh, ahh, eek, ew, bah, etc.
The second and more common type consists of real words used as verbs or nouns. Dickinson’s popular opening line, “I heard a Fly buzz – when I died –,” is an example. These are words like groan, bark, caw, creak, chatter, howl, pop, patter, thump, squish, and a thousand others.
Onomatopeia lends itself particularly well to haiku, which must quickly catch the reader’s senses. In the one hundred translations of Basho’s most famous poem, for instance, we sometimes see the last line, mizu no oto (lit. sound of water, or water’s sound), creatively changed into a sound effect: “plop” or “splash!” Sometimes when writing, we focus too much on the sense of sight, but sound can be just as powerful. The right sound can make us laugh or jump, amuse us or unsettle us. For this prompt, focus on sound by using an onomatopoeic word in your haiku.
The deadline is midnight Central Daylight Time, Saturday July 23, 2022.
Please use the Haiku Dialogue submission form below to enter one or two original unpublished haiku inspired by the week’s theme, and then press Submit to send your entry. (The Submit button will not be available until the Name, Email, and Place of Residence fields are filled in.) With your poem, please include any special formatting requirements & your name & residence as you would like it to appear in the column. A few haiku will be selected for commentary each week. Please note that by submitting, you agree that your work may appear in the column – neither acknowledgment nor acceptance emails will be sent. All communication about the poems that are posted in the column will be added as blog comments.
below is Alex’s commentary for synecdoche and metonymy:
Going through the submissions for synecdoche/metonymy, I realized just how tricky these devices can be. Trying to distinguish between them and metaphor, for instance, or personification, or even onomatopoeia in some cases, wasn’t always easy. One poet asked me what the difference is between synecdoche/metonymy and idioms, and this must have been a common issue, as there were several idioms in the submissions (and some in the selections below). To answer the question, I believe an idiom – a common, nonliteral expression – can contain synecdoche or metonymy but that synecdoche and metonymy do not have to be used in idioms.
after dad left
my little mom brought home
the baconKath Abela Wilson
Pasadena, California
In this poem, Wilson uses the idiom “brought home the bacon,” which, of course, means “supported the household.” Within this idiom, “bacon” is an example of metonymy, as it represents financial support.
sunrise
a whinny makes its way
through the pastureBryan Rickert
Belleville, Illinois
Rickert’s poem effectively uses “whinny” to stand in for a horse. I believe this fits the definition of synecdoche, but it is also an example of onomatopoeia, another topic coming up in this series on literary devices.
I say I’m leaving
her dress
lets out a sighPenny Lowery
Devon, UK
In Lowery’s poem, the dress may be an example of metonymy, as the clothes are intended to represent the woman, but it is also clearly a use of personification.
So there does certainly appear to be overlap with synecdoche/metonymy and other devices/techniques, making the selections a bit eclectic this week. In general, I accepted poems I thought were strong, whether or not they strictly met the theme, as long as they made an honest effort and said something interesting.
Some poets took intentional creative liberties with the topic, as well:
fertile womb—
the violence
of synecdochePippa Phillips
Kansas City, Missouri
boots
on
the
ground
men
reduced
to
bodiesAsh Lippert
South Carolina, USA
Phillips refers to the device itself in order to make a powerful comment about a major modern issue. Lippert uses the device to show how some people are reduced to their parts every day (illustrated also by the way each word is separated from the others), seen as tools, their humanity ignored.
Some other favorites from this topic:
ultrasound…
she names
the bumpNancy Brady
Ohio, USA
each beak
sings his song –
spring dawnTomislav Maretić
Croatia
seafront gulls
all eyes on the fish
and chipsLori Kiefer
London, UK
Kiefer’s clever use of “all eyes” refers, of course, to the gulls eyeing the food, but I think it also lets us imagine the diners keeping a close eye on their meals.
bottle return…
a homeless man pockets
tomorrow’s drinkMarcie Wessels
San Diego, California
raised fists
against the dead hand
of the pastHerb Shippey
Tifton, Georgia
mother tongue
everything sounds
like a lamentRuth Holzer
Herndon, Virginia
There were a few excellent poems with “mother tongue” in them, but I particularly love how the phrase in this haiku connects to the fragment. The sense of loss between generations within a community is palpable.
smoke curls
feathers
over the cinderGeetha Ravichandran
Mumbai, India
Decree Nisi
no clause to be found
to mend my heartAmanda White
Morvah, Cornwall UK
old recipe book her hand in each notation
Pris Campbell
USA
the student body of evidence on our hands
Sarah Metzler
USA
everyday—
stars and stripes
at half-mastPeg Cherrin-Myers
Franklin, Michigan
These last two pair together well. How sad it is to have to accept some horrors as merely “everyday” events.
& here are the rest of the selections:
forty-one
the ticking of the clock
until it stopsDeborah Karl-Brandt
Bonn, Germany
tartan picnic rug relying on dad to smooth things
Sheila Barksdale
Gotherington, England
curry aroma
i board once more
the night trainSubir Ningthouja
Imphal, India
an old crow
in the wings
of nightJohn Hawkhead
UK
fancy toppings
in a beauty contest
county fairRoberta Beach Jacobson
Indianola, Iowa
syrinx
of light
rippling pondDustin Hackfeld
Ingleside, Texas
morning bird calls
my name on the beak
of a sparrowJackie Chou
USA
my fingers
done walking reach out
ready to dialmeekly reader
USA
home goal
that little white lie
thrown right backCarol Jones
Wales
The Ramayana –
heads in the forest
hands in the societyLakshmi Iyer
India
petrol-scented rose —
a swollen summer crowd
queues for the busAlan Peat
Biddulph, United Kingdom
wing me
to the heart
of the HighlandsAnn Rawson
UK
morning window
a white singlet
watching trafficMaurice Nevile
Canberra, Australia
egg moon
all the romance
in the double helixKeith Evetts
Thames Ditton, UK
the wind and I
speak different tongues…
love has no barriersPaul Callus
Malta
pedal
to the metal
summer heatmarilyn ashbaugh
Edwardsburg, Michigan
connecting with
ancestral Greek heritage
learning my αβγ’spetro c. k.
Seattle, Washington
open sea
the pounding of
a gavelSherry Grant
Auckland, New Zealand
the child
needs a hand
first walkChittaluri Satyanarayana
Hyderabad, India
eating her fill
for four mouths
mother birdRajeshwari Srinivasan
India
impossible headcount –
a winter sea
of pink flamingosNeera Kashyap
Delhi, India
zoo visit
my cheeky monkey
out-chatters the monkeysLouise Hopewell
Australia
bitter truth
always coloured
by the timesAmrutha Prabhu
Bengaluru, India
dryness of a palm
rubbing my chest –
a lullabyDaipayan Nair
India
papercut—
the sharp edge
of his wordsHifsa Ashraf
Rawalpindi, Pakistan
leaving home
a tendril from our creeper
curls aroundArvinder Kaur
Chandigarh, India
welding machine
I wish I could unite
the heartsBakhtiyar Amini
Duesseldorf, Germany
jazz night
ivories warm up
the dance floorRavi Kiran
India
rising creek
river gums
knee deepCarol Reynolds
Australia
soiled
hands sow bread
for tomorrowDaya Bhat
India
doctor’s visit
now my shopping bag
full of greensMinal Sarosh
Ahmedabad, India
blind date
i wear my monday’s
on sundayWendy Bialek
Arizona, USA
boots on the ground
she waits
for the telegramTracy Davidson
Warwickshire, UK
vacation
in the funny papers
a siren wailSamo Kreutz
Ljubljana, Slovenia
alfresco dinner…
blinking back her tears
Ukrainian waitressLuciana Moretto
Treviso, Italy
body builder
he flexes his biceps
on clay feetChrista Pandey
Austin, Texas
moonless sky
strewn all around
the parijat(Parijat, night-jasmine in English, literally means celestial. Parijat bloom at night and fall down in the morning.)
Ram Chandran
India
Sunshine State speed-dating
the gators lurking
just below the surfaceSusan Burch
Hagerstown, Maryland
a bunch of suits
making decisions for all …
another crisisNatalia Kuznetsova
Russia
first dance…
he asks for her hand
in marriageNeena Singh
Chandigarh, India
a sleepy town
the wind takes away the garbage
from the streetSlobodan Pupovac
Zagreb, Croatia
pride parade
a rainbow flag flutters
from their windowMeera Rehm
UK
just a pencil
and an eraser…
haiku therapyTsanka Shishkova
Bulgaria
horned moon
deer musk
fills the nightMinko Tanev
Bulgaria
dead ends the clutter on the forest floor
Cynthia Anderson
Yucca Valley, California
first two-wheeler
she learns about
the uphills of lifeSusan Farner
USA
her smile
overcoming
her childhoodRehn Kovacic
Mesa, Arizona
footsteps
in the sand
strangers I will never knowMargaret Mahony
Australia
heirloom recipe . . .
it says sprinkle the shortbread
with haikuSue Courtney
Orewa, New Zealand
doomed economy
the ruling heads
roll(This ku is in reference to the economic and political crisis in Sri Lanka.)
Vandana Parashar
India
first time in Rome
my SD card full of
ancient bricks & stone初访古罗马
千年古建何其多
装满存储卡chu fang gu luo ma
qian nian gu jian he qi duo
zhuang man cun chu kaChen Xiaoou
Kunming, China
evening calm
breath of green leaves
from the verandahcalma serale
respiro di foglie verdi
dalla verandaDaniela Misso
Italy
new term
shushing up
at the Head’s barkIngrid Baluchi
North Macedonia
on night watch a murder of crows
wanda amos
Old Bar, Australia
attached
to a tree by a thorn—
woodpeckerTony Williams
Scotland, UK
wandering the stacks…
every visit
a picaresque adventureLaurie Greer
Washington, DC
the school teacher –
she counts the noses with a few
extra handsGuido De Pelsmaeker
Holsbeek, Belgium
summer fever
through the paper straw
sour and sweetMircea Moldovan
Romania
chasing butterfly wings with my feet slow drag
Anette Chaney
Harrison, Arkansas
political show
the same weighty words
of white beardsMirela Brăilean
Romania
inheriting
these bitter vineyards . . .
real estateAlfred Booth
France
bravely first
my shadow down the stairs
of depressionRicha Sharma
India
he gives a hand
to the broken bust
KintsugiVictor Ortiz
Bellingham, Washington
reading Issa,
a light breeze
moves the curtainsleggendo Issa –
una leggera brezza
muove le tendeMaria Teresa Piras
Sardinia, Italy
wedding toast
pink bubbles sparkling
in the fluteMona Iordan
Romania
bad hair day
red streaks
at sunsetElla Aboutboul
West Sussex, England
massive hall
the slow baton evokes
a wave of soundRichard Straw
Cary, North Carolina
diamond versus heart
she draws lessons from
the House of CardsAnna Yin
Ontario, Canada
night at the zoo
in the moonlit cage
a silverbackMarianne Sahlin
Sweden
Paris –
ghosts of unsung artists
linger on streetsMilan Rajkumar
Imphal, India
the sun lays
a golden mat
along the pathil sole stende
una stuoia dorata
lungo il sentieroMaria Cezza
Puglia, Italy
Saturday nights
learning to salsa
my two left feetBona M. Santos
Los Angeles, California
all ears . . .
w a i t i n g
for your apologyBarrie Levine
Massachusetts, USA
twenty days
swallowing stones
swimming testMariel Herbert
California, USA
old library
scattered everywhere
book wormsperpustakaan tua
tersebar di mana mana
kutu bukuChristopher Calvin
Kota Mojokerto, Indonesia
pink sunset . . .
my classmate’s
white hairRosa Maria Di Salvatore
Catania, Italy
war and peace
the whole world at his hands–
the shadow playerA.J. Anwar
Jakarta, Indonesia
refugee camp
the unheard voices
of childhoodMona Bedi
Delhi, India
wings
shock of them
taking off at gunshotVibha Malhotra
India
winter sun
wings passing through
runway chainlinksimonj
UK
first buds
two sets of fingerprints
on the wine glassJames Gaskin
Fukushima, Japan
off piste—
ploughing through
mountains of emailsAdele Evershed
Wilton, Connecticut
twenty-five years
together—my son and his wife
count silver liningsPenny Harter
Mays Landing, New Jersey
Medusa’s hair . . .
even in dreams
you wriggle awaySonam Chhoki
Bhutan
a prodigal son’s lantern searching for home
Dan Campbell
Virginia
evening tide
a deeper voice
callsPeggy Hale Bilbro
Alabama, USA
labbra suadenti…
ricamo di gesti
nella penombrapersuasive lips…
embroidery of gestures
in the dim lightGiuliana Ravaglia
Bologna, Italy
ever-drifting
wind-blown feathers
migrating northC.X. Turner
UK
stress test
the white coats
hanging aroundRichard L. Matta
San Diego, California
migrating geese
the refugees talking
about their nestsFlorin C. Ciobica
Romania
wallflower
my shadow steps
onto the dance floorSharon Martina
Warrenville, Illinois
vela in porto l’ombra di una nuvola
sail in port the shadow of a cloud
Angiola Inglese
Italy
war news
counting the fresh graves
we have to tend toMaya Daneva
The Netherlands
slipping into shadow the black cat’s yowl
John Pappas
Boston, Massachusetts
kite weather
the wind chimes play
a symphonyValentina Ranaldi-Adams
Fairlawn, Ohio
auto center
a team of overalls
discuss the dodgersMargaret Tau
New Bern, North Carolina
no words like your words
when my lips are yours
fruit basketJohn S Green
Bellingham, Washington
’round midnight
the number cruncher
crushing his fifthP. H. Fischer
Vancouver, Canada
cedar canoes
mother tongue stripped from her mouth
floating emptyMarcia Burton
Salt Spring Island, Canada
I use your outstretched arm
to trace her diamond crown
CassiopeiaSusan Rogers
Los Angeles, California
poetry reading tears
the pen
makes its markSangita Kalarickal
USA
Guest Editor Alex Fyffe teaches high school English in the Houston area. Although he has been writing haiku off and on for a decade, he only started submitting his work during the Global Event known as 2020. Since then his haiku and senryu have been published in various journals, including Frogpond, Modern Haiku, Failed Haiku, Akitsu Quarterly, and the Asahi Haikuist Network. Alex’s first glimpse of haiku was in a collection of writings by Jack Kerouac, and he found the work of Issa while studying abroad in Japan, but he didn’t fall in love with the haiku until he discovered the free-form work of Santoka Taneda. Currently, Alex uses haiku in the classroom to ease students into poetry and build their confidence as readers and writers. Alex also posts haiku on Twitter @AsurasHaiku.
Lori Zajkowski is the Post Manager for Haiku Dialogue. A novice haiku poet, she lives in New York City.
Managing Editor Katherine Munro lives in Whitehorse, Yukon Territory, and publishes under the name kjmunro. She is Membership Secretary for Haiku Canada, and her debut poetry collection is contractions (Red Moon Press, 2019). Find her at: kjmunro1560.wordpress.com.
The Haiku Foundation reminds you that participation in our offerings assumes respectful and appropriate behavior from all parties. Please see our Code of Conduct policy.
Please note that all poems & images appearing in Haiku Dialogue may not be used elsewhere without express permission – copyright is retained by the creators. Please see our Copyright Policies.
This Post Has 21 Comments
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thank you, alex & staff for providing these wonderful workshops of learning and sharing!
i am enjoying a l l of the gems created from the stimulating prompts you place before the group.
thank you for listing mine amongst this outstanding array of responses.
Hi Alex and Haiku Team,
Thank you very much. Always enjoy here and learnt so much!
Will share Alex’s insight and others at our today’s haiku workshop!
And thanks some friends’ submission as well!
(Yesterday, also donated a small fee to haiku foundation )
Cheers.
Anna yin
After doing some research, I discovered that a few words I thought of as examples of onomatopoeia are not; words like ugh, eek, bah, and wow, for example, are interjections or exclamations a person might make but are not considered sound effects (since they are made by a person to express feelings like disgust, fear, etc., not to mimic anything in particular). I just wanted to note that here as a kind of correction to a few of my listed examples from the prompt. Others, like zzz, fzzt, and snikt and thwip, of course, were proper examples, along with words like kapow, thwack, and so on. I’m sure you can think of many (I’ve seen several already in the submissions!).
Also, thank you all for your comments and for sharing your favorite finds of the week. Always encouraging to see your enthusiasm.
thanks for this, Alex – I’m learning so much!!
I’ve skimmed through (for the first time) this issue of Haiku Dialogue because I was interested to find out more about various ‘literary devices’. Some are easy to spot (for me) others not so easy.
My favourite haiku from the selections is:
.
boots
on
the
ground
men
reduced
to
bodies
Ash Lippert
South Carolina, USA
.
. . . firstly because I’m really sick & tired of the idiom, “on the ground”. These days, it seems there’s a litter of reporters, newsreaders, photographers etc. who are said to be “on the ground” every time I watch the news. I would like to wring the neck of whomever initiated this irritating idiom! Ash’s context of “boots” (metonym) “on the ground” (idiom) is followed by the scathing truth of the straightforward “men reduced to bodies”.
.
Which reminds me: my brother-in-law (Australian) was killed in Vietnam by ‘friendly fire’ (an oxymoron, clearly an oxymoron invented by a moron.) ‘Friendly fire’ : what that means is that he was machine-gunned up and down his spine by a soldier or soldiers of a ‘friendly’ nation (no prizes for guessing which nation) who were staggering around in the bush. How friendly can you get? ( Obviously, communications were less than what was desirable.)
Lorin, thank you for sharing your brother’s story. I agree that friendly fire is a horrible term. In Aldous Huxley’s essay “Words and Behavior,” he critiques the way language is used to manipulate people into thinking less harshly about acts of violence. As an example, saying something abstract like “the use of force is necessary to maintain order” instead of “the use of guns and explosives to harm and kill men, women, and children is necessary to create enough fear of our power to keep others from challenging it.” He argues that the more abstract people can make horrible things, the easier it is for the public to accept it, and so we must be more precise with our words in order to illustrate just how atrocious these abstractions really are. I think “friendly fire” is a perfect example of this. It is much easier for the general public to accept the loss of someone “killed by friendly fire” than to accept the loss of someone “murdered intentionally or accidentally by the gunfire of a person or people on the same side.”
I’m glad that you liked Ash’s poem. I also appreciated the way the poet subverted the idiom by commenting on how it depicts soldiers as less than full people.
Thanks to Alex and all contributors – such an interesting interpretations of the theme.
this haiku by Natalia is particularly poignant to current times – we have come so far but in many ways its the same old power structure.
a bunch of suits
making decisions for all …
another crisis
Natalia Kuznetsova
Russia
Thanks, Alex. Aside from Lori Kiefer’s I particularly valued:
petrol-scented rose —
a swollen summer crowd
queues for the bus
— Alan Peat
(I can smell the fumes, see the reddened faces, feel the fatigue)
dead ends the clutter on the forest floor
— Cynthia Anderson
(I read through this one without lingering at first; but it keeps coming back to haunt me with its dead/ends the clutter…. dead ends/the clutter… and the whole line)
pink sunset . . .
my classmate’s
white hair
— Rosa Maria Di Salvatore
(brimful of wabi-sabi and admirably economical, packed with associations through “classmate”)
a prodigal son’s lantern searching for home
— Dan Campbell
(another haunting line fizzes from creative Dan Campbell)
Amigo, I appreciate the comment, muchas gracias!
Another great selection to read through, Alex, thank you for placing mine among them.
This one made me smile, and I’m sure many of us can relate to the scene. I also enjoyed reading your comments,
seafront gulls
all eyes on the fish
and chips
– Lori Kiefer
London, UK
Dear Alex, thank you for publishing my ‘haiku sugar’ haiku. I was in a quandary whether it needed explanation and pleased now I let it speak for itself.
Thank you Alex for including my haiku, they are all wonderful. I particularly love
after dad left
my little mom brought home
the bacon
Kath Abela Wilson
also
bottle return…
a homeless man pockets
tomorrow’s drink
Marcie Wessels
Just great
Always a pleasure to participate.
My compliments to Guest Editor Alex Fyffe for this delightful selection and the comments which accompany it. Thank you for also highlighting my humble contribution. Congratulations to all featured here.
pink sunset . . .
my classmate’s
white hair
/
Rosa Maria Di Salvatore
Catania, Italy
/
This haiku needs only a few words to express the concept of time passing. A sunset comes after hours of daylight. White hair appears after years of living. Since the sunset is pink, the reader can assume that the classmate’s life at this time of life is good.
Alex, thank-you for publishing my haiku. It is always a pleasure to be published.
Thank-you Kathy and Lori for your efforts. Congrats to fellow Ohioan Nancy Brady on her well-written haiku. Also, congrats to all the other poets.
Thanks Alex for the unusual prompts. I totally agree with Nancy Brady. All the poems featured here are like a new fresh wind. …..
Thanks Valentina for the compliment and Meera for your words, saying it so much better and more poetical than I. Am enjoying reading and rereading the haiku this week.
Dear Alex and the team,
thanks for including my haiku again. Glad to join the weekly challenge! fun to read all!
I hope you don’t mind I share the following:
We are calling for haiku submission to be included in Here and Now, Discover Mississauga and More eBook publication. Please send 1 -5 haiku to info@surewaypress.com before the deadline Sept 1, 2022, publication date Oct, 6 2022. We are also calling for haiku based on the photos we provided at the link. https://www.surewaypress.com/photos-for-haiku-exercises
Those who submit their haiku before Aug 10 will have a possibility of having their work to showcase at the Japan Festival at Celebration Square in Mississauga on Aug 20. 2022.
Thanks.
Anna Yin
thanks for sharing, Anna!
Congrats to all the poets. So many great examples from Valentina’s symphony to Barrie’s apology lack to Pippa’s womb, etc I enjoyed reading them and will probably re-read them over just to pick up more nuances and clever uses of words. I think I understand the difference between the two better now. Perhaps we use them all the time in our day-to-day speech and it just makes sense even though we don’t define them as such. Thanks Alex for this prompt and making sense of the differences and even for selecting one of mine.
Nancy, thank-you for the compliment.