Jack Kerouac

American Haiku (Copyright 1959)

 
"The American Haiku is not exactly the Japanese
Haiku.  The Japanese Haiku is strictly disciplined
to seventeen syllables but since the language
structure is different I don't think American
Haikus (short three-line poems intended to be
completely packed with Void of Whole) should worry
about syllables because American speech is
something again...bursting to pop.
 
Above all, a Haiku must be very simple and free
of all poetic trickery and make a little picture
and yet be as airy and graceful as a Vivaldi
Pastorella."
             Jack Kerouac
 
Early morning yellow flowers,
thinking about
the drunkards of Mexico.
 
No telegram today
only more leaves
fell.
 
Nightfall,
boy smashing dandelions
with a stick.
 
Holding up my
purring cat to the moon
I sighed.
 
Drunk as a hoot owl,
writing letters
by thunderstorm.
 
Empty baseball field
a robin
hops along the bench.
 
All day long
wearing a hat
that wasn't on my head.
 
Crossing the football field
coming home from work -
the lonely businessman.
 
After the shower
among the drenched roses
the bird thrashing in the bath.
 
Snap your finger
stop the world -
rain falls harder.
 
Nightfall,
too dark to read the page
too cold.
 
Following each other
my cats stop
when it thunders.
 
Wash hung out
by moonlight
Friday night in May.
 
The bottoms of my shoes
are clean
from walking in the rain.
 
Glow worm
sleeping on this flower -
your light's on.
 
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Jack Kerouac

The Northport Haiku (Copyright 1964)

Jack Kerouac wrote these haiku in Northport in 1964
at the home of the artist Stanley Twardowicz who was
also a good friend of his.  Kerouac had been living
in Northport for some time and it is fortunate that
these rare haiku have been recorded and kept.  They
are a section of a larger collection produced at the
time.  They first appeared in the American small
press magazine STREET Volume 1 number 4 in the
Spring of 1975.
 
 Close your eyes -
 Landlord knocking
On the back door.
 
A quiet Autumn night
  and these fools
Are starting to argue
 
Lonely brickwalls in Detroit
      Sunday afternoon
         piss call
 
     O for Vermont again -
   The barn on an Autumn night
 
         Fiddlydee! -
         Another day,
   Another something-or-other!
 
    Whatever it is, I quit
      -now I'll let my
         breath out -
 
How many cats they need
      around here
     For any orgy?
 
    Tonight I'll lower
       my tail --
I've seen them around town
 
    In Haikkaido a cat
       has no luck
 
     Every cat in Kyoto
   can see through the fog.
 
  The birds start singing
but he is in the cat meadows
 
  I'll climb up a tree
and scratch Katapatafataya
 
     If I go out now,
         my paws
       will get wet
 
    A car is coming but
      the cat knows
     It's not a snake
 
   In London-town cats
        can sleep
 In the butcher's doorway.
 
  I should have scratched
     that spot before
    I started to sleep
 
     Haiku my eyes!
  my mother is calling!
 
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Jack Kerouac

Some Western Haiku

from Book of Haiku (Copyright 1968)

 
Arms folded
 to the moon,
Among the cows.
 
Birds singing
 in the dark
- Rainy dawn.
 
Elephants munching
 on grass - loving
Head side by side.
 
Missing a kick
 at the icebox door
It closed anyway.
 
This July evening,
 a large frog
On my door sill.
 
Catfish fighting for his life,
 and winning,
Splashing us all.
 
Evening coming -
 the office girl
Unloosing her scarf.
 
The low yellow
 moon above the
Quiet lamplit house
 
Shall I say no?
 - fly rubbing
its back legs
 
Unencouraging sign
 - the fish store
Is closed.
 
Nodding against
 the wall, the flowers
Sneeze
 
Straining at the padlock,
 the garage doors
At noon
 
The taste
 of rain
- Why kneel?
 
The moon,
the falling star
- Look elsewhere
 
The rain has filled
 the birdbath
Again, almost
 
And the quiet cat
 sitting by the post
Perceives the moon
 
Useless, useless,
 the heavy rain
Driving into the sea.
 
Juju beads on the
 Zen manual:
My knees are cold.
 
Those birds sitting
 out there on the fence -
They're all going to die.
 
The bottoms of my shoes
 are wet
from walking in the rain
 
In my medicine cabinet,
 the winter fly
has died of old age.
 
November - how nasal
 the drunken
Conductor's call
 
The moon had
 a cat's mustache
For a second
 
A big fat flake
 of snow
Falling all alone
 
The summer chair
 rocking by itself
In the blizzard
 
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Jack Kerouac

from Heaven and Other Poems (Copyright 1977/Posthumous)

 
The little worm
 lowers itself from the roof
By a self shat thread
 
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Jack Kerouac

from the novel Desolation Angels (Copyright 1965)

Desolation Angels is similar to a long haibun.
Some of the fragments make it as haiku while
others don't quite make it.  I've included a
few that seem to be close to what we'd call
traditional American Haiku.  (John Hudak)
 
A bubble, a shadow -
 woop -
The lightning flash
 
Thunder in the mountains -
 the iron
Of my mother's love
 
Mist boiling from the
 ridge - the mountains
Are clean
 
Mist before the peak
 - the dream
Goes on
 
as cold
  water in a dell
    on a dusty tired trail -
 
Girls' footprints
 in the sand
- Old mossy pile
 
Wooden house
raw gray -
Pink light in the window
 
Neons, Chinese restaurants
 coming on -
Girls come by shades
 
(thanks to Ron Patterson for supplying
the Kerouac haiku reference material)

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