If a poem’s essential truth can be rendered as a haiku, it should be.

Examples:

1. The Waste Land, by T. S. Eliot:

April, etc.
Hurry up please it’s time. Blah,
blah, blah, blah…shantih.

2. The Love Song Of J. Alfred Prufrock, also by Eliot:

God, I’m getting old!
It’s so hard to get laid! Plus,
my fashion sense sucks.

3. The Charge of the Light Brigade, Tennyson:

Into the valley, six
hundred rode, cannons, thunder,
blunder — so what’s new?

Yes, it works for slam too!

4. Superheroes, by a bunch of guys from Dallas:

Look! Up in the sky!
Stereotypes! Gay,
black, redneck, baybee!

5. Mission Statement, by Tony Brown:

Our mission is to
string words together until
it sounds like thunder!

6. Like Lily Like Wilson, Taylor Mali:

One mind at a time
gets changed, over and over
and over again.

Now YOU try it!!!! I’ll be in class today all day, so I’ll expect to see your assignments tonight.

There are places
in the world
where we would both be
unremarkable,
as full of unknown potential
as anyone else —
but not here, and not now.
Now is the only place
where we could be
astonishing.
Here and now are danger
and safety;
here and now are they the same thing.

Consider that the difference between
drowning and swimming
is the difference between surrender
and finding faith in Hell.
Consider that this is the moment when
the surface is broken.
Consider this sudden, awful
sense of grace.

How deep is this ocean
we’ve chosen to swim!
Who are we now —
are we above or below the water?
What is this place
where we’ve chosen to be?