Scott Mason
Essay #27 May/June 2025
The expression “show, don’t tell” is a commonplace in most poetry circles, nowhere more so than in haiku and senryū. And for good reason. Telling generally takes time, and these short poetic forms clearly don’t afford that luxury. But more importantly, instead of achieving persuasion or evoking sympathy, poetry that “tells” often invites argumentation (few didactic poems win over our minds, much less our hearts) and thereby stands in the way of creating a genuine connection with the reader. Better to show or to suggest and, in so doing, to invite a sort of open collaboration, e.g., the aptly celebrated haiku “co-creation” between poet and reader. Ultimate effectiveness in haiku and senryū, as in much else, is a matter of touch dancing rather than arm wrestling.
There are plenty of ways to suggest rather than to tell. One of the best is to invoke nonverbal cues—as at the end of the prior paragraph’s last sentence. These may include not just physical movements or actions but also common gestures and even facial expressions. There’s some logic in this: after all, direct telling through language entails words, which, for all their virtues, are abstractions; on the other hand, nonverbal cues, even when summoned through language, are one level closer to sensed reality. Put somewhat differently, nonverbal cues can offer haiku and senryū poets more direct access to their readers’ experiences, emotions and hearts.
Some of my favorite short form poems employ such cues. So here I’d like to share just a few of them in a brief whirlwind survey to suggest the extent of their collective emotional bandwidth.
Let me begin with an anomaly: not all nonverbal cues need to emanate from humans or even sentient beings to instill a feeling.
Winter burial:
a stone angel points his hand
at an empty sky
– Eric Amann
the puppet
leaning from his booth
blinks at the rain
– Chuck Brickley
return migration
the scarecrow
open-armed
– Lyle Rumpel
One of my own poems might apply here.
men’s store —
thoughtful poses from those
without heads
Nonverbal cues are sometimes offered up by their human protagonists with full deliberation, tapping into our sense of shared understanding or empathy.
Farm country back road:
just like them i lift one finger
from the steering wheel
– Tom Clausen
falling leaves …
we exchange
the gesture to call
– Aparna Pathak
saying too much
the deaf girl
hides her hands
– Matthew Louvière
They can also highlight the featured individual’s sense of personal identity.
daffodils …
a little girl practicing
her princess wave
– Julie Cousineau
On the bus
the teenager pulls out a mirror
and adjusts her pout
– George Swede
the aging beauty
having her knee x-rayed
points her toe
– Carol Montgomery
A particular action or other nonverbal cue can take on special meaning and (occasionally humorous) effect based on an individual’s already-established identity.
Weight lifter
slowly lifting
the teacup
– Garry Gay
war veteran …
lobbing grain
at his hens
– Cynthia Rowe
solicitation
the wildlife activist
flashes her teeth
– Tom Painting
The context provided by a special occasion can also render a nonverbal activity amusing, ironic, poignant or in some other way moving.
Oscar night
adjusting the cuffs
of my pajamas
– John Stevenson
Valentine’s Day —
a cyclist signals
with a long-stemmed rose
– Robert Gilliland
nine-month belly —
she slowly unwraps
the heirloom crèche
– D. Claire Gallagher
Nonverbal cues might evoke wonder or mystery, in all their manifestations.
first snow
the baby’s fingers
close around nothing
– Kay Grimes
baton raised …
a moth spirals
into the silence
– Christopher Herold
bedside vigil —
she clasps a hand
I do not see
– Elizabeth Howard
They can also convey or amplify the array of emotions experienced by the parties to romantic relationships — from desire …
prom day —
on my daughter’s waist
a boy’s hand
– Lucy Lu
candlelight dinner —
his finger slowly circles
the rim of his glass
– Lee Gurga
winking
the bride promises
to obey
– D. Claire Gallagher
… to dissipation …
pledging eternal love
she checks her watch
– Maurice Tasnier
channel dispute
she aims the clicker
at me
– Dee Evetts
shifting clouds
I twist
my wedding ring
– Pamela Miller Ness
… to dissolution …
Discussing divorce
he strokes
the table cloth
– Alexis Rotella
custody hearing
seeing his arms cross
I uncross mine
– Roberta Beary
divorce papers
she carefully snips
a loose thread
– Ferris Gilli
When it comes to sincerity, a keenly observed and deftly reported nonverbal cue might suggest anything from its absence to its presence to something in between.
new employee
everyone smiling
once
– David C. Ward
the bartender
bends to her story
winter night
– Glenn G. Coats
in passing
to another waitress
her real smile
– Michael Ketchek
The aesthetic sense of sabi can perhaps be best conveyed through nonverbal means.
weathered barn
the farmer’s wife
studies her hands
– Barb Behrendt
hands in prayer
the carpenter has one
shorter finger
– Sue Stanford
touching the ashes of my father
– Bob Boldman
The same might be said for the nonverbal ways people respond to adverse circumstances.
no one calls
she gently dusts
her porcelain rabbit
– Elena Naskova
winter waves
she folds and unfolds
her layoff notice
– Linda Robeck
as she talks of aging —
smoothing the creases
in her grocery bag
– Robert Scotellaro
Ultimately, nonverbal cues might suggest ways we can make some accommodation to whatever challenges, small or large, that life poses.
she turns the child
to brush her hair
with the wind
– Anita Virgil
my palsied mother,
pressing my forehead on hers
this Ash Wednesday
– Nicholas Virgilio
bedridden
waltzing
with her hands
– Diane Tomczak
How effectively the right nonverbal cue can speak to missed or uncertain connections.
reunion:
a pause
before the hug
– Ruth Yarrow
autumn dusk
I wave to a girl
waving to someone else
– Dietmar Tauchner
Missing a kick
at the icebox door
It closed anyway.
– Jack Kerouac
But nonverbal cues can also underscore unequivocally positive moments of engagement.
never missing
the two-year-old catches rain
with both hands
– Gary Hotham
blackbird
she describes its flight
with her eyebrows
– Steven Clarkson
swallows at dusk
the way her hands
propel the story
– Glenn G. Coats
Finally, finality. The right nonverbal cue can perfectly punctuate any concluding moment … so herewith, a grand finale.
spring afternoon:
the barber spins me around
towards the mirror
– Mark Dillon
setting sun
the old stockman
coils his whip
– Gavin Austin
with a flourish
the waitress leaves behind
rearranged smears
– Dee Evetts
done
the shoeshine boy
snaps his rag
– Alan Pizzarelli
New Year’s Eve —
the harpist’s hands
still the strings
– Peggy Willis Lyles
The skillful use of nonverbal cues can offer the haiku or senryū poet a highly effective way to not just suggest a moment’s experience but to embody and reenact it. Readers and listeners will gladly lean in.
