Writing daoku (objective hokku) in English is really very simple.
First, you need an experience involving Nature and the place of humans within and as a part of Nature. And for that, of course you need a connection to the natural world. One cannot expect to sit in a city apartment all the time and still write daoku, because there is no connection with Nature in such a place.
That means to write daoku, one must get out and connect with Nature, whether in a home garden, a park, or a trail through a field or forest, or a place by a stream, a pond, a river, the seashore, and so on. You get the idea.
Next, do not think of daoku as “poetry.” Do not think of yourself as a “poet.”
Think of daoku as recording an experience of the senses — whether seeing, tasting, hearing, touching, smelling, or a combination of any of these. But it is not just any experience. It has to be one that for some inexplicable reason, we feel to be significant. If someone asks us why it is significant, we cannot say — and that is why it is expressed in the simple words of daoku. The daoku evokes the experience, and with that comes the feeling of a significance beyond the words.
In daoku the words should be the means of transmitting the experience. And to keep that experience pure and strong, the writer should not add any of his or her own thinking about the experience. Daoku should just transmit the experience, free of any commentary or interpretation or elaboration by the writer.
When we write such a verse in English — or translate an old Japanese hokku with those characteristics into English — the result is a daoku — an objective hokku.
Here is a hokku in transliterated Japanese:
Hirou mono mina ikite iru shiohi kana
And here is the daoku it becomes in English:
Everything picked up
Chiyo is walking along the beach at low tide. She reaches down to pick up some seemingly lifeless shells, but is surprised to feel and see them moving in her hand; they are not dead, but alive.
Now as you can see, all that the writer needed to do was to put that experience into simple words. In English, we divide the result into three lines consisting of two parts — one longer, one shorter, and those two parts are separated by appropriate punctuation. Each line begins with a capital letter, and the whole verse ends with another appropriate punctuation mark.
It is just that easy.
Of course there are some things to keep in mind. A hokku is not just a random assemblage of things. We should feel a relationship among the elements of a hokku, just as the “moving things” in Chiyo-ni’s verse relate to the beach at low tide. And every hokku as daoku is set within the context of a particular season, which we add as a heading in parentheses, so it will be transmitted to the reader.
Hokku — and consequently daoku — should be written and read within the appropriate season, which keeps us in harmony with the seasons and their changes. The exception is that when learning, examples out of the appropriate season may be used.
It is also helpful to write daoku that show us something experienced in a new way, from a different perspective. That helps to keep the experience fresh and new. And never forget that feeling of un-speak-able significance. If a daoku is not felt to have that significance, it tends to be just uninteresting and mediocre.
Remember to keep daoku brief. In English there is no fixed number of required syllables. Use ordinary, everyday words. Above all, transmit the experience, not your thoughts about the experience.