Sijo: The Scoop on This Poetry Form
How and why to write haiku’s Korean cousin
Poetry advances prose
All writers benefit from reading and writing poetry. It is a tutorial in lyricism, vocabulary, rhythm, and meaning. And the lessons picked up in verse carry over to prose.
Many prose writers would like to experiment with poetry, but they lack confidence in their poetic skills. They don’t know where to start. And they don’t see the immediate benefit.
Several years ago, my daughter introduced me to sijo (Korean 시조, pronounced SHEE-jo). She had been teaching this form to her high school students for several years and encouraged me to write one. She shared prize-winning poems and sent me some tips.
As I explored this form, I realized how accessible it was. That it would give me practice in lyricism. In rhythm and sound. In emotion and meaning. In brevity and storytelling and what’s really important to a piece.
And that I might win significant prize money in a contest with no entry fee.
Sijo form
Sijo is often compared to haiku. Both are Asian forms that originate from age-old traditions. Both are three-line poems with a syllabic formula. There are significant differences, but since most poets and prose writers are familiar with haiku, sijo will feel familiar.
Sijo topics
Every poem starts with an idea, but finding that germ is sometimes the most challenging step. According to The Sejong Cultural Society, sijo explores cosmological, metaphysical, or pastoral themes—topics so broad almost any theme could fit. Sijo's subjects can range from ancient topics to contemporary problems; from serious contemplations to modern humor; from adult problems to childhood secrets. The freedom to write a personal story, or universal truth, or intimate message gives this poem its power.
Sijo syllabic formula
When writing sijo, there is a prescribed formula with enough structure to give direction, but enough freedom to allow for creativity.
Line one is the introduction and includes these groups of syllables: 3–4–4–4.
Line two is the development and includes these groups of syllables: 3–4–4–4.
Line three is the twist and conclusion and includes these groups of syllables: 3–5–4–3.
There is leeway in this formula. The poet should aim for 14–16 syllables in each line and 44–46 in the poem, but the Sejong Cultural Society says the message is more important than structure. (This is the traditional form, but some modern sijo are written in six lines, with each line divided in two.)
Sijo music and lyricism
Sijo are supposed to be lyrical. They should sound like a song. Creating musical phrases within a prescribed syllable count forces the writer to pay attention to the music in words—essential practice in both poetry and prose.
Learning Sijo
For poets learning sijo, or for teachers using it in the classroom, the Sejong Cultural Society provides online resources.
- Experts David McCann of Harvard University and Mark Peterson of Brigham Young University discuss sijo form, history, and analysis in a series of video lectures.
- In a set of high school and elementary school videos, my daughter Elizabeth Jorgensen and other teachers present sample lessons to students.
Sijo contests
It was the prize money that convinced me to write my first sijo. The Sejong Cultural Society’s contest is held annually in the spring. In 2021, the deadline is April 30 with adult prizes of $1,000, $750, and $500. A student division offers prizes of $500, $400, and $300. In 2021, my home state of Wisconsin held a similar debut contest (now closed) with adult prizes of $400, $200, and $200.
I couldn’t resist the lure of $22 per syllable — or even Wisconsin’s $11 per syllable.
Takeaways
Since my daughter introduced me to sijo, I have entered the competition each year. I have yet to win even honorable mention, but my poems influence my essays and books. I now check prose for lyricism, for rhythm, for synonyms that sound more musical. I aim for brevity and meaning. I read my words aloud before I click send. I don’t call myself a poet yet, but now I try to think like one.
Nancy Jorgensen’s 2019 memoir, “Go, Gwen, Go: A Family’s Journey to Olympic Gold,” is co-written with daughter Elizabeth Jorgensen and published by Meyer & Meyer Sport.
