Haiku Attempts 1 Favorites
Global Haiku • Millikin University • Fall 2016
brown water flows Jordan Comish I think that "homeland" is an interesting, sort of political or patriotic word. The brown water I take to be either flood water, which we have seen lots of recently, OR polluted water. I like to think of it as flood water, so this haiku is then imagined as times of difficulty and natural disaster . . . homes being flooded across the homeland. The birds continue to do their thing, even though us ground-dwellers are suffering. If it is pollution, then the disaster is man-made and the birds are the canaries . . . still chirping so it is not too late to do something about pollution and clean up our environment! Randy b |
we sit on the porch |
camping under the stars |
catching frogs Alexsenia Ralat (2) |
sticky under |
August night |
the sun Shannon Netemeyer I like how this haiku plays with the phrase "catches the eye" which is usually the eye being drawn to something positive. In this case the sun catches the eye of the batter, which probably means he is not able to "keep your eye on the ball" as he has been instructed. Strike one! Randy b |
itching |
reflections |
grandma's peach tree Anna Harmon (7) I love the colors in this haiku. And in my mind, Grandma doesn't care if her grandkids steal a ripe peach. Now if the mailman tries that, he'd better ask politely first! Randy b |
old sneakers Anna Harmon (8) I especially liked this poem because it lead me to reminisce over the entire summer. All of my memories from late nights and being outside flooded back to me when I read this. Jacob If you can't tell, I like Haiku that give me feelings of nostalgia. This is of course one such haiku. It reminds me of childhood summers spent wandering through the rural wilderness, hiking, camping, or just exploring. It makes me feel that good kind of heat of running around on those old summer days. It just brings back memories of a happy, simpler time for me personally, and that is why I picked this as my personal favorite from kukai. Doug This haiku is my favorite haiku from Kaiku 1 because of the vivid image it creates. I can picture my own pair of old, worn-down sneakers, essential for a summer filled with adventures. The word "crusted" adds so much more detail to the description of these shoes: I can picture mud not only on the soles of the shoes but stuck to some of the cloth on the sides, maybe from hiking or exploring a creek bed. I can feel the texture of the caked on mud as I slowly pick at the shoes and successfully crack off a piece or two. I can smell the muddy stench that escapes these shoes as I put them on and travel to new places. I can smell the fresh air of the places I travel in these shoes. This haiku has adventure written all over it without even saying the word—I think that's what I love most about it! Alyssa |
perfection~ Morgan Vogels (2) |
she smiles at the sun Alexsenia Ralat (7) |
flat lake Alexander Erickson (4) |
hand raised |
as the sun sets |
we play |
music in the kitchen Ryan Sikora (7) I connected to this haiku because it brings about vivid memories for me. Growing up, we always ate spaghetti for dinner. I have memories of helping my dad chop vegetables and make the sauce, and taking this time to talk with him and learn how to cook. This also reminds me of setting table and eating together as a whole family. As the oldest of 6 children, dinner was always a time that we all ate together and talked about our days and caught up. This haiku reminds me of the casual conversation and laidback attitudes we had during these times. Anna |
He downs a glass Kaia Ball (3) This haiku makes me think of my own experiences trying to force myself to enjoy the taste of tea. Plain tea always tastes like dirty water to me, so I add a ton of honey and sugar. This essentially makes it honey and dirty water, which is still not particularly tasty. It is the last line of this haiku that really makes me enjoy it the most. Because I associate many of my hobbies with elderly people I feel that I should also enjoy tea. However, my youthful taste buds just cannot enjoy the flavor of any tea I try. In this way I am stuck between my physical age and my mental age, wanting to enjoy a nice hot cup of tea but not having the palate to suffer through it. Savannah |
rain enough Randy Brooks (7) I like this piece because it makes me feel a subtle warmness. It gives the feeling of hearing the rain outside, which in itself can be pleasant, and also the comforting feeling of being safe and sound inside. The best yet is that it's two people getting ready for bed together. It's just the kind of thing you really only do with someone you love. Jordan This haiku came up in our discussion about metaphor and simile. Is this haiku a metaphor? Or is it a juxtaposition of images that can't be easily resolved, more of a disjunction of images? Rain is outdoors. Toothbrushes are indoors? Camping out? Nearly dry toothbrushes? More of our associations of "enough" of something to share? A shared scarcity? More about togetherness than brushing teeth or the rain? Hmmm. |
morning's sunny glory Jordan Comish (5) This haiku had a lot of imagery for me. I imagined getting up in the morning, having a warm cup of tea, and sitting on the swinging bench that is on the porch of the Pi Beta Phi house where I live. However, school is currently in session, so there is also the thought of the "professional nod" at the end of the day that I always have to put on when I go to class. Being someone who likes to get up early and have their time to wake up for the day, I was able to relate to this haiku more than I thought I would be able to. This was definitely my favorite of the haiku in the kukai. Caroline |
the salty taste |
companions by the patch Jordan Comish (3) |
light switch flick |
t rex Alexsenia Ralat (8) This is my favorite haiku in this kukai because it is both playful and serious. The language is surprising and playful, but the content takes a possible dark turn. On the one hand I can imagine this as a joking way of referring to a pregnancy, with the embryo kicking around in the womb. The mother to be has nicknamed her baby to be as her little "t rex". Somehow the image of little forearms fits an imagined foetus. Of course "t rex" also suggests teeth and that the embryo is eating the mother! More simply, sometimes it kicks too hard or pushes her back nerve and it does hurt. The darker reading is that this is before conception and that the "t rex" is a terrible invasion, a horrific sexual assault. That hurts to even imagine! Randy b |
popcorn bag Owen Pulver (4) |
Fine then! Kaia Ball (11) I absolutely love Kaia's haiku. It's so defiant and sassy and strong. You can just feel the determination within those lines. It's as if she's saying fine, call me what you want, make your own assumption, but I know who I am. I will not change because you say so. I will not bend to become the thing that you think I am. "I will be a dandelion/weed in name alone." Knowing Kaia personally, I know that this haiku is personal and I admire her for being able to write what she's feeling in a way that is healthy and beautiful. Alexsenia |
still water Owen Pulver (3) |
swirling tides |
the dogs run |
reggae music Alexander Erickson (3) I loved this haiku because it displays one of my favorite aspects of music. I see a crowd coming out to the house show to relax and forget about everything, even time. They forget to check the time and eventually the music takes them so far away that they stay until dawn. This haiku just made me feel warm and I had an immediate reaction to it. Shannon |
dreaded sunrise |
laying in the pool |
bare mattress Kaia Ball (8) |
Grandma's quilt Owen Pulver (3) |
ice Clinks Douglas Sherrill (4) |
sticky Hands |
wandering |
father pushing his son Owen Pulver (4) |
leaves falling Morgan Vogels This haiku reminds me of Friday night football games when I was in high school. I went to a very small school, and our football team was the perennial doormat of our conference. However, every new school year brought a renewed sense of hope for our team to snap out of its losing ways. Old men at the barber shop would talk about how some new quarterback was going to bring us back to relevancy. Green and white Dwight Trojan apparel would go on sale at the drugstore. On opening night, almost everyone in town was packed into the home bleachers on the west end of the field. When our team ran out and took the field, hope filled every man, woman, and child. Win or lose, we still loved our boys of fall, and patiently waited for next year. Owen |
warm outside |
man on the moon Ryan Sikora (10) |
crayon days: friends Alyssa Becker (3) They are kindergarteners, swapping crayons to better craft twin sunsets, giggling over finger paint, splitting packets of Teddy Grahams and goldfish. Mothers predict a beautiful friendship, swapping phone numbers and smiles. They are second graders, and a game of tag turns rough. They escape with one black eye and the sweetness of shared victory. They resolve to pursue jump-roping, and plot their ascent into Olympian status. They are fourth graders, holding hands while a decrepit woman outlines the miracle of life that seems like a curse. They use the free cotton strips to soften the edges of an iron bed frame. They are sixth graders playing truth or dare on cold linoleum, baggy gym shorts little protection against the chill. Not Bobby, they gasp, but the others insist. Half of them saunters up to the unsuspecting victim and mashes mouths. It is as sour as imagined. They are twelve, they are thirteen and summers come and go. They try Charles and Lashawn and Marcus, they try Ahmed and David and Juan. They try at fourteen and fifteen and at the first sixteenth birthday they find that kissing can be very, very sweet. They are seventeen and very good at hiding. They are eighteen, off on their way to college, and before anyone knows it they are nineteen twenty twenty one and they are braver, they are more secure and they stop hiding, start blossoming. They are iconic and dynamic, a force to be reckoned with. At twenty two one of them gets down on one knee. They are twenty two and three quarters and twenty two and a half, and they wear dresses as white as the paper they drew on as kids. Fathers march them down the aisle. Bells clang as they totter down church steps. Mothers predict a beautiful friendship, hurling rice and swapping smiles. Kaia |
days become shorter Alyssa Becker (4) |
brown grass Anna Harmon (6) I like this haiku because it is easily imagined and felt. When reading this, I immediately felt the desperateness of the grass, needing even just the smallest amount of water. The color of the grass speaks for its need, which is really interesting to me. I feel that when you read the phrase "brown grass", you immediately almost feel the thirst on your own, like you need a drink of water just from reading it. So, it's interesting to me that the author chose brown grass to describe his or her thirst. Renee |
ice cream stand |
lemonade |
drinks poured Savannah Riestenberg (4) |
midnight at a desk Caroline Lodovisi (10) Reading this haiku made me think of myself in a dimly lit room working on my computer. When writing papers I tend to get annoyed so I need to take breaks. I do not always take off my glasses when I take a break |
my reflection |
life of the party Morgan Vogels (6) |
cornfields |
sunrise |
strawberries Shannon Netemeyer (5) |
last-minute scramble Renee Sample (6) This was my favorite haiku from the kukai. I really like this one because I think it really fits with my ideal style of doing homework, which would be procrastinating. While it is definitely not the preferred method of getting things done and off of your plate, I'm glad that I am not the only one who procrastinates. I really like the word choice of "scramble," because it makes me think of the days last year that I would fall asleep at night thinking that I was going to wake up a few hours early the next morning and finish my homework before having to go to class. Unfortunately, most of the time my plans did not work out and I would be stuck with a half an hour to finish a whole assignment, take a shower, and walk to class. Although it may seem like this was a challenge (which it definitely was), I always seemed to make it out on time and finishing my assignment. The only bad part was that it definitely was a scramble for me. Morgan |
pencils sharpened |
front porch in my rearview Anna Harmon (5) |
© 2016, Randy Brooks • Millikin University
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