Haiku Kukai 2

Global Haiku • Millikin University • Fall 2017

the tire on the tree
creaks slowly
above a headstone

sun rising through blinds
mint toothpaste
and exhaustion

was it all a dream?
truck all packed
and she's gone . . . forever

struggles and trials—
end doesn't seem near
till you persevere

Sunday evening
sluggish chatter
after warm cherry pie

closed laptop
fingerprints
turn on the lights

video games with sister—
mountain dew and
dill pickle chips

the hallway lengthens
the further I look
I'm missing a button

soft whispers in the library
turning old pages
Medieval France

dark audience
microphone drips with sweat
the music begins

glossy finger nails
tap      tap      tap
against the wooden desk

pigtails
she runs through the yard
and face plants

quiet evening
warm tea
calms my soul

stadium full
eyes staring
only thought—don't mess up

tears pour down
gasping for air
. . . too much laughter

hot day
my ponytail holder
snaps

bunny slippers
soft footsteps
sneaking to the fridge

coffee gone cold
papers strewn across the floor
Sunday afternoon

humid night
she clicks off the lamp
creaking above

ankles deep
bitter cold water
makes me feel alive

running to class
he opens the door
an empty room

patiently waiting
for a slight nibble or pull
wishing papa was here

study hall
they look at one another
from across the room

his sweater
is not him
better than nothing

sound asleep in the dorm
train horn
there you are Millikin

some at the pool
others at the library
finals week

midnight fire burning slow
stars beam across the sky
I want her to know

shaky knees
behind a podium
speech class

family game night
ends
a flipped board

to-do list
not enough
time

play at home plate
collision . . .
home fans roar

heavy breathing
a final breath released
as I hit send

November chill
a single voice chiming
over the church bells

wearing sweats to
the first day of classes—
college

loose gray sweatpants
over-sized tie dyed t-shirt
pizza box

tempurpedic pillow
sinking deeper
into thought

no time—
for a hot shower or meal
fast approaching deadline

Bible verses and
melodic hymns
won't bring her back

the old stone wall
crumbles
to pieces

the old tree
stands tall
against the storm

 

 

 

turning on the lights
slowly . . .
unable to be alone

the train whistle
pierces the night
let me sleep

the waves crash
I just hope
the boat doesn't

home from work
smelling of grease
now homework

I did
literally nothing
Labor Day

lunch with a client
she smiles through
the sexist jokes

the little pup
sits there barking
at the mountain

movie night with friends
just kidding
genetics

cramped hands
deadlines
a squirrel eats an acorn

four white walls
surround me
my new undecorated room

high heat
turning the tiny seed
into a fluffy crunch

all nighter
group project
being done solo

the maroon raspberry
waiting to be picked
by the perfect person

knees tremble
I grunt as I lift
       my nursing books

2:30am
want to go to bed
laundry

brown paper bag
napkin with
a handwritten note

the professor lingers
on an incredibly relevant idea
before ending class

I look to the sky
and wonder how much of it
is made of my breath

everyone expects more
I'm just
      me

a single seed
one idea
blossoms indefinitely

world domination
gathered around a table
risking it all

swallowing my fear
I          step out
into the light

ten more pages . . .
five . . .
unfinished     I fall asleep

fingers fumbling
       beneath the surface of the popcorn
colliding into one another

 
let the river take me wherever he chooses

everything wrapped perfectly
just like Christmas
taco Tuesday

in the silence
of the clear night
keyboard clicks

roaring rapids
expertly weaving through rocks
while whistling

headphones in
mouthing lyrics at friends
procrastination

missing my happy place
the roaring river flows
through my mind

headphones in
world out
Stevie Wonder

floating downstream
on an aluminum canoe
drifting side to side

a parks worker
picks up people's trash
"labor day"

busy supermarket
little girl
runs into my knees

late at night
a cup of coffee
warms my hands

writing dates
in a planner
to feel in control

a blanket of snow
wind whips my face
I prefer summer

© 2017, Randy Brooks • Millikin University
All rights returned to authors upon publication.