Gillian Genardo
Gillian Genardo
Haiku Kukai 2 Favorites
Global Haiku • Millikin University • Fall 2019
misty night Victoria Stuart (8) |
withering moon Jessi Kreder When you believe in the power of the universe, the universe rewards you with signs to show that it is there and listening. The universe manifests itself by allowing nature to mirror what is going on in my life. When I am beaming, the flowers are brighter than normal. When my essence is full, the birds sing louder. When I am down, the skies get gray. When I feel myself closing off to everything around me, the blooms close, too. When I tend to wither, the moon withers, too. Nature has felt these experiences more than I ever will, so I look to it for guidance. Where to next? Madeline Wilson, Fall 2019 |
creek walk Elizabeth Napier This reminds me of several experiences I’ve had in the woods. Finding a dead animal is always jarring. I've found a baby coyote, several disembodied deer limbs, and various bones and skulls. There's always a question of why the animal died, and a little bit of sadness that goes along with the understanding that it is natural. I know this surprised but accepting feeling well and I think this haiku captures it. Morgan Bode, Fall 2019 |
it will be okay Jessi Kreder (7) |
the stars fade |
quiet bench Jessi Kreder I really like this Haiku because it reminds me of a post apocalypse type world. But it’s not a sad world, it’s a quiet world. It’s a world of quiet that leads me to have some hope. I like the use of the word rusted. It really fits well here. I also really adore the imagery of the leaf on a bench. It’s a really great Haiku. John DeAngelo, Fall 2019 |
leaves wave to me |
out of the woods Jessi Kreder (8) I really enjoyed this haiku when I read it. I am not entirely sure what Jessi intended when she wrote this. I am not even sure what her inspiration was or if this haiku has any real story behind it. All I know is that I had a very emotional reaction to this haiku because it made me think of events in my own life. Personally, I see the monster in this haiku to a mental illness. I have been medicated for Generalized Anxiety Disorder and Depression since I was about 10 years old. It has been a continuous struggle, but dealing with a mental illness for almost ten years has taught me how to face it head on and fight it. Personally, I took this haiku to mean that someone has been happy and health for a while now. They are “out of the woods,” so to speak, when it comes to struggling with their mental illness. But suddenly, a bad day comes around and this person is back to fighting their personal monster. I think I look at this haiku in such a specific way because I have had experiences where I’ve been so suddenly over come with anxiety that I had to lock myself in my bedroom and fight through it. Soon, you’re fighting the monster for so long, that it almost becomes an old friend. Either way, with or without my interpretation, I find this haiku to be hauntingly beautiful. Gillian Genardo, Fall 2019 |
acoustic air Jessi Kreder (8) I am ten years old and I have just gotten out of the car after a long morning at my grandfather’s house. My neighborhood friends are down the street playing our ritual Sunday afternoon game of four square in my neighbor’s driveway. In the background you can hear the baseball tournament at the park down the street. Another block over, there are children playing in a pool to escape the July heat. Our neighbors are having a family barbeque and the guests brought their dogs. Summer is alive and life is peaceful. This is where this haiku brings me. Madeline Wilson, Fall 2019 This haiku made me feel at peace and it allows me to perfectly picture the atmosphere of the night in which this haiku would take place. I picture a fun summer night around a bonfire with lots of friends and there’s a soothing energy in the air as everyone enjoys each other’s company. The phrase “acoustic air” is an interesting phrase that I’ve never heard before, but it perfectly describes the type of silky-smooth energy of the event. Additionally, laughter bouncing in the breeze paints a picture where everyone is having a good time and the happiness is contagious. Overall, I greatly appreciate the feeling created from the haiku. Ben Kuxmann, Fall 2019 |
town festival Nawaj KC (4) |
night reminded me of you Rebecca Jaffe (14) |
dirty old canvas Nawaj KC This is one we did not talk about in class but one I really liked. I thought the words used provoked a strong image in my mind. I pictured an attic where this dirty old canvas has sat because no one wanted to hang it up. Then suddenly, I see hands that grab it to start painting a new thing. I like the idea that just because something is dirty or old does not mean that it can't still be used or painted with a new coat. I think this poem has deep metaphors in it and the imagery helps add to that. I enjoyed this poem and props to the author for creating such vivid imagery. Joel Ochoa, Fall 2019 |
indoor girl Rebecca Jaffe This poem made me laugh. I was an indoor child, meaning I played barbies and watched PBS Kids instead of playing outside, to my parents' dismay. This poem makes me think of my childhood and how everyone I wanted to play with wanted to go outside and I wanted to stay inside and make movies. It makes me feel warm. Meghan Hayes, Fall 2019 |
sky blue eyes |
strolling slowly Rebecca Jaffe (6) This haiku represents my attitude towards almost every day. I usually do not put in extreme effort to the way I look, and I attempt to stroll slow trying to relax. I may not always be successful at remaining in this casual manner, but I do manage to walk around with little care about what other people think of me. Overall this haiku seemed lighthearted and positive to me, so I enjoyed it. The short lines and small number of syllables also created a nice rhythm to the haiku. Tori Stuart, Fall 2019 |
I am the Moss Morgan Bode (12) This haiku is very interesting because the metaphor connecting the person to the moss, capitalizing the word Moss to show it’s a person, and calling the moss “she”. Not only does the haiku have good imagery it also has many layers to its meaning. When I first read it, it made me think of somebody sticking to relationships that is dead, unhealthy, or dying. The use of the word “she” really makes the reader place themselves in the shoes of “the Moss” and feel connected to the long dead things that the moss is growing on. Jessi Kreder, Fall 2019 I interpret this poem as someone who is not able to let things go. She continues to pursue a man after being rejected, or yearn after a friend after a falling out. Maybe she cannot stop grieving over the loss of a loved one. The imagery of moss and comparing it to longing is stunning. The phrasing “long dead things” rolls off of the tongue. This haiku is beautifully written. Lizzie Napier, Fall 2019 |
I long to be alone Morgan Bode (14) This is one of the haikus that set up a pretty scene or a comforting feeling and then hit you with an unexpected turn that makes you reread and think about it deeper. When I first read this I felt a content, calming feeling then it turned into a societal problem. I think its very interesting how the author only put in those last two words and completely changed the meaning and tone of the haiku. The want to be in the woods after dark is connected to male privilege is very creative and thoughtful. Jessi Kreder, Fall 2019 I really enjoyed this poem because I can relate to it a lot. Being a short, small girl in this time can be very scary. Especially with going to school in Decatur. With the rise in human trafficking and women just getting taken, it is so scary to think I have to carry something to protect myself everywhere I go. I do long to see the trees at twilight or just most things at night. I love driving around my hometown by myself at night but sometimes I get freaked out if a car is behind me and I get worried that it is following me. My mom also gets freaked out if I am going somewhere at night with my friends because she worries for my safety. I long to live in a world where I can just walk around outside and not be bothered because the night is so calming to me. Cassie Reed, fall 2019 This highlighted my privilege and made me thing of night walks as a luxury not everyone gets to enjoy. I find my peace walking alone at night in the trees. I revel in the silence of the forest at all time of day and night, alone save for the life of the woods. It makes me feel disgusted that people cannot take part of something so mentally refreshing and necessary just because of their gender. Alexander Bergland, Fall 2019 |
in the distance Michael Hoelting (5) |
she shows herself in blooms Morgan Bode I love this haiku because it makes me feel empowered as a woman. Sometimes, being around nature makes me feel as if I'm surrounded by a nurturing goddess. This poem captures that feeling perfectly. This haiku feels delicate and beautiful through the word "Blooms," yet strong and majestic through the word "Goddess." I love the line, "breathe deep," because it is a helpful reminder to appreciate the world around me and take in its beauty. Rebecca Jaffe, Fall 2019 |
I stayed strong Michael Hoelting (4) This poem really hits home for me. I am a person who gives my all to every person I care about. If they called me at 3 in the morning saying they needed me, I’d hop in my car and go to them, no matter if I needed the sleep. I often feel like I’m not supposed to put myself first. I feel like I shouldn’t care about myself because there are other people who need me. And other people take advantage of me that way. This poem speaks to those of us who are the helpers of the world. Meghan Hayes, Fall 2019 |
a map Michael Hoelting (4) It's my bottle of pills. It tells me exactly what to take and when to help my body, but it doesn't draw the line to happiness. So, I don't know why I just start crying when I hear my grandma, mom, or dad's voices on the phone. I don't know why I cry if I can't see my boyfriend that night when I'm usually fine about it. I don't know why I just feel like I'm about to start crying during dinner. Shouldn't it be showing me? Maddie Curtin, Fall 2019 |
grocery store Jonathan Kuebler (5) |
I am responsible for Madeline Curtin (7) I really loved this haiku because I am at a point in my life where I can really emotionally connect to the message in it. I am normally the type of person that will put other people’s happiness above my own—I have to make them happy before I can make myself happy. It was really just recently where I started to decide that I have to work on achieving my own happiness as well. Also, I think I am at a point where I am putting in all the work now so that I can be happy later. There are plenty of times where school has left me sleep deprived and frustrated. College is incredibly difficult, but I push forward so that I can reach the level of happiness that I desire. I am planting and sewing the seeds of my happiness now, so that one-day they will hopefully bloom. Finally, I really enjoyed the punctuation used in this haiku. I think the use of periods at both the end of the second line and the end of the third line makes this haiku all the more powerful. Gillian Genardo, Fall 2019 |
no time to think |
long distance Jonathan Kuebler I didn’t notice this poem the first time, but it caught my eye when I looked over the kukai again. I like it because you can take it in many ways. You can think about it literally, as a long-distance race. Or, if you’re a hopeless romantic like myself, you can think about it as a long-distance relationship. When you’re doing long-distance with someone, it sometimes feels like you’re running at different paces. Sometimes, things are hard and you end up “tripping.” It’s the question of whether or not you can get back up that matters. Meghan Hayes, Fall 2019 |
places I’ll never feel |
Labor Day hike Madeline Curtin This was a poem that had very strong imagery associated with it. When I first read it, I could picture a couple walking side by side on a path through a park with the sun shining down on them. Then I saw them intertwine their fingers to start holding hands it is a really cute image that made me smile because of love. It is just a really sweet and simple poem that elicits a very specific image and that is why I enjoy this haiku. Joel Ochoa, Fall 2019 |
but what happens Madeline Wilson (13) This Haiku has so much mystery in it, but also a hint of fear. It embodies the human race’s constant search for a purpose. A lot of people think that leaving a legacy gives them purpose, but just like the words you once wrote on a spare piece of notebook paper, all memories fade. Nothing is permanent, so why would we be? Lizzie Napier, Fall 2019 This one is another Haiku that is really great. I love the existential part of it that makes me think about the future. But I also love how it makes me think of love and relationships with others. It reminds me of how finite our lives are. It’s very sad, but it was executed very well. Madeline should be very proud of it. John DeAngelo, Fall 2019 It is my strongest personal conviction that contributing to the collective human knowledge stands at top of list of things an individual can do. To leave something scholarly valuable for the next generation to build on is, in my biased opinion, the most virtuous thing to do. This haiku, in my point of view, asks a perhaps unwelcome question: what happens when our works fade to obscurity long after we are gone? Will the fact that we ever existed also fade? One might assume that the question remains unanswered. But does it? I believe the question was rhetorical in the first place. And the answer unambiguous: Yes, you will fade the moment your pencil does. Nawaj KC, Fall 2019 |
quiet drive Morgan Bode (3) |
the largest constellations John DeAngelo (11) I love this haiku because the imagery is so ridiculously beautiful. I immediately imagine a painting of an exhausted woman with the shiniest eyes that become more complex the longer I stare. I am sometimes insecure about the bags under my eyes, but this haiku shows me that there is beauty in the complexity of a worn-out human being. No matter what this woman has been through, she does not lose the sparkle and gleam in her eyes. Rebecca Jaffe, Fall 2019 This Haiku is gorgeous. I see an old woman, a face lined with wrinkles and bags around her ancient eyes. However, the sparkle and knowledge behind her eyes peek through. The idea of having so many stars in your eyes that you can paint a picture with them gives me goosebumps. It makes me wonder about what kind of constellations would be found in my own eyes. Lizzie Napier, Fall 2019 |
the house creaks John DeAngelo My house is old. It's about 100 years old, my dad lived there as a kid before he had kids, so it creaks with every small step. I'm at college now, away from my family and our creaky house. They don't hear music playing from my room, or the steps creaking as I walk down the steps at 9 am. I picture the house as a little sad since I left, and my family inside missing the fourth creaks-maker. I miss them. Maddie Curtin, Fall 2019 |
overgrowing tendrils |
you and I Morgan Bode (5) |
dusty scrapbook Madeline Wilson (5) I enjoy this haiku for many reasons. Overall this haiku causes me to imagine someone who once was extremely invested in a relationship, so much that they made a scrapbook for all the memories. However, this relationship slips and the person no longer cares about any of these memories, or this person. In addition, I like the line split between “don’t” and “quite.” this second line ending with “don’t” allows the reader to quickly think of many possible resolutions to this haiku, when the third line jumps out and states that the scrapbook and echoes of the song are irrelevant now. Tori Stuart, Fall 2019 This picture takes me back to sitting on the floor in front of the stairs in my house with my mom. We have scrapbooks and photo albums in bookcases that my mom put together over the years, and every few years we end up pulling them out and looking through them. A lot of what is in the books I cannot remember well, it brings back an echo of the memory, but there are details missing for me, and my mom can usually fill them in. Alexander Bergland, Fall 2019 |
. . . even Holden Caufield |
the sky gently captures the smoke |
oak tree. Joel Ochoa (5) This haiku is very powerful because in order to see how many rings there are in a tree you must kill the tree. So this haiku makes me think about how people get so curious or caught up in trying to figure something out about a person they end up killing a perfectly healthy and beautiful relationship trying to find what they are looking for. It also reminds me of how humans are naturally curious, yet our curiosities can be reckless and cause damage to nature and other beautiful aspects of the world. Jessi Kreder, Fall 2019 Rings tell a story of the life of a tree. From the rings you can tell its age, the speed of its growth, which years there were draughts or fire, and the health of the tree. But you have to kill the tree to see the story. It is a beautiful tragedy. I also like the use of the period after oak tree. It is a statement, the oak tree is simple and complex, it is an entire thought in and of itself. It is common, we have seen thousands of them, but each is unique in its own way. Alexander Bergland, Fall 2019 |
a long walk at night Cassandra Reed I like this poem just because of how relaxed it makes me feel when I read it. I do not normally walk at night to clear my mind but this person does this regularly which is good so they can calm themselves down. I wonder why this person has a full mind though either from school or some other activity they are participating in. I hope this person finds their stability within to keep pushing forward and working hard and enjoying life. Michael Hoelting, Fall 2019 |
red light. Madeline Wilson (12) I really liked the punctuation in this haiku. It represented exactly what a stoplight does. It gives time, and then it cuts you off and you must keep moving. During the stopped time my mind is always wondering about my life. Sometimes I don’t even remember yielding to cars or getting the green turn arrow because while I was at the light my mind had begun to drift. I remember especially thinking about soccer games at the red light coming out of my school on my way home. It always could have been different, there are so many little moments that change the game. Overall, this haiku made me recall a specific feeling or thought and that is what almost all good haiku seem to do. Jon Kuebler, Fall 2019 |
summer’s final cicadas Madeline Wilson (8) I enjoy this haiku because it feels effortless, and yet I can tell that there is so much effort put into the word choice. This poem seems to be about the transition from summer to fall. The choice of imagery is perfect for the story. I feel as if I am there, listening to the chirping of the insects and watching a leaf twirl in the wind. I love imagery more than anything, and this language is immersive without being "in-your-face." Rebecca Jaffe, Fall 2019 |
his hand swings by his side Madeline Wilson (4) |
I knew it was true Meghan Hayes (5) This was my favorite haiku from Kukai session two. The way the first and last lines rhymed was incredible. It definitely made me think back to daydreaming while driving in the car. There is always certain songs that make you think about your significant other and when those come on in the car you become instantly happier. That feeling is what this haiku reminded me of. I also really liked the way that true can be interpreted as true love. Jon Kuebler, Fall 2019 |
flour falls Meghan Hayes (3) |
doors held open Meghan Hayes (6) |
yearning wail of the oboe “a” Morgan Bode (4) |
intoxicated |
Alexander Bergland (6) |
in the trees |
twist . . . Charlize Pate (4) Every once in a while one is reminded of the uncertainties that mars one's life. An innocent slip, an unforeseen disaster, or an unwelcome disease, many such glitches in the matrix are sometimes well enough to terribly hurt us. A wrong landing for a ballerina, a wrong hit for a quarterback, or a wrong day to be outside, sometimes fate wrongs us in many a ways unexpectedly and ruthlessly. This haiku is a messenger of that grim reminder. Nawaj KC, Fall 2019 |
in my shoe Charlize Pate (6) This haiku seemed lighthearted to me at first, however I started to see a different side to it. At first glance, the haiku has a nice rhythm with short lines which I enjoyed. The second line only consisting of “a pebble” allows the reader to imagine the next line with a few options. The person walking could stop and get the pebble out or continue walking. I found a deeper meaning to this haiku, seeing the pebble in the writer’s shoes as a symbol for obstacles in one’s life. We all have the option to put in effort to rid problems out of our lives, or instead of putting in this effort, continue with each day allowing this obstacle to affect us as we “hobble on.” I am not sure what the author’s intention was regarding symbolism, but I viewed the pebble to hinder the person walking, when they could easily stop and remove the pebble; this is very similar to people allowing obstacles to hinder their lives, when they should work to conquer that obstacle. Tori Stuart, Fall 2019 |
field of green Jonathan Kuebler (5) Van Gogh received hope from his sunflowers. He loved sunflowers, they grew outside his window at the mental institution he stayed at, and he painted a whole hopeful series of them during his healthiest and happiest time of his life. Personally, I struggle with depression and anxiety, and my boyfriend gives me hope every day. When we started dating I asked what his favorite flower was, and he said a sunflower. I call him my sunflower now (don't tell him I told you). But he gives me hope and happiness when I think there is none to be found anywhere. With this poem, I picture a sea of people, and it's at the end of a long day, and I see his face. Suddenly, everything's fine. Maddie Curtin, Fall 2019 |
clicks and clacks Alexander Bergland I think this haiku may have mastered sensory imagery, and its hard not to appreciate it for that. The onomatopoeia within the haiku perfectly depicts the sensation of riding on a scooter or skateboard down a rough sidewalk or road. Not only are they the right works, but the repeating “c” and “k” sounds give the haiku a rough and jagged feel that would match the experience. Not only can I hear this activity taking place, but I can almost feel the sensation of running over a crack in my teeth as I read the haiku. The inclusion of “broken backs” is not only a clever reference to a common saying, but you can also imagine the mental state of the mother of who ever is riding their scooter. She is probably worried about the safety of their child where ever they are. Ben Kuxmann, Fall 2019 |
swing set and slides Jonathan Kuebler (3) |
a bird’s song Jonathan Kuebler I really liked this haiku for two reasons. The first is the story it tells. It starts out with something fairly normal, then someone tries something that’s a little silly. It did not work, but they tried it and the worst thing that happened was nothing. The second thing I liked, is that it can be read from the point of view of a bird too. Bird songs are tools for attracting a mate. One sings, then another, and then they are communicating. It’s like putting out an ad for a date and then getting no reply after you respond to it. Charlize Pate, Fall 2019 |
the gentle breeze Joel Ochoa (4) |
fly caught Madeline Curtin I like this haiku because I often find myself having the same thought which is presented here. I love bugs, perhaps to a problematic extent (I once cried because I accidently stepped on a cricket.) The voice in this is almost God-like, a human observer so distant from the insect world questioning the confused motives of a little fly. What spiders’ webs do we find ourselves caught in? I like the connection to the very human emotions of “oops.” Sometimes we, like flies, have no plan. Morgan Bode, Fall 2019 |
crescent moon Madeline Curtin (5) |
static Madeline Curtin (5) I really love this one and I did talk about it a bit in class. I just can picture myself there on the phone with someone that I love and it is an awkward silence and all you can hear is the white noise from the phone. I think that that is so powerful because in that moment that person seems so far out of reach. It just seems like they are even farther than they were before. I was in a long distance relationship last semester and it was very hard. Having phone calls like this hurt so much because I so badly didn't want to drift away from that person but it just happened. Sometimes drifting from people just cannot be controlled. Cassie Reed, fall 2019 |
sunshine Joel Ochoa (4) This haiku invokes a beautiful imagery. It's early in the morning and the sun is slowly rising up the horizon. One is lying on his bed groggy and finds himself aware of these stripes of sunlight piercing through the curtains. One is then reminded of the day that thus lies ahead. Nawaj KC, Fall 2019 |
my pocket |
two hands Benjamin Kuxmann (9) The use of the different ways to say “to” to start each line of this haiku was really neat. It brought each line together, but also kept them different in the own way. Just like when two hands are together, they the same, but different. I was especially fond of the last line “to not be one”. I really thought it complete the poem and it gave me this belief that when couples are holding hands, they really are one. That idea had never occurred to me before. Jon Kuebler, Fall 2019
|
sunlight falls |
the chill of late September Gillian Genardo (6) This poem is interesting because without the first line of this haiku the poem would have a different meaning. Aphrodite had a few different fruits associated with her including pomegranates but with the first line it assures us that the author is talking about apples. And I enjoy this imagery of picking apples on an apple farm because that was such a fond memory of my childhood that I loved. I also love the feeling I get when I read this poem because you can feel the cool breeze that this poem is speaking of at the beginning. Michael Hoelting, Fall 2019 |
a jagged sidewalk |
nonchalant stream |
day break Gillian Genardo (4) |
I cannot Rebecca Jaffe This poem just makes me really happy. I love music and I find myself always moving when I hear it. I am always tapping a foot or just singing a little melody in my head. Music has always been a large part of my life. My family is a very musical family and I grew up learning the guitar from my grandpa. I think about all the times we used to play together or the times I used to sing with my mom in the car. Music has always been that thing that I can go back to to destress me. I just always find comfort in a familiar song or melody. Music has also been a way that I could express myself. I found it easy to be me through song. That is why I enjoy this poem so much just because I enjoy music so much. Cassie Reed, fall 2019 I really like this one because of how extremely simple it is. There is an art to simplistic haiku’s and this one has a lot of potential to be phenomenal. I also really love this one because it’s basically me. Every time I hear music, I always move in some, way, shape, or form. This haiku captures a lot of people’s personality and I think this one should be birthed because of it. John DeAngelo, Fall 2019 |
every single word Meghan Hayes (7) I think we all have that one person in our lives that gives the best advice. They always just seem to know exactly it is that you need to hear. You could ask ten people for their advice and it could be exactly the same advice that was given by that person but you’ll only listen specifically to what that person says. For some people that person could be one of their parents, a grandparent, or maybe even a best friend. For me, that person is my sister, Allison. I go to Allison for any piece of advice that I ever need. We’re seventeen months apart and we’ve always gone to each other for everything. I will take her advice over anyone else’s day after day. When I read this haiku, my sister was the first person that came to mind. She always knows the perfect thing to say that will help me out. I also just think this haiku is especially beautiful. Knowing that there’s a specific person who can always make you feel better is an amazing feeling. I feel at peace when I read this haiku. Gillian Genardo, Fall 2019 |
a simple look Victoria Stuart (4) |
little sprites |
a heavy downpour Nawaj KC (8) |
overturned log |
on father’s feet Elizabeth Napier (7) The music hums low and I almost do not even hear the music because we’ve listened to it so many times it becomes habitual. My father always looks over to our family when he turns it on and tells us about the way his family would always listen to this music as his smile grows warm and distant. He quickly snaps out of it and takes my mother’s hand, swings her around the small, warm living room. She falls back into the couch laughing and before I know it, I am also up and dancing with my father. I am not as graceful as my mother, but dad picks up the slack, guides me to and fro across the creaking floor. Our heads tilt back and open up to the sky, laughing and vulnerable. Time slows in this moment, now a distant memory. I thank Lizzie for bringing this deeply buried memory to life in ten words. Madeline Wilson, Fall 2019 |
ear pressed to the floor Elizabeth Napier This haiku reminded me specifically of one of my roommates. While she doesn’t literally press her ear to the floor, she tends to listen to other people’s music in our apartment more than her own. Often times it drifts through the thin walls or sometimes it’s because I am playing music. One time the neighbors were playing Hannah Montana and it was such a throwback she almost went and told them to put it back on when they stopped playing it. In a more general sense, this haiku made me think of hearing a good song and being unable to discover what it is. I also assume the author has more polite neighbors with better music tastes than mine do. Charlize Pate, Fall 2019 |
kayak companion Randy Brooks (3) |
the grimy floor |
there is a line Charlize Pate (6) |
one foot |
if only you were here Cassandra Reed This one hit me right in the feels when I was reading it. I pictured the stars and the special sights that only come at night. The stars are personally my favorite part about nature and I love going stargazing with other people, especially my best friend back home. The first thing this poem made me think was that the special person died which is quite sad to think about. The other way I read this after reading it a couple times was that the person who they wanted to watch the night sky with couldn't be there because of distance or something, which is something I can relate to very much. I just really enjoyed this poem and even though it made me a little sad, I thought it was beautiful and reminded me of great moments I've had watching the night sky with some of my favorite people over the years. Joel Ochoa, Fall 2019 |
the sky Cassandra Reed (5) This haiku interests me because there are many ways in which a person could interpret the meaning of the poem. I wonder if the person in this poem simply enjoys the ever-present company of the sky, or if they do not have other friends to have confidential conversation with. Also, what are things that you would want to share with the sky, and can the sky respond? It’s difficult to picture the sky responding in any way to a person as any good friend would be doing. With this in mind, the poet still sees the sky as a friend. This is what makes the haiku interesting to me. I want to understand the dynamic between a person and a sky and what deeper meaning that shows. Ben Kuxmann, Fall 2019 |
i love my friends Cassandra Reed (9) I think I spent the entirety of last year staying up and hanging out with my friends and then doing my homework after they went to bed. I did not sleep. I would have a plan to get it done, then someone would suggest Dairy Queen, or a Walmart run and, as the indecisive person I am, I would go along with them because the option was there. I really like the use of “but” here. The second statement in no way actually contradicts the first part of the haiku, but it implies a certain amount of exhaustion. Charlize Pate, Fall 2019 |
unexpected wisdom Alexander Bergland In this haiku I always wonder who is giving this advice either a father, brother, family member, or even a friend. I love how they end it with press on something so tough and meaningful after the description of a military member in the second line. I feel many people do not believe that people in the military can be thoughtful but here it shows that this individual in the military is trying their hardest to make the person feel better in some way. This poem just makes me want to keep fighting through whatever problem arises in the near future. Michael Hoelting, Fall 2019 Though mysterious, this poem invokes a lot of emotions. I feel that in college, students put a lot of stock into the opinions of professors, doctors, and intellectuals generally. While I do this, and think it’s good, I think it is also good not to discount the wisdom which can be provided by diverse backgrounds outside academia. The respect for “unexpected wisdom” from someone hardened perhaps by military service is a great example of this. I assume the final line to be what the author took from the wise person, a lesson to continue to work hard in the face of difficulties. I also enjoy the repeated syllable “un” and think it adds a lot to the feeling of this haiku. Morgan Bode, Fall 2019 |
the creek gurgles Alexander Bergland (8) |
double rainbow Alexander Bergland (6) |
Gillian Genardo |
Gillian Genardo |
Gillian Genardo |
Gillian Genardo |
© 2019, Randy Brooks • Millikin University
All rights returned to authors upon publication.
