every song
reminds me of her
the empty playlist

Binny Tamang

leap over piano keys
you make my heart
                      sing

Maggie Kusar

the soft violin
silence
breaks their gaze

Danica Brezovar

six months sober
from a love
so intoxicating.

Sadie Scott

leap over piano keys
you make my heart
                      sing

six months sober
from a love
so intoxicating.

six months sober
from a love
so intoxicating.

top quarter champion

TOP half Chamption

six months sober
from a love
so intoxicating.

bottom quarter champion

I wish I
could breathe you in
one more time

high school dance
couples dance
under dollar store lights

I wish I
could breathe you in
one more time

high school dance
couples dance
under dollar store lights

Rebecca Murphy

high school dance
our lips
               miss

Bryn Sentnor

radiation—
the taste of cherry
from his lips

Kyle Jordan

I wish I
could breathe you in
one more time

Emily Kemp

TOP half champion

six months sober
from a love
so intoxicating.

CHAMPION
 

love only costs
89 cents
he buys me a soda

love only costs
89 cents
he buys me a soda

BOTTOM half champion

love only costs
89 cents
he buys me a soda

Gwen Klinkey

he buys me dinner
drops me off
was that a date?

Micky McNaughton

we sit on the schoolbus
hand-in-hand
        sweating palms

Rebecca Murphy

spring rain
drawing hearts on
the car window

Sydney Griggs

love only costs
89 cents
he buys me a soda

love only costs
89 cents
he buys me a soda

top quarter champion

BOTTOM half champion

love only costs
89 cents
he buys me a soda

bottom quarter champion

I drive eight hours
he doesn't
kiss me

I drive eight hours
he doesn't
kiss me

the poster boy
walks past
to her

text on screen
long         distance
but dammit we're trying

Grant Unruh

I drive eight hours
he doesn't
kiss me

Mara Currens

first sweet slow dance
nothing sweet about how
he winks at her over my shoulder

Nicole Dadoly

the poster boy
walks past
to her

Danica Brezovar

every song
reminds me of her
the empty playlist

Binny Tamang

leap over piano keys
you make my heart
                      sing

Maggie Kusar

every song
reminds me of her
the empty playlist

Binny Tamang

six months sober
from a love
so intoxicating.

Sadie Scott

I love this haiku. There are songs that we attach to specific moments of our lives. Sometimes an old song will come on and it's like I get transported back to middle school. It's interesting and fun when the memories are happy ones, but songs that are attached to people that you no longer know or grew apart from are sometimes too sad to listen to. I think the last line sort of references that moment where we just delete all those songs in hopes of getting rid of the memories too. Sydney Griggs, Fall 2020 

This is another dose of my favorite haiku topic: angst. Although I've never been broken up with yet, I know the feeling of deep and utter heartache relating to wanting to love another person. These two haiku were my favorite of the matching contest and addressed that feeling perfectly. The first one, as I said over the Zoom meeting, alludes to the addictive nature of love, how it feels like you are sober when you finally get over that heartache. And yet Binny's haiku is still in the throws of needing someone. Although your thoughts can be difficult, they can be much better than hearing a song and being reminded of the way they hold you, the way they make you feel beautiful. The visual of the empty playlist is a strong one. Both of these haiku have strong imagery. Mara Currens, Fall 2020

leap over piano keys
you make my heart
                      sing

Maggie Kusar

six months sober
from a love
so intoxicating.

Sadie Scott

six months sober
from a love
so intoxicating.

Sadie Scott

I wish I
could breathe you in
one more time

Emily Kemp

I never would've imagined that these two would be side by side. One deals with the highs of being in love, while the other deals with the lows that seem impossible to overcome. Side by side, they almost are able to tell a story. Love and loss are really the only way a romance can go. If you don't stay in love, you break up. It's risky and hard, and yet we still do it. Sadie Scott, Fall 2020

These two haiku are interesting to me because, the way I perceive these, they are about another person that is intoxicating/addicting to the individual. Both of these poems seem to have at least a little bit of a desire for that person again. In the first one, the love of the other person is literally described as intoxicating, while the second one is less explicit in its meaning. I am really drawn to this juxtaposition of a generally positive trait or liking something, but it goes too far to the point it becomes negative. For example, alcohol or drug addiction, or an abusive relationship, or even the parable of the Icarus. Kyle Jordan, Fall 2020

I matched these haiku mainly for the fact that they are both about a relationship ending, or a person that is gone. However I also love the way that “breathe” works with “sober” and “intoxicating”. Both of these haiku give me chills but I think they pack a bigger punch together. The haikus are full of longing for a person or time that they can never get back. Rebecca Murphy, Fall 2020

high school dance
couples dance
under dollar store lights

Rebecca Murphy

high school dance
our lips
               miss

Bryn Sentnor

radiation—
the taste of cherry
from his lips

Kyle Jordan

I wish I
could breathe you in
one more time

Emily Kemp

This was my favorite pair because of the first look of total opposition. The first one is blatantly toxic with the opening of radiation. Paired with the first, the second becomes open to the possibility of toxicity. I've been in a toxic relationship. There were times where I would want to beg him to take me back and I knew the toxicity of the relationship was why I broke up with him in the first place. The story that comes out of the two of those haiku put together hurts me in a healing sort of way. The relationship ends and the grieving process begins - it is a good thing. Micky McNaughton, Fall 2020

Again, I find the juxtaposition of these two haiku really thought-provoking. One thing I noted was how each haiku seemed to be on different ends of the relationship life cycle, with the first being in the middle of a relationship. The second one, however, I figured could either be after a relationship or preceding a major change - the two members moving apart for various reasons, or one might be leaving for whatever reason. I loved the word choice in both, implying intimacy through parts of the body, tasting the cherry and breathing in their other partner. Both very nicely written. Grant Unruh, Fall 2020

love only costs
89 cents
he buys me a soda

Gwen Klinkey

he buys me dinner
drops me off
was that a date?

Micky McNaughton

we sit on the schoolbus
hand-in-hand
        sweating palms

Rebecca Murphy

spring rain
drawing hearts on
the car window

Sydney Griggs

People think about love in different ways. Sometimes there is an abyss between what two individuals believe. And sometimes it is clear who is in the dark and muddy end of the abyss. I feel a little bit of frustration in these two haiku. I don't know if the first author is stating that love means that for them, or if “he” messed up the definition and thinks that a soda will make the job. However, put next to each other, I imagine that it is the second case.  I also like how their structure is kind of mirrored; the first one ends by “him” buying something, and the second one starts with “him”, again, buying something. Adrian Sanchez Rodriguez, Fall 2020

I really like this pair because of how they represent both sides of love. The first one tells us how easy it is to fall in love, even the simplest gestures can evoke warm and fuzzy feelings inside of us. However, I guess the second one represents the idea that everything that falls breaks. And I also like how both the haiku tries to produce a tangible image of love like comparing love with alcoholism or just putting a monetary value on love, but the second imagery completely changes the tone of the haiku. Binny Tamang, Fall 2020

With the first haiku, I love the simplicity of the feeling it brings. Sometimes you don't need the grandest gesture of love—sometimes, it's the little things that matter the most. So someone could buy you a polar pop from the Circle K, and it would be the most meaningful thing in the world and bring butterflies to your stomach. With the second, I like how relatable it is. In the world today where people sometimes ask to “hang out” instead of asking specifically to “go on a date,” there's a lot of confusion and unasked questions because you don't want to be the person who assumes that the relationship is more than it is. As a matched pair, I like how much these two haiku contrast with each other. The first brings up something small and simple where the second paints a picture of something much grander, and yet buying a soda for someone is more clear in its declaration of love than dinner and driving them home. Maggie Kusar, Fall 2020

I love the simplicity of love in this haiku. It breaks down all the complexities we see in media relationships and focuses on how the smallest of things makes the world of a difference. We imagine grand gestures as the main way to show appreciation and love for someone because of many things including media. I love how much love and joy is elicited from such a small gesture that we take for granted from those we don't love but appreciate the most from those we do. It is a bare minimum type thing, but it still means a lot especially when it is unexpected. Danica Brezovar, Fall 2020

text on screen
long         distance
but dammit we're trying

Grant Unruh

I drive eight hours
he doesn't
kiss me

Mara Currens

first sweet slow dance
nothing sweet about how
he winks at her over my shoulder

Nicole Dadoly

the poster boy
walks past
to her

Danica Brezovar

he buys me dinner
drops me off
was that a date?

Micky McNaughton

I drive eight hours
he doesn't
kiss me

Mara Currens

I chose to pair these two together because I feel as if it tells a whole story from the beginning to the end of a relationship. I imagined a high school couple who were brought together by societal pressures rather than true feelings. For their first date they go out to eat for dinner, and although neither really felt anything they continued to date out of boredom. The relationship is one riddled with toxic communication and jealousy. By the end, they are both so emotionally exhausted from maintaining a failed relationship that on their final day together he doesn't even bother to kiss her. And that is how she knows, to some relief, that it is finally over. Emily Kemp, Fall 2020