Haiku Kukai 06 names
Global Haiku • Millikin University • Fall 2020
1 back to breath |
2 crow on a wire fence Mara Currens ••••• 5 I love poem #2 because it reminds me of one of my favorite movies: Alfred Hitchcock's The Birds. Specifically, the scene in that movie where all of the crows are perched on the playground ominously staring at the protagonists. Whenever I walk past a flock of crows I think of this scene. While this poem does not indicate many birds, it has the same energy to me. Birds just watching you, laughing, aware of something you are not. This must be a common fear, and one that I am delighted that another person has observed as well. Sophia Zinger, Fall 2020 |
3 skinned hands Mara Currens •• This haiku brought back a lot of memories of learning to ride a bike and still falling off a lot even after you were kind of good at it. My neighbors and I are all around the same ages, so we spent a lot of time riding our bikes together in the summer. One of them liked making bad decisions, and he would stop right in front of where someone else was going, so we swerved into the grass or our gardens and skinned a lot of hands and knees. I like that this haiku makes the trip into mom's garden seem purposeful—“bike ride” gives me the image of a purposeful journey, so when the line continues with “into mom's garden,” it reminds me of a kid saying “I mean to do that!” Maggie Kusar, Fall 2020 |
4 storied stones Stark Winter • |
5 she lifts her mask Stark Winter •• |
6 remote control— Binny Tamang •••• This haiku made me think of siblings fighting over the remote control. The sister had been watching a movie, and she's had the remote for a while. Her brother comes in asking for it because she's had it for a long time and he wants to watch something else. She doesn't want to get up, so she tells him to get her a glass of water and then she'll give him the remote. He doesn't think she'll actually give it to him, so he refuses, telling her he's not her servant. I liked the use of the word “fetch” because it really captured the dramatics of siblings saying “fetch me a glass of water” and other stupidly formal things just to mess with each other. Maggie Kusar, Fall 2020 Poem #6 drew me in because of the way it begins. My twin brother and I watch television together a lot and the remote control is a common theme. We are either fighting over it, using it to change the channel, or looking for it. When we were little, I remember distinctly that he was the one who always knew how to work the remote control. He's better at technology than I am. I can just imagine us, sitting there watching television, and me sooner or later getting thirst and asking if he can get up and grab me a glass of water. That is such a common request among families, during such a common activity. I think this moment was captured quite nicely in this haiku. Sophia Zinger, Fall 2020 This haiku reminds me of my siblings, especially when we were younger. I picture the two siblings sitting on the couch. The brother has the remote in his hand up until his sibling asks him for a favor. As soon as he's gone, so is his control over the television. Me and my siblings were the same way, always fighting over who got to hold the remote. Things were simpler back then and I this haiku makes me miss that. Sydney Griggs, Fall 2020 |
7 hawk overhead Stark Winter •• |
8 grave fireflies Binny Tamang ••••• •• 7 (2nd) I wrote a haiku that sort of touches on the same topic that this one does: that a person's personality can be symbolized by their soul—that our souls are what make us who we are—and our bodies are simply the vessels that carry us through this life. Once a person dies, the only thing that is left behind is the body that housed their soul during this lifetime. Their soul is set free and they are no longer the person we knew and loved when they were alive. It's kind of interesting to think about where that soul might go after it is set free, though, and that's why I like the image of fireflies flying around graves at the start of the haiku—they might as well be the souls of the people we once knew and loved. Bryn Sentnor, Fall 2020 |
9 before cellphones Binny Tamang ••••• •• 7 (2nd) This brought me back to my fifth grade math class, where we were learning pre-algebra (I think). The math was mediocre, I've never loved doing it. But what I did love about that class was the concentration of friends that I had there. We would spend all period chatting if we could, without writing a single number. Of course, our teacher (who I still count as one of the best I've ever had) would keep us on task, doing our classwork. Little did she know that the calculator we had been required to buy for the class allowed us to text, oh-so-sneakily, then pass the message on to whoever we were sitting next to. In retrospect, our teacher knew. But she let us do it, s l o w l y, because we were still “on task.” Stark Winter, Fall 2020 |
10 park walk Rebecca Murphy • |
11 sitting on the porch Rebecca Murphy • I really like this haiku because it really speaks to human resiliency. It is really easy to see humanity as a flaming dumpster fire right now, but even with everything going on, we have these moments of human to human interaction that makes everything better. There is an old saying that we are all in the same boat. I think the better way to put it is that we are all in our own boats trying to ride out the same storm. We are all dealing with COVID-19 right now, but some of us are more fortunate than others when it comes to assets and resources. Sometimes, we manage to anchor ourselves near another boat, just long enough to have a conversation on a porch. Kyle Jordan, Fall 2020 |
12 divorce Sadie Scott ••••• •• 7 (2nd) There is a song by Jon Bellion titled “Morning in America” that this haiku reminds me of. The whole message of the song is that everybody has family secrets and skeletons in closets, yet everyone puts on a face and keeps pretending so that other people won't see. I feel like this poem reflects that. This perfect plastic house full of perfect plastic people is just not as perfect as they try to make themselves seem. There are no perfect people and there are no perfect families. I really like the way this poem also has a pretty strong twist in the third line. When first reading this, the first two lines flow as one thought because divorce is almost always a heavy topic, but when you read the last line it shifts and gives a new perspective. To me, this poem feels like glass breaking. Kyle Jordan, Fall 2020 |
13 playing one-sided Rebecca Murphy •••• ••• 8 (1st) I really enjoyed this haiku. I also find it funny in the sense that when we play with animals in general, they probably have no idea what we are doing. But I took this haiku to mean a squirrel is playing hide-and-seek with us as opposed to us playing with animals. In fact, I do feel like the squirrels are watching me when I see one and they are almost everywhere. It reminds me of an episode in Rick and Morty where the squirrels are actually planning world domination in secret. Good one. Binny Tamang, Fall 2020 Because the squirrels at Millikin are all crackheads and have no fear of humans whatsoever, I'm able to get really close to them and see their faces and furry little bodies in great detail, so I had quite a vivid image come to mind when reading this haiku. I imagined a vast backyard—not unlike my own at home—and a little kid chasing after a normal squirrel that does actually fear humans and trying to find where it's hiding. I enjoyed the youthfulness and innocence of this haiku a lot. Bryn Sentnor, Fall 2020 This haiku is really funny. I imagined a kid funning away from a playground to chase the squirrel. The kid thinks he is playing a game with the squirrel, but really he is probably just bothering the squirrel more than anything. The squirrel is trying to find acorns and hide them for the winter and the kid just keeps following it around. Comparing it to hide-and-seek is such a clever way of putting it as kids often compare things they don't know to what they do, so maybe this kid is too young to understand what it is to chase something and has made this comparison instead. Danica Brezovar, Fall 2020 I loved the playfulness of this haiku. This is something that I find myself doing anytime I am walking in a grassy area with squirrels around. There is a peacefulness within a one-sided stare off with a being that only thinks about finding and burying food. Squirrels are some of the most entertaining things to watch, and I can't help but follow them with my eyes as I pass by. Emily Kemp, Fall 2020 |
14 looking glass |
15 the boy Sadie Scott • |
16 best friends Micky McNaughton • |
17 running home Micky McNaughton • This haiku resonates extremely strongly with me. I go to school from out of state, so there's already a fair bit of distance between where I call home and where my actual home is. I imagined this as someone coming home after a very long trip or period of time away, and not realizing how much you actually missed their company until that distance starts to minimize. As the hours and miles shrink, the pulse beats faster until you notice you're in the triple digits of MPH on the highway. Grant Unruh, Fall 2020 |
18 podcast in one ear Micky McNaughton •• |
19 The World Danica Brezovar •••• I like this poem because when I read it, I think about how foolish it is to miss a toxic connection. The world is “darker” without your “shadow”. A shadow in itself is something that blocks light, so it doesn't make sense why a world dark world would benefit from a shadow, and that's the point, to me at least. We shouldn't look for light in dark places. Sadie Scott, Fall 2020 |
20 fleeting sunlight Sydney Griggs • This is a haiku I wanted to bring up in class but never got to. I love the play between the breaking of the night (from the fleeting sunlight) to the breaking of the window. This haiku is also very on-brand for me since I adore haikus about pining or angst. I picture this circumstance as a young lover throwing rocks at their crush's window after a fight, trying to get them to pick up their phone. One too many rocks makes the window break, and then the girl storms down to the backyard and gives her pursuer a piece of her mind. It all ends in happiness and sweetness, though. I just love the shenanigans of young love. This haiku captures it perfectly. |
21 a metronome Danica Brezovar •• I'm not quite sure how to explain it but this haiku reminds me of the presentation we did in class, emphasizing the importance of silence in haiku. This entire piece feels silent. I hold my breath while reading it. I just picture two people in a room hugging, the ticking of a clock in the background. The imagery is simple but incredibly effective because this piece has stuck with me since I first read it. Sydney Griggs, Fall 2020 |
22 somewhere Sydney Griggs • |
23 not really gone Danica Brezovar • |
24 sleepless night Sydney Griggs ••• |
25 angel at the Gwen Klinkey • |
26 unconventional date Maggie Kusar • |
27 lilac blossoms . . . Maggie Kusar •• We have lilac bushes outside our house and my mom and I love the smell, my dad hates it. I also love to go out in the rain with just a bathing suit bottom and a t-shirt and lay on my driveway while it's raining in the summer. Our lilac bushes always lose a lot of flowers when it rains and they scatter all over our front walk. When I go inside I'll be freezing and dripping wet so I'll sprint to my room and dry off and put on a sweatshirt and sweatpants and lay with my dogs on the couch watching a movie or something and listening to the rain as I “accidentally” take a nap. Gwen Klinkey, Fall 2020 I was looking through the Kukai to see what haiku I wanted to talk about and then I re-read this one and realized that it didn't get the recognition from me it deserved. I for one love lilacs and know that they symbolize renewal and confidence into the future, which is why it's often at weddings and grad parties. Then in that way, the rain on the rooftop shingles could be the dreariness of today, the mundane and the dark. But I assume that the author didn't think too much into that. I just love the feeling of silence on a rainy day, focusing on my beloved flowers. Also, great word choice to convey the soft feeling and sound of the rain. |
28 photo with a Gwen Klinkey • |
29 Wanted: non-feminist Gwen Klinkey ••• |
30 bedazzled skull Maggie Kusar • |
31 shadows in the window Kyle Jordan •• |
32 starry night sky Bryn Sentnor •• |
33 fallen autumn leaves Bryn Sentnor •••• This is one of my favorites because I lost a friend of mine to suicide, and I dedicated a song to him called autumn leaves. It's made me associate fallen leaves with him, and to read this poem makes me smile. The leaves aren't alive, I know that, but for a moment they dance when the wind sweeps them up. It almost like they get a second chance for a split second. Sadie Scott, Fall 2020 |
34 my brother's trip Kyle Jordan • I really enjoyed reading this haiku because it instantly reminded me of the time that my family and I went with my little brother to the train museum when he was about 6 years old. Trains were his absolute favorite at the time and I have never seen him light up with joy quite like he did that day. He wanted to ride every single train and blow every whistle and talk to every conductor that he could and it was the most adorable thing ever. He also had a Thomas the Tank Engine themed birthday party that year. That was one of the best years and seeing him that happy made me happier than I could ever put into words. Nicole Dadoly, Fall 2020 |
35 Great Expectations Kyle Jordan • There's a line from a song I really enjoy that echoes this sentiment - “you know what they say about guys with big shoes/insecurities and self-esteem issues.” As someone who feels a fair amount of pressure to succeed and do well, it's frustrating to realize that all of these constraints we put upon ourselves are, a lot of times, our own doing. Nobody's asking me to be juggling seventeen different activities for seventeen different people at once - so why do I feel the need to live up to that? |
36 he tells me he's Bryn Sentnor ••• |
37 so much time Grant Unruh •• It's a terrifying thought to picture living a life that disappoints. To go years and years without being happy. You only get one chance at life, that's it. I have so much fear about wasting mine, that I end up wasting it worrying. We have to spend so much of our life in school doing assignments we don't want to, working jobs we don't like, being around people who might hurt us. It's necessary, but it's sad we can't spend our whole lives living only for us. Sadie Scott, Fall 2020 |
38 the crow calls |
39 space scientist— Adrian Sanchez Rodriguez ••••• • 6 (3rd) Poem #39 spoke to me primarily because of its dim and frank outlook on our current society. It spoke with bluntness in saying that “Earth is kinda fucked.” Yes, author of this poem, I agree. There is honestly no better way I could have put it myself. In addition to this honest depiction of our current state of affairs, I really liked the way the author put it into a bird's eye view, extraterrestrial perspective. I imagine the space scientist (alien?) of this poem hovering above Earth, unable to tell that it is really hurting from that far away. And then getting a warning signal of some kind not to come down. Such a cool image. Sophia Zinger, Fall 2020 |
40 broken AC Adrian Sanchez Rodriguez ••••• I cannot stop thinking about this haiku. Maybe it just hits me on a really personal level, but it hits hard. Growing up in a competitive dance studio where ballet was a focus, body image issues were bound to bubble up. You are required to wear skin-tight clothes - tights and a leotard. You stand facing a wall of mirrors. I love the art of dance and mirrors are really helpful when learning. However, the pain that I felt as a child being compared to bodies so much more “perfect” than mine took its toll. Even in the summer I avidly avoid wearing shorts. I am most comfortable in a long skirt and a sweater. When the heat of summer hits and the AC breaks down, I hide from myself, like many others do, because the fear of hating what you see is crippling. In so few words, I am reminded that no one who faces body image issues is alone. Micky McNaughton, Fall 2020 |
41 wild west |
42 somehow, somewhere Grant Unruh ••••• • 6 (3rd) |
43 the blood of Christ Mara Currens ••••• •• 7 (2nd) Speaking as someone who used to be religious but is not anymore, this haiku made me laugh. This observation in particular was something I'd always noticed about the communion process but never had the heart to question for fear of being labeled as sacrilegious. Whether that would happen or not, it calls into question the strange things that are used as representations of spirituality and why they all seem to be so benign and random at times. The question of “who came up with the whole grape juice/wine and bread thing” I feel wouldn't get a direct answer, no matter what clergyman or pastor I'd talk to. Sometimes, tradition and the “way” is just too much, I guess. Grant Unruh, Fall 2020 |
44 old soup pot Mara Currens •• This haiku created incredible smell imagery for me. I love to eat chicken and dumplings soup on cold days, and I used to eat it more as a kid. When I had a snow day it always meant spending time with my mother and siblings. We would eat warm food, drink hot chocolate, and go sledding. I love that the smell of chicken and dumplings soup can bring back those memories for me. I also love that this haiku captured that feeling of warmth and nostalgia so spectacularly. Rebecca Murphy, Fall 2020 |
45 One Direction poster Gwen Klinkey • This haiku made me extremely happy to read especially because I was so surprised to see One Direction be involved in anything school related. I was a HUGE One Direction fan back in middle school and I even had a semi-famous One Direction Instagram Fanpage with 1,000 followers. For a 12 year old, that is pretty impressive. This haiku specifically reminded me of a particular friend of mine that at one time had every inch of her walls covered in One Direction posters. I definitely had some posters of my own, but nobody's poster wall compared to that incredible display of obsession and fandom. Nicole Dadoly, Fall 2020 |
46 butterfly rests on a stone Gwen Klinkey •••• This haiku also produced a vivid image in my mind. I can see a beautiful monarch butterfly with its majestic but fragile, orange-and-black wings resting on a rock. A little boy standing nearby is staring at the butterfly, in awe of its beauty, and reaches out to touch it. The child's mother reaches her arm out and places it on her son's shoulder, telling him to be careful because butterflies are fragile creatures. Bryn Sentnor, Fall 2020 |
47 setting the mood Gwen Klinkey •• A year ago, I would have no idea what a love dart was. I think I was better off then, honestly. Since quarantine started, though, I've been keeping snails as pets. And as any snail owner can tell you, keeping snails is practically synonymous with breeding snails. They just love each other very much, I guess. This haiku reminds me of the first month or so after I got my shelled friends: I would check on them late in the evening, replace their lettuce, then notice that in the fading sunlight, two of them would be getting it on. I know they're snails, and that they literally don't even have a brain, but I still felt awkward about walking in on them! And there I was, giving them (quite literally) a dinner and a show. Stark Winter, Fall 2020 |
48 ashes on Lake Street Mara Currens •• |
49 reeds whistle Stark Winter • |
50 blurry images |
51 rebellious grape Sadie Scott ••••• •• 7 (2nd) It wasn't until this haiku was read out loud that I got the pun, and for that reason I kind of feel disappointed in myself, but oh well. The first thing I thought of when reading this one was what I like to call a rollaway grape. You know, one of those grapes that drops on the floor and rolls away from you. I love that it ends in a pun which could one of a few things: that the grape is raising hell; that when grapes age, they eventually shrivel up and turn into raisins; or, that because the grape is rebellious, it's going to raisin hell. I love it. Bryn Sentnor, Fall 2020 I love the play on words within this adorable haiku but I especially love the contrast between the rebellion that the grape endures and the support for the grape turing into a raisin with all of the rebellion. It is a cute play on the phrase “raising hell” and I love how it almost tricks my brain to change it to what I would expect the phrase to be. Rebellion is usually not met with support either so I like the change in emotion throughout the haiku to explain how this grape went through a lot of changes to get to where it is now in it's “raisin hell” stage. Nicole Dadoly, Fall 2020 |
52 dropped at the door Stark Winter • The rawness of this haiku is what really drew me in, this was definitely a favorite from this kukai. That feeling of inescapable sadness that takes over someone's entire body is something that I can, unfortunately, relate to. But the part that made this such an outstanding poem was the last line. There is something almost comforting about focusing all the pent-up despair into a t-shirt and imaging creating art out of such a low place. It definitely feels exactly like this sometimes. Emily Kemp, Fall 2020 |
53 pines snapped in two
|
54 Newsflash Garfield Sadie Scott • |
55 toy jail Maggie Kusar • |
56 shooting stars Binny Tamang ••••• • |
57 dandelion nemesis of fireflies |
58 Christmastime Maggie Kusar ••• I am so very ready for Christmas this year. This haiku speaks to me because I have a lot of fond memories helping my dad bake for the holidays. My dad would always take off from work the weekend before Christmas that he reserved for nothing but baking and wrapping presents. We would make ten or so batches of sugar cookies that my cousins and I would decorate together. We would also then make several flavored cookies, candies, and other desserts. We always have a 3' X 3' card table that we would pile high with boxes and boxes of Christmas cookies. It really did feel like my dad and I had created an army of gingerbread men. Kyle Jordan, Fall 2020 |
59 broken hearts and Maggie Kusar •• |
60 her laugh Mara Curren ••••• |
61 big window Sophia Zinger •• |
62 river of anger Sydney Griggs ••• I really liked this haiku. I know there's no such thing as identifying oneself as a sleeper but I consider myself to be a sleeper. I think sleeping can remedy or nullify almost all our emotions. Of course not literally and completely but to some extent. When I feel upset my go-to activity is to take a nap and just forget about it for a while. It sounds like it's not healthy or we are just running away from our problems but I think it gives us more time to process why we are mad and reexamine our thoughts and feelings without being bias which is impossible to do when we are angry or filled with emotions. And this haiku sounds to me it agrees. Binny Tamang, Fall 2020 This haiku definitely felt all to real when I read it, especially the line about just sleeping off your rage. Whenever a day has gone so poorly that I am just brimming with anger, at the end of the night all I can accomplish is giving in and sleeping. Being so focused on things that upset me doesn't allow me to think about anything else. So, I completely understand the feeling of anger dissipating over time and leaving an exhausted shell in its place. Emily Kemp, Fall 2020 |
63 art fair Mara Currens ••••• 5 Every year my town has Sculpture in the Park which is in the same park that my dad's shop is in. We used to go a lot when I was little and the sculptures stay year round or until someone buys them. You can always tell which ones are favorites by the crowds gathering around them. Normally the artist stands next to their work and answers different questions and talks to the people that come to look. I know it's not the same as a portrait, but that's what this haiku reminded me of. Gwen Klinkey, Fall 2020 When I read this haiku I imagined a beautiful summer day full of movement and sun. I was in Forest Park in Saint Louis, walking up and down hills to see beautiful art. There are all varieties, but there is one that sticks out: a brightly colored portrait of a woman. People are drawn to the color and vibrancy so I follow and spend some time in front of the portrait letting it affect me. I love art and have many friends who are artists so I also imagine one of my friends as the artist and being able to look up at her with pride and joy for her hard work. Rebecca Murphy, Fall 2020 |
64 birds chirping— Binny Tamang ••••• • 6 (3rd) This haiku is so clever. The usage of the word turns to connect the two lines and give it a double meaning was so smart. I loved this image as well. I remember the nights where I would just get lost in a book and end up finishing the book at the same time that the sun was rising and my parents were getting ready for work. I would have to quickly hide my book, turn out the light and pretend to be asleep so they wouldn't know that I was still awake reading. This haiku brought back that nice memory for me. Danica Brezovar, Fall 2020 The duality of this haiku allowed for great imagery. Over the summer I spent most of my days reading huge books until 6 o'clock in the morning. When I heard birds chirping I knew it was my cue to go to sleep. There was also a day when I stayed up so late that I just ended up going for a sunrise walk with my mother. This haiku made me think of those moments and the peace that they had. I miss being able to read for entertainment but this haiku provided solace for a brief moment. Rebecca Murphy, Fall 2020 |
65 abortion parking lot Mara Currens •••• |
66 rhythmic creaking Emily Kemp •• I related a lot to this haiku. I am often the last one awake in my house at night once all my family has gone to bed. We have a dog, the house settles, and at night, it sometimes sounds like someone is walking. I always stop to listen to figure out if it's a person, the dog, or the old house. I imagined a young teenaged boy up late in his room, and his character just died in whatever game he's playing. There's momentary silence in his headphones, and he's able to hear the noises in the house for a moment, a creaking. He stops to listen—it's the rocking chair down the hall, his mother is rocking in the chair, having gotten up to calm his baby sister in the middle of the night. It's peaceful, and then he goes back to his game. Maggie Kusar, Fall 2020 |
67 first date nerves Emily Kemp • |
68 correct Danica Brezovar • |
69 10th grade English class Mara Currens •••• |
70 She's seventy-five Kyle Jordan •• |
71 the darkness of space Sadie Scott • I find this haiku fascinating as well as exhilarating. Even the possibility of life on another planet or a galaxy sounds like fiction but we cannot be sure. Is it really? Science and technology have come so far as to send objects into outer space and this is just the start. And this haiku gives a glimpse of what if there are aliens out there. The space is so vast, and we might not be able to cross all the way but we might not be the only one trying to find life other than on our own planet. Binny Tamang, Fall 2020 |
72 holding hands Micky McNaughton • |
73 man-splaining Micky McNaughton ••••• This haiku has an almost senryu style, with only one thought continuing through its lines. However, despite the wry tone of the poem, the idea it showcases is true, and all too common. Mansplaining is the bane of my existence, and deeply annoys me on so many levels. You'd think that people might catch on to how condescending it is after a while, but sometimes the only way to get that hypocrisy across is to put a mirror in front of them. Stark Winter, Fall 2020 |
74 orange glow |
75 old man's Rebecca Murphy •• |
76 crush's bedroom Mara Currens •• |
77 my heart is out Maggie Kusar ••• I mentioned this in class, but it is the first specifically Irish reference that we've had in our Kukais, which made it my favorite. I also got a warm feeling of knowing that someone else shares this history with me. However, I look again at the haiku and realize that the author is referencing that she is single because of the position of her ring, yet her heart has a keeper. It's sad in that way, that her heart is out and the heart of her ring is also “out”. It's a juxtaposition of the meaning of the ring that is simply beautiful, yet melancholy. |
78 first kiss Mara Currens •• First kisses are gross. I see a young teenager who has this romanticized version of what a first kiss should be. It should be just like it is in the movies. Unfortunately, they get a rude awakening with a slobbery gross kiss. they have to act polite, but they are so happy that they can just run upstairs and scrub whatever monstrosity that was out of their mouth. Another way I read this is that the teenager is insecure, they get nervous after their first kiss and have to brush their teeth just to make themselves feel better. I also see someone dreaming about their first kiss, brushing their teeth and dreaming. I think this is such a wonderful haiku because every time I read it, I see something different. Micky McNaughton, Fall 2020 |
79 i love pizza |
80 attached to one another Gwen Klinkey •• |
81 I mean, fuck Amazon Gwen Klinkey • This haiku made me laugh out loud the first time I read it, and it still makes me chuckle. No matter how “good” we all try to be, we all have our weaknesses. For some people it's trying to be good about their lactose intolerance, but their favorite food is cheese. For others, it might be “fuck these corporations” but they have their favorite movie available. This haiku is such a lighthearted reminder that we are human. We can be as stubborn as we want, but we all do shitty things that contradict our morals. Micky McNaughton, Fall 2020 |
82 the world does not Binny Tamang •••• I really relate to this one, but seeing as I did not have the emotional capacity to date until this year (thanks brain for giving me issues <3) it more pertains to crushes with me. I often get carried away with my feelings and I am hopelessly in love for a couple weeks and then I'll remember that liking people is irrational and not helpful. My mom is always so worried about me, but I've told her a million times that I don't need anyone distracting me from getting the doctorates I want. Gwen Klinkey, Fall 2020 This haiku definitely makes me think of loss. Still, it does not feel like a sad or tragic loss. It feels relieving to me, like a weight has been lifted. Maybe the narrator finally has time for themselves. Maybe they can now focus on their dreams and ambitions and look inwards rather than out toward this other person. It may sound like loss, but I feel like so much more is learned and gained. I really like this piece; it makes me feel. Sydney Griggs, Fall 2020 |
83 I can taste Binny Tamang ••••• |
84 no Micky McNaughton ••• |
88 look left |
89 candy buffet |
90 tea light candles . . . Maggie Kusar • |
91 jack-o-lantern Sydney Griggs ••••• • 6 (3rd) This haiku gave me a whole bunch of different vibes that I enjoy equally. First, I thought of the obvious jack-o-lantern with a candle lit inside. Then I went spookier because of the like “the fire burning” made me think that this jack-o-lantern is evil and has a spooky plan set in motion. Lastly, I imagined this jack-o-lantern as a real person. I thought of a very fake guy who has carved out this nice guy persona to the outside world, but he really has bad intentions and is a manipulator because no one can see the fire that is behind the carved smile. Danica Brezovar, Fall 2020 |
92 orange faces Maggie Kusar • |
93 witches, ghouls, and vampires Bryn Sentnor •••• |
94 masked neighbor hiding |
95 knife in hand Stark Winter •• |
96 gourds my friend named Rebecca Murphy •• |
© 2020, Randy Brooks • Millikin University
All rights returned to authors upon publication.