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Innocence of Childhood: the Haiku of Randy Brooks
In the book School’s Out, published in 1999 by Press Here, Randy Brooks writes haiku that is reminiscent of his life. Renowned haiku author George Swede shares in the preface of this book that many of Brooks’ poems stem from his experiences as a boy growing up on a farm in Kansas. Although this is true, I can not help noticing the inspirations that are captured from the love of his family. Whether he is writing about time with his grandparents, the special bond with his wife or celebrating his children’s antics, his haiku celebrate life. I am inspired by the innocence of childhood and how generations interact with each other. For this reason, I wanted to see how Dr. Brooks captures the essence of family connections in his haiku while keeping the messages universal enough to put the reader into the verses.
It is not hard to see that Brooks has taken an active role in his duties as a father and husband. He is not an idle observer but someone who is not afraid to get in the midst of existence. He relishes every moment. Take for example the following haiku when breakfast was delayed to care for a sick child. If cleaning up vomit was not enough to spoil the thought of eating; soggy cereal surely was.
his vomit wiped up…
my bowl of wheaties
soggy now
Brooks, SO, 62
The image of vomit is very poignant. One can hear its sound, as well as, hear the splash of it hitting the floor. The smell of cleaning it up is enough to create a similar action. Then the soggy cereal comes into play. Although this leaves an unpleasant taste in the mouth, the tone of the verse brings sentimental memories to mind. What parents have not put life on hold to care for their children’s needs?
Brooks writes another example of the closeness between father and child:
rain at the window—
the newborn’s fingers
catch in my beard
Brooks, SO, 44
This conveys images of a man holding a newborn so close that warm breath is exchanged between them. The atmosphere of the haiku is now changed from the cold rain outside to the warmth and coziness inside. The vision of the child starring deeply into this man’s eyes also ends the coolness felt from the rain. The warmth of the heart is also felt through their closeness.
Raising children definitely has its ups and downs meshing the ugly with the good. Brooks’ keen sense of what is important in life turns what could be considered undesirable into a treasured memory. Some parents may not appreciate the unexpected find in this next haiku, but Brooks’ interpretation leaves a chuckle in the heart.
home from school,
he opens his lunch box
minnows
Brooks, SO, 28
Again, he has brought the outside indoors in this haiku. The minnows are no longer in the pond, but are now sitting on the kitchen counter. The smell of the minnows and pond water permeate through the cracks of the metal box. Will the box be able to be used for lunch again? I envision the shaking of the head of a very skeptical parent trying to hide the laughter waiting to burst out.
Dr. Brooks’ work also includes examples that put the reader across the room as an onlooker. The connection with youth is now present in an internal way. As with this next haiku, amazement warms the observer’s heart while watching the intensity of a child’s concentration:
each stroke of the crayon
his tongue
across his lips
Brooks, SO, 63
The child’s lips are wet, the room is quiet, and the crayon has a precise place to be. All of these visions shine through. Another example of standing back and watching what transpires is the following haiku:
big brother’s grin…
the last piece of the puzzle
out of his pocket
Brooks, SO, 75
Is the big brother proud that he foiled his siblings so that he could complete the puzzle in triumph; or is he wearing a cynical smile because he knew his siblings would be irritated after they discovered he was to blame for their fruitless scavenger hunt for the missing piece? Either way, it can be assumed that the siblings were not too happy at the time. As with most of Brooks’ work, I can imagine myself reminiscing on these bittersweet moments of childhood with affection.
Brooks is also a master of writing generational poems that link the past, present and future. These next two haiku demonstrate this expertise by bridging the now with what is surely to come:
long drive home…
our talk of the past goes
into the future
Brooks, SO, 98
our teenagers
on the whitewater raft…
I get go of the rope
Brooks, SO, 92
As with all families, there comes the time to say goodbye. Brooks celebrates these moments with as much passion as he does the new births he writes about. Although he allows his readers the freedom to experience the emotions personal to them, it appears Brooks, himself, understands and rejoices the natural progression of life. Not only do the haiku bring up feelings of longing for children not yet gone, but they stir the senses through the bumpiness of a long drive home, the sights and smells of the countryside, the feel of the cool spray from the rapids, and the sound of giggles from the children.
Another way that Brooks bridges the generation gap is by linking grandchildren to their grandparents.
grandpa’s cedar cane
my son poking holes
in a snow drift
Brooks, SO, 70
The grandchild is connected to the grandfather here, but the parent is also present. It is the parent’s son who is playing with the cane. Somehow there is a feeling that maybe that cane is a prized possession that was not meant to be poked in the snow. Regardless, the mustiness of old cedar, and the freshness of snow contrast beautifully. George Swede also reminisces about a connection between a grandfather and grandchild. In his book, Almost Unseen, published in 2000 by Brooks Books, Swede writes:
grandfather’s old boots
I take them
for a walk
Swede, AU, 62
Here Swede only connects two generations and leaves out the parent. There can be a stench in the old boots that would contrast with the freshness of the great outdoors, but Swede leaves it up to the reader to determine which senses will be inspired.
I enjoyed reading Dr. Brooks’ work because it captures the innocence of childhood in a positive light with warmth and tenderness. He is successful in compelling his readers to create their own imagery. When he ties together the people in his haiku, it is unclear if he is referring to himself as a sibling, the parent, the grandparent, the child or not referring to himself at all. Instead he has uses snippets of his life to guide his readers on a journey into the past to reflect on their own experiences.
Works Cited
Brooks, Randy M. (1999). School’s out. Decatur, IL: Brooks Books.
Swede, George (2000). Almost unseen. Decatur, IL: Brooks Books |
