Haiku Kukai 1

Global Haiku • Millikin University • November 2014

small talk over coffee
for just a moment
common ground

cherished moment
first laugh
at the touch of grass

yearbook
one text
changed my life forever

wrapped in the arms
of a mother's embrace
no place like home

class in the woods
we found more ticks
than birds

birth day
nature's push
breast milk and lullabies

looking across the table
I find a smile
until we meet again

a birds song
bacon
sizzling in the skillet

never again
will I find satisfaction
I settle for just ok

judge's gavel slams
little boy smiles
with tears in his eyes

bedtime
sleepy boy
cuddles his momma

first missing tooth
on Halloween eve
jack-o-lantern smiles

Grandma tucks the quilt close to my cheek
a soft pat
keeping warm

flipping the channels
find something interesting
credits start to roll

pottery class clay
muscles
I don't use very often

cold winter air
a family plays
in the street

Sunday morning
home work
is my church

football Sunday
chili
in the crockpot

twilight
children running through
green grass

going in for lunch
check out all the lines
eat the same thing as always

closet full
memorial fresh
reading line after line

cold coffee scorched shirt
o'dark thirty
snow flurries

the sun coming up
coffee grounds
brewing in the pot

morning drive home
in the rear view mirror
an X on my forehead

dawn breaks
coffee pot perks up
my mind

Christmas morning
the smell
of burning wood

spring wedding
something new
a liquid diet

hair covered in foils
girl talk
beautiful

alone and scared
I find myself
missing you

tears roll down her face
loss of a loved one
has no words

praying
the dusty rocking chair
in the nursery

me and my sister
waiting and waiting—
streetlights come on

ill father
looking him eye to eye
for the first time

a four year old
on the edge of his seat
acrobats

starry night
trying to find
my inner roar

car in neutral
enjoy the rainbows

sunshine on soft dirt
roses on her bed
rain clears tears

rows of pews
standing behind her
day of her life

basket of lemons
and sweet sugar
hard times

 

 

 

 

 

 

quietly nursing heavy eyes
mother lifts the morning fog

hooked up
to all kinds of machines
new life

Saturday morning errands
sirens and lights
a high-speed chase

a Christmas card
that was never sent
from mother

mind racing
midnight
home alone

cold afternoon
clowns, bears and elephants
at the circus

venom
watching every drip
enter my body

Downward Dog.
yoga master
demands

fire light
words are spoken with
past strangers

fire crackling
cards being played
home away from home

hockey gear hangs
in the basement
a stink like no other

bicycle lying in the yard
six of clubs
stuck in the spoke

waking up
traffic lights flicker
through my curtains

long cold winter
labor and delivery worker
baby boom

wandering in the dark
looking for something
I can't seem to find

swoosh
his little hands raise up high
in victory

long lines, loud chatter
snacks, pizza
beer in the shopping carts

Thanksgiving sunshine
family dinner
wine and board games

Easter morning
the warm blanket
a family tradition

a child cries
her mother slips
into the darkness

first born son
husband's happiness
pondering the future

messy hair
just two more bites
Cherrios on the floor

white dress and veil
hand in hand
together forever

still of the night
fresh blanket
let it snow

sticky and wet
pots
pinched or coiled

pink and yellow rose bushes
blooming in my basement
my winter joy

starry night
walk in the woods
holding hands

sunny day
feet in the sand
endless

baby face
I am cursing
the sands in the hourglass

in our own world
we talk the night
away

walking away
just to know
you're not alone

fireball!
fireball?
fireball

cuter as the hours pass
soul mates perhaps
thanks again for nothing
beer

old wool afghan
touching toes
she steals a little warmth

hot tea
hands resting around
     the cup
conversation

first day gospel
prosperous black-eyed peas

 

cold winter night
the tree limbs
sway toward the street lights

© 2014, Randy Brooks • Millikin University
All rights returned to authors upon publication.