Haiku Kukai 6

Global Haiku Tradition--Kukai 6, Spring 2006
(Select 10-15 favorite haiku & write about 3 favorites.)

brushing raven hair—
far off
a train howls

tied up hair
ready for a
run

summer daisies
adorning
Momma’s dark hair

the oak and I
sit
—settling dew

I try hard
but can’t keep up
with my running nose

as I watch the stream
the stream
watches me

the missing of Changchun
so crimson crimson red
they carry it always

between the skyscrapers
Christ reaches out
to those below

as the rain begins to fall,
I turn my face
toward the heavens

wishing you hated me
anything but this
indifference

summer's permeating heat—
a rainbow appears
in the mist from the sprinkler

on a higher bough
you are my brother

tree bark
warmed by the sun
streak of a meteor

morning kisses
softer than
your pillow

killing the wasp—
praying I'm not
troubling a star

deer in the cornfield
the breeze
smelling of freshly cut grass

taking a deep breath
after
saying his vows

today
they grabbed hands
with a spark
for the thousandth time

thick summer night
even the fireflies
are lazy

sunset—
a time
to listen

crystal vase
a goldfish floats to the top
belly up

old ladies gossip
over formal tea
chickens squawk outside

arguing
just to hear
his voice

the cool autumn chill
reminds me
I am alone

the flowers
happier
after the thunderstorm

spring afternoon
planted in the grass—
we grow together

behind the church
a field of thistle
in morning sunlight

the water still cold
to our bodies—
summer lake

peaking above ground
the tulip
blushes at the sun

from the braid
frizzy strands
escape

avoiding the cracks
on the sidewalk—
I walk down the street

pearly counter top—
one red-ish, rotting
apple

amid the flowers,
a concrete goose
without its head

last night's stroll
the smell of bar-b-que
still lingers

watching the grandkids
play jacks—
delight

the geese
…flock…
through springtime

swimming in circles
I see myself within the glass
trapped

ice tinkles
in the lemonade
southern comfort

a firefly lights
on a blunted dagger—
outdoor theatre

white rocks
piled up
to tracks

an afternoon excursion
at the lake . . .
fish for dinner

low murmurs
through the window:
a rabbit's nest

morning breeze
shower of white petals
float to the ground

bowing down
the fawn
sips the holy water

dark rain
drowning
all the earthworms

a walnut in its teeth,
the squirrel peers at me
from a low branch

beside the railroad
two squirrels
frozen

resting against the tree
a nearby squirrel
rummaging in the leaves

talk of hospice, then
new test results
and the opening of daylilies

in the grass,
a pair of flapping wings
springtime

shining bright on Bashô—
the illumination
of the black desk lamp

my stomach
turns over
another bad test grade

magnolia trees
in full bloom—
the soy factory!

blowing hair
from wide open windows
road trip

jagged stone
half-submerged
splits the river

a tie-dye blanket
so many colors
. . . a rainbow beauty

the ancient oak—
the lightening scar
still visible

sunrise
over the ocean—
pina colada

solace—
the warmth
of another

first raindrop
sizzles
on the asphalt

deep in the forest
the wind blows softly
whispering in the trees

final performance . . .
backstage
a stagehand pauses

august morning—
washing bedroom sheets
found in the hall

a child's painting—
the refrigerator magnet
stuck in the middle

dressed all in white
I step out
into the snow-covered world

as the popsicle melts
the joke
is revealed

through the sprinkler
me and my
hollyhock doll

tranquil is the first shiver
from a flurry—the last
tells you you're home

leaves rustling
through the half-open
window


© 2006, Randy Brooks • Millikin University • last updated: April 26, 2006
All rights returned to authors upon publication.