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IN203 Honors Seminar: Global Haiku Tradition |
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under the rose petal by Melanie McClay is a freshman Vocal Music Education major, and plans to teach general music in a bilingual elementary school. “My favorite color is green, and I enjoy people watching.” |
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AUTHOR’S PREFACE “Under the Rose Petal” is a collection of haiku I wrote during January-May 2006, while taking Dr. Randy Brooks’ Global Haiku Tradition Seminar. My personal definition of haiku seemed to change every day in that class, and so this collection has turned out to be rather eclectic. After re-reading all the haiku I wrote throughout the semester, I picked twenty of my favorites—twenty different haiku that each encompassed its own unique “haiku definition” all the while connecting with a much larger idea of what haiku can be. The title of this collection comes from my signature haiku:
Of all the haiku I have written thus far, this one is for me the most quintessential example of what a haiku could and should be: it is brief and imposes no ideas on the reader, and it contains a vivid image of something small, average, or regularly ungraceful. For me, that is what haiku writing is all about. Thank you for taking a look at my collection. I hope you enjoy it! —Melanie McLay READER’S PREFACE Most of us claim that we write from our own experiences, but when the chips come down to it we’ll make anything up. I do it, you do it, we’ve all done it at one time or another. It’s a good way to get things done quickly. But I know for a fact that Melanie McLay writes solely from her own memories. If it’s not something she’s seen or done, she can’t write about it. This is not because she is refusing to, it is simply because she cannot. She does not have the ability to make up situations of her own memories. That is why each haiku is special and worthy of our time, because we know them to be legitimate and true. Take “quiet girl/walks away from her past/in hot pink pumps.” That can only come from a girl who knows. —Mark Beanblossom |
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streetlight silhouette |
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red roses |
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surrounded by cool stone |
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smoke and wine |
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a half-empty pint |
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a candy heart |
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the street minstrel |
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amid the flowers, |
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magnolia trees |
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even the stone walls |
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stormy skies |
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My grandmother lives in a neighborhood for the elderly, though lately she has spent most of her time in and out of the hospital. She is eighty-one years old, but the stories she tells are only about her younger years. Her favorite story to tell is about her senior prom. She tells it the same way every time: “When I went to prom, my sister Ruth bought me a white dress and bright red shoes. Boy, did I think I was hot stuff! My date was this boy from Feitschens School, and let me tell you he was fat. But boy could he dance! He was this big around but he could dance, and we did the Shag and the Charleston all night! I remember those bright red shoes—you know Ruth bought them for me. Boy did we used to fight over doing the dishes. I’d get her down on the ground and beat her!” meeting her grandchild’s beau— |
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the captive caterpillar |
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he bends over the edge |
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late August silence |
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chocolate pudding |
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buried in the closet |
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quiet girl |
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walk home from aerobics |
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a starless sky |
© 2006 Randy Brooks, Millikin University, Decatur, Illinois
all rights reserved for original authors