Global Haiku Tradition--Spring 2006
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school’s out— —Brooks (S.O. 17) This haiku reminded me of episodes of Law and Order: Special Victims Unit, where a kid follows an animal or toy or something into a place where they cannot be seen, and they are kidnapped, killed, raped, molested, etc. Then the guardians are always in that hindsight mode talking about what they could have done, but the sarcastic cop, Munch, always says something that makes the parents feel that much worse. This haiku makes me think about hindsight, and things that I would do differently in my life if given the chance. What would I do? What wouldn’t I do? I think that this perhaps an odd reading of this haiku, but it was one hell of a starter into the book for me. Adam |
show me yours. Brooks SO, pg 23 This haiku made me laugh when I first read it. It’s such a pivotal moment in a young child’s life when the time comes that a member of the opposite sex asks to see “it”. I can see a young boyfriend and girlfriend in a loft of a barn where they are sure that no one will find them, especially mom or dad. They are being so quiet because they are both so nervous that they are able to hear every little noise, and it scares them every time. Neither one wants to show first, so they go back and forth until one of them finally gives in. All in all, I really enjoyed this haiku. Elizabeth |
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in the saddle Brooks, School’s Out, Brooks, Pg 24 I think there is always something in someone’s life that will be special for them no matter how old they get. My dad used to be an unbelievable baseball player; he quit playing not too long ago, but you can tell how much he misses it and whenever baseball is brought up, he perks up and gets excited. That’s what this haiku reminded me of. Even though the grandpa is old and stooped over he still is proud of his horses or riding or whatever it may be. There is still the one thing that has followed him all these years and he still gets excited about it. I really liked this haiku not for technique so much as it is a feeling that is difficult to express, but was expressed so vividly to me in this poem. Rachel |
two lines in the water… Brooks – School’s Out, pg 26 The scene is a perfect example of moments that are too precious for words – a depiction of the unspoken bond between good friends, husband and wife, or in this case, father and son. The son echoes his father’s movements exactly, as there is no doubt that his father is the one who taught him to fish. No words between them implies, not any kind of tension or discomfort in the connection between the two, but rather that a conversation (most likely a forced one considering the silence and placidity of the situation) would only get in the way of the moment, the situation, the father and son. Brian B |
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swimming pool… Brooks, School’s Out, Brooks, Pg 29 This one is so funny to me because I can relate to it so well. I grew up in a farming town and we used to swim at my friend Joe’s house; his pool was a huge feeding bin. All the boys from my town have a farmer’s tan and it’s so funny to see. My little brother doesn’t farm, but he plays baseball so he has the same thing. It’s almost something they are embarrassed of, but secretly proud of because it means they’ve been working all summer or playing all summer and making good use of their time. I liked a lot of the haiku in “School’s Out” because they described my childhood or my hometown. They are very relatable to me. Rachel This haiku has my hometown written all over it. Everyone has a farmer’s tan and it is hilarious seeing them when they are swimming. I like how this one specific thing, so forgettable can unite many people. Anyone who grew up in a small/hick town knows what a farmer’s tan is and probably laughed out loud when they read this. I like the playfulness of it. Alisha Coming from a small farm town, I can really appreciate this haiku. This scene reminds me of the one place that kids in a small town go in the summer: the town pool. You get quite a variety at the town pool, and you know the thing’s about 13% urine to begin with. And yet, when you were a kid, things like that didn’t even occur to you. Even though it only describes a single event, it brings back all of the old memories from summers past. Rick |
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late afternoon… —Brooks (S.0. 30) This reminds me of my on-again-off-again relationship with sunlight. I remember particularly while I was in Spain. I was there with a group of ten from school, and we spent a day on the beach. I don’t like beaches, and I don’t like blinding sunlight, so everyone went and played in the ocean, the guys took turns dunking each other beneath the water, the girls liberated themselves by tanning topless, and my Spanish teacher and I sat under a large umbrella in beach chairs as we drank gin and smoked, her cigarettes, and I cigars. It was fun, I didn’t have to go in the water, and I had a satisfying beach outing. Adam |
freckle-face grin... -Brooks (SO, pg. 35) The adjectives used in this haiku really create a fresh-faced, All-American image. This haiku really made me think of my little sister, when she was about 4, with her many freckles and red ringlets. She used to practically live at the mulberry tree during the summer. So even though haiku was about apple blossoms, I saw her underneath the tree with dark stains all over her face and clothes, grinning from ear to ear. Allison I love the freeness of this haiku. What was very interesting about this haiku was all that it implied without being said. I realized after I read this haiku that I had a very clear image of a little girl running inside to her parents after spending the day playing in the fields. She’s winded with a giant smile on her face, her cheeks slightly rosy. It then took me a few minutes to read the haiku again and realize that none of that was actually listed in the haiku, but it somehow was very clear in the way that it pushed the reader to make such conclusions themselves. This haiku just made me feel very happy and free. It also brought me back to when I was a little freckle-faced girl. Jamie |
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end of summer- (Randy Brooks, SO, p 35) |
pinetree trimmings— (Randy Brooks, School’s Out, pg. 35) This is the haiku I chose to write my haibun from because it provided me with a great memory- the act of these moths being caught mating remind me of teenagers being caught making out in one of their homes, and then being separated by the parents….i think it’s a hilarious situation. Traci |
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Sunday after lunch… Randy Brooks, S.O., pg 38 Because I am so close to my family, especially my sisters, this haiku hit close to home for me. Even though I have never been in this exact situation, I can still imagine exactly what it would be like from reading this haiku. My whole family is together for a Sunday brunch, and it’s loud and messy and crowded. My sisters and I are sitting together at a small card table in the living room that was set up to accommodate more people. It’s then that one of them would tell us she was pregnant, but we couldn’t tell just yet, even though we all want to shout it from the rooftops! The looks on our face are priceless and I can see us all giving each other these knowing looks and only we know what they mean. I like how this haiku makes you part of the family and lets you in on the secret, too. Liz |
the bride’s mouth Brooks, SO, pg 39 I liked this haiku for the image of the bride, and that reason only. She’s wearing a fairy princess dress, and the most beautiful she will probably look ever again…and she’s got cake crumbs spraying out of her mouth. It’s very humorous, and probably slightly embarrassing for her. Yet, you know her groom doesn’t care. He’s just so happy to be married to her that he doesn’t care a lick (hehe…lick) that she’s covered in cake. Stephanie What a carefree wedding reception! Although this is certainly not the “ideal” depiction of the perfectly happy couple, I think it is still very romantic. First of all, the bride is comfortable to be messy and improper around her new husband—I think this is so important in relationships. Second, the fact that the groom knows exactly what she would be thinking (and thus answers for her) is also very important. Though this haiku does not depict a flawless, romantic moment, I think it serves as a good omen that this relationship will work out. Melanie |
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all three pregnant Brooks SO 42 Coming from a family where it’s an off year without a pregnancy, this haiku means a lot to me. This could easily be about any three women from my family. I like the seasonal element of cantaloupe, and also the fact that, for some reason, there always seem to be more pregnant women around in the summer (Thinking of my family, six of the ten grandkids were born in the latter half of the year, maybe that’s why). I also like the image of all the women gathering around the kitchen table. To some, that may seem a little old-fashioned, but I feel that it’s a nice, wholesome image. Sarah |
black ants Brooks, SO 50 This haiku is so interesting because the implications of the last line could vary so much. If the child is just learning to walk, he probably is very clumsy on his feet—this means that when he lifts one foot to avoid the army of ants, he probably loses his balance and falls on his bottom. Or perhaps it is a very timid child, in which case the ants would scare him and make him burst into tears. However, the funniest situation would be if the child was a very adventurous one—then, perhaps, he is lifting up his foot in preparation to step on the army of ants. Melanie |
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face -Brooks (SO, pg. 51) I liked this haiku because it reminds me of the uses of the moon in traditional Japanese Haiku, especially Basho’s use of it. It has a sense that the face in the window is replacing the moon in the sky. To be honest at first, before I read the last line of this poem, I actually assumed that the face was referring to the moon itself rather than a person. It does all seem to have this sense of transition between people imagining the moon and having it turn into a face in their minds. I guess that may be the way the author intended, I don’t know, perhaps I’ll ask him… Andrew |
the pinwheel stops -Brooks (SO, pg. 52) I really enjoyed this haiku because of the juxtaposition of cheerful, whirling pinwheels and the sadness of grandpa's aging body. The first line makes you expect a happy haiku, and then you read the last lines and think..."Oh..that's sad." Allison |
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ghost town cemetery— Brooks, SO, pg 52 I liked this haiku because it screamed history. Just from those three lines, I can imagine an entire backstory and history for the town. Also, it has a very haunting feeling about it. (Maybe because the first word is ‘ghost…could be?) The combination of ‘ghost town’ and the ‘Kansas wind’ gives it a very frail, crumbling, decrepit feel. Stephanie |
stockings on the mantle… (School’s Out, Brooks 60) This haiku reminded me of many a Christmas from my childhood, as I’m sure it does for a lot of people. As a child, I wondered how, exactly, Santa was supposed to come down the chimney if we had a fire in the fireplace that evening. I was urgently explaining to my parents Santa’s/my dilemma, trying to get them to put out the fire in case Santa decided to come a little early. Apart from the universal nature of this haiku, I liked the image in the first line. It, too, is very universal. I imagine stockings in three places on three fireplaces: one at my first home, one at my current home, and one at my grandparents’ home in Chicago (where we spent many Christmas’s). Pat |
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riding down -Brooks (SO, pg. 60) So to start off, I need to say, just incase anyone did know already, that I am a proud resident of the south side of Chicago. I’ve taken the public transportation in that city more times than I could remember and it’s dirty, it’s smelly and I love it. Now, many people could talk about how it interesting to instill an image of a pure element in nature and juxtapose it with the man made nature of the city, and don’t get me wrong, that is a very cool element in this poem, but that is not what I envisioned in this poem. You see, the only escalators that go down that I can recall being a part of the train system in Chicago are inside the stations. The outside access points to go out are escalators, but to go in are stairs. The escalators that are going down are all inside. Sometimes while you in the stations, especially in winter when there is more dust around, trains go through and vibrate the station rafters and a little dust will float down. So the reason I like this haiku, is that it reminded me of the dust falling like snow in winter as you go down an escalator to the platform. Andrew |
his vomit wiped up… (Randy Brooks, SO, p 62) Somehow, I feel as if I am the owner of the wheaties. How many times, I can’t even recall…have I been forced to clean up the drunken mess of some idiots’ fantastic night. Of course, I do experience my own amount of fun, I’m not denying it. I have never, however forced someone into the position of choosing between enjoying themselves and taking care of my drunkenness. I feel that Dr. Brooks has taken a common place college situation and placed it in a context that could easily apply to any level of schooling. The choice of wheaties is also interesting, it makes me focus on personal experiences but also think back on school mornings with my mom, feeling that sense of security and safety all over again. Erin There is nothing I want more than to be a mom, and it’s for moments like this. As a child, throwing up is one of the most awful things to happen….they’re not used to their body and can’t judge when something is making them ill and they’re unable to take care of themselves- thus making the parent feel so needed and important. To me, this haiku tells the story of a child getting sick before school while the parent is eating their bowl of cereal…the child yelled to them to come help them and they left it immediately. The contrast to the child’s vomit which is probably colorful (perhaps littered with candy) as compared to the parent’s brown, bland, nutritional meal is also an ironic visual. Traci |
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each stroke of the crayon -Brooks, School’s Out, p.63 Oh my goodness this haiku was just sooooooo cute! I love watching children playing and doing what we find to be such simple tasks. It’s always touched me just how passionate children are about everything that they do, and I thought this haiku captured the essence of a child’s determination. Imagining this child’s tongue pressed tightly against his lips illustrates the tension of the child making sure to create the perfect piece of art. What’s most amusing is that the picture more than likely came out not quite what we would consider neat or perfect, but what matters is how beautiful and precious the picture will be to the one who receives it as a gift. Children never make crafts for themselves, and put so much love and effort into what they do. I can just imagine his proud little faces beaming when he has finished his work. Jamie |
autumn chill… Brooks SO, pg 65 This haiku reminded me a lot of my brother. He is really big into grilling out during the summer. I really like going over to his house for dinner because he is such a good cook. Everything he makes is just amazing. However, he has a really hard time putting the grill away once the fall weather hits. He always has to grill just one last time. Usually, we all sit outside chatting while he is doing the cooking. Once that chilly fall air starts coming in, you will see all of my family huddled around the grill just to keep warm. If the neighbors ever watched us doing this they would surely think we were ridiculous because we are all sitting around the grill in a circle while my brother cooked. Elizabeth |
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Mom’s sunburnt back… (Randy Brooks, School’s Out, pg. 75) This was my favorite haiku, and it made me laugh out loud. I am the middle of three girls in my family and this scene, I’m sure, played out on one of our vacations of summer days. The “baby” is usually closest to the mom in most family’s so they would tend to be drawn in closer physically first, and once they have crossed that barrier the eldest’s intrigue would win over and they would follow too. I can see this scenario happening in one of two ways- either the mom is showing her kids what happened (kind of like a “what not to do” lecture) and they can’t help but touch it which kind of irks her but she let’s them to see the pain it can cause. The other is that the baby came up to hug her good night or goodbye, which causes them to touch the back, and then the older child (with a later bedtime perhaps) comes to repeat the same loving action. Traci |
new grave… Randy Brooks SO pg 77 This haiku really made me think about how short and tragic life can be. The person in this haiku might not have even worn their graduation tassel. I also found it interesting that I automatically thought it was a high school senior rather than an eighth-grade graduate or a college graduate. For this reason I think the graduation tassel was a good piece of imagery to use to give the idea that the person who died was young and probably in high school. They were young and had their whole life ahead, or so the cliché goes. I liked the poem because of the power it has and how moving it is. Corinne |
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cedar walking cane Brooks – School’s Out, pg 78 The narrator’s tone gives me a sense of a great guilt he may be feeling. He sees the cane as it rests on the back of the coat rack, and the cane obviously means a lot to him, having belonged to someone who was very dear to him who has now passed away (evident from the dust that has collected on the cane’s handle). But what is he supposed to do? Where does this guilt stem from? Perhaps he feels that the cane should be better used or even stored in a more fitting place than one in which it will merely gather dust, but is remorseful because he hasn’t yet remedied the problem. Perhaps the cane’s appearance every time the narrator goes to the coat rack is a reminder of how seldom they actually keep the departed in their thoughts without having to be prompted by the cane. But I enjoy this poem because of the allegorical nature of the cane – the idea that it embodies or represents it carrier long since passed. Brian B |
coffee shop… (School’s Out, Brooks 80) I liked this haiku for a variety of reasons, but primarily for the image it invoked in my head and the form of it. When I read it, I imagined the coffee shop in Oakland. My friend Barbie and I once had a wonderful late night conversation in the couch area and kept switching seats, for some reason. The reason isn’t important, for the seats always stayed warm throughout the night. It is a wonderful memory I will always have of our friendship. Perhaps I’m reading into the haiku too much, but it is almost shaped like a chair, giving the haiku a physical image to go along with the mental one it provokes in the reader. Pat |
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up late with old friends… Randy Brooks SO pg 81 I liked this haiku because it reminded me of all the times I would be awake in my room when my parents and their friends or my aunts and uncles or someone was over. And even though whatever they were talking about was the most boring thing to me I wanted to be in there. It’s like hearing someone laugh and wanting to know the joke so you can laugh to. I liked the use of the word “again” , because you now know that this is the third or fourth time that she has been put back to bed. I also liked how the word “blankie” was chosen over blanket because like the graduation tassel in the other haiku it implies the age of the subject of the haiku. Corinne |
cool haiku stone... Brooks, School's Out, pg. 82 The stone seems so natural in this haiku. I wonder what the haiku says and if there is something about the haiku that drew the ant to it. Maybe there is a significance in the lines that the ant is tracing. The scene is so zen, that the ant itself may be writing the haiku, one line at a time. Ryne |
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pair of sunken boats Brooks, School's Out, pg. 83 Boats are some of my favorite objects used as images in haiku. There are so many different types and builds, they vary by geography or their intended use, and the designs are unlimited. The boats being sunk in the garden give a mystical feel to the garden, with two small rowboats spiking out of the water at a dangerous angle. It also seems tragic for the boats to be crashed, but yet they add a mysterious beauty to the scenery in the garden. Ryne |
our teenagers Randy Brooks, S.O., pg. 92 This haiku addresses an issue that I don’t think I’ve come across yet in haiku. There comes a time when your babies grow up to think for themselves and make their own decisions and you have to let go. Being the youngest of 6 kids and have gone through this recently, I can easily relate to this haiku. Coincidentally, my sister Megan went white water rafting a few years ago when she was still in college during spring break. My parents didn’t want her to go because, of course, she was going with a bunch of her “irresponsible” college friends and white water rafting is pretty dangerous. Eventually, my parents “let go” of the rope, and of their dream that Megan would never grow up, and they let her go on the trip. I think more haiku should be written about this entering into adulthood! Liz |
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garage sale… SO p. 93 I really like the sentiment in this haiku. I like garage sales because of the things you find and it is hard to get rid of them because they hold so many memories. I like how the shirt is so specific that it seems it was only worn during the honeymoon and never before or after. I am amazed that one could remember a specific shirt during a specific time from long ago, yet I can still remember the shirt my boyfriend had on the first time I met him. Alisha |
©
2006, Randy Brooks • Millikin University • last updated:
May 3, 2006
All rights returned to authors upon publication.