Global Haiku • Spring 2010
Dr. Randy Brooks

Untold Secrets
Haiku Collection

by
Tyler Lamensky

Throughout the Spring 2010 Millikin University semester, I have had the privilege to immerse myself in a unique poetic culture; haiku. Contrary to my original and strict “5-7-5” haiku understanding, contemporary English haiku is so much more. For a haiku to be “born” it requires both a writer and reader. Writers strive to capture moments in life (especially in nature) that can provide vivid imagery and intense meaningful messages. Reader’s take each poem and create their own interpretation, making personal connections to the haiku. For me, haiku are complete stories expressed in a few words, and it’s open-ended interpretation allows many different stories to be read. I will respect, value and appreciate haiku for the rest of my life. The title, “Untold Secrets”, derives from a haiku I’ve written to depict a carefree world with hidden messages within.

the golden field sways
whispering quietly
our untold secrets

Camping Haibun

At an early age, I was quickly introduced to the outdoors. My family enjoyed sports, camping, hiking, biking, and boating. Basically, you name the outdoors activity and we liked to do it.

Furthermore, growing up in Wisconsin produced a close relationship with different types ofnature from all four seasons. Of these seasons summer became a particular favorite due to camping throughout Wisconsin. The family favorite camping site was two hours north of Green Bay called Boulder Junction. We reserved the samesmall red cabin for a week in July up until I was ten years old. Camping at Boulder Junction became a vital family tradition in my upbringing, placing importance with those memories.

The most vivid memories revolved around the old wooden dock in the backyard of the lake front cabin. We fished off the dock at breakfast, swam in the shallows during the day, and watched the sunset at night. The six supporting pillars were stained just above water level with passing waves. Several of the faded dock boards creaked slowly as I would approach the end of the pier. Although the creaking should have made mecautious, I had complete faith in the strength of the dock and would run along it carefree. Sitting at the end, I would run my hands along the age-smoothed wood, usually warm to the touch from the sun. The dock was covered with knick sand chipped wood as though they were the battle scars of the veteran pier. Sturdy and constant the dock served as a anchor for many of my childhood camping memories.

Wisconsin camping trips
lake splashing chaos
a family tradition

heavy rain drops
fall on his shoulders
another burden

battling the blizzard
his boot sinks in
one step closer

studying for the test
I read the chapter too closely
history book pillow

her sweet voice
ends our relationship
my venus fly trap

studying for the test
I read the chapter too closely
history book pillow

my dad’s campfire stories
aren’t the same
through the phone

phone call with grandma
five minutes
make the difference

warm moonlit grass
tickles my arm
her pillow shifts

crickets at nightfall
the radio silenced
as music continues

the icy babbling brook
whispers quietly
of spring