Haiku Kukai 7- final kukai

Global Haiku • Millikin University

Spring 2014

staring intensely
at the ice cream
one week more

many colors
lining the cabinet shelves
in glass bottles

a rusty bicycle
the last stall
of the creaky barn

frantic gestures
mocking taunts
Dutch Blitz

the story
constantly changing
the end a mystery

    the romantic surprise
flickering candles cast shadows
        on pink flower petals

aquarium
the fish and my reflection
stare back

bluegill
sharp spines
prick fingers

warm summer breeze
cattails swaying on the bank
not even a bite

laughing with friends
rooftop view
blood moon

first date—
stingrays approach
I hide behind him

pastor's sermon;
in the background,
we pass notes

out of balance
the ice cream cone
falls to the floor

suntan lotion
over her sun burn
gently, gently

tiptoeing past
    nana's armchair . . .
        the cat meows

weigh-boat on scale
all the numbers . . .
too much

constant chaos
finding peace
under the stars

4 am
an empty whiskey bottle
my lover

shooting star
wipes across the sky
wishful thinking

mouse clicks
distracting from
productivity

lab notebook open
scribbled last pages
last lab

at graduation
    dad cries
        more than mom

6 am wake up call
the newborn sparrows
up before I am

the art major's face—
as I light my hand
on fire

a crossroads
right or left?
too many options

a shadow falls
through the timber . . .
morels

shaking beaker
the young chemist's
sweaty hands

rusty pickup truck—
Southern belle's
first kiss

childhood stories
my parents embarrass me
in front of HIM

an empty arena
a jumbotron
lifeless

my daddy gave me
the old wooden rifle
his daddy gave him

man's best friend . . .
not so much
early in the morning

Wisconsin breeze
blows the ball
in the right direction

skipping stones
summer sun
tanning her pale skin

the hole like the moon
looks giant
as the putts start to drop

chatty roommate
bubbly
white wine

net loss
the red line
sinks deep

the puck
sails through the crease
a foghorn bellows

a shriek—
the pounding of a shoe
a spider no more

big black eyes
seing all that passes
the old sycamore

making an adjustment
to her dress—
wedding day

young tear-stained cheeks
the shower washes away
the pain

warm spring evening
corn field covered by snow
geese

strumming my guitar
the wind blows
I love you on her lips

the girl of my dreams
sitting next to me—
flatulence

satisfying ache
I bend into
downward dog

the rotten boy
falls off his bike—
spring break

office rumors . . .
nervous steps
as I report to his office

talk of the appetizers
he tries to change the subject
at the widow's expense

tall trees covered
in moonlight
woodland whippoorwills

autumn chill—
her stealing
my favorite sweatshirt

winter snowstorm
watching from the window
hot chocolate

ticket scalpers
hound
an undercover cop

brilliant flashes of light
as the gummy bear
. . . screams

lime tree blossoms
glow white—
vampire's kiss

flash of scales
silver-fin in the sun
splash

owl and turkeys
conversing in the land
between two rivers

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