Haiku kukai 4

Global Haiku • Millikin University • Spring 2018

the only man
who doesn't complain
when you leave him hanging

separate body parts
form a body
hangman

Choose your letters wisely
from A to Z
try not to hang me

dead man
on a chalkboard
hand drawn gallows

when you lose
just wipe him away
a new chalk gallow

soft whisper
in my neighbor’s ear
telephone

watching cartoons in bed
with a cup of cold apple juice
home sick

phone off
the pitter patter of rain
soothes me to sleep

your hat
on my nightstand
reminding me of you

talk of love
smiles hangover
a cup of tea

soft breeze
pinetree whistle
secrets of life

light smoke forms
barriers over
the top of the smokys

music blasting
in a room packed with people
but I see only you

an icy climb
up a hill
to see you again

a hot shower
washing away
the bad day

one more
empty swing
on the playground

soft snores
in the dark
the cat meows

a scratch
itching till it bleeds
overthinking

humidity rolls in
the open garage door
coolers as chairs

she thinks a
kiss is coming
a handshake instead

lawn chairs
by the poolside
talking of years past

caterpillar measures
the length of a bone
a body hidden in the woods

my hand print
on the side of a house
i'll never visit again

crimson drops
leave a clear trail
the hunter's delight

ashes
ashes
we all line up

live it up
then give it up
for lent

ashes
we all fall
as we break covenant

Valentine’s Day
a heart-shaped balloon
floats overhead

port-a-potty
flipped onto its side
Mardi Gras

ashen crosses
upon their foreheads
sharing a selfie

Chanel, Prada, Gucci
I notice her
everyday

10 year old
gives up Cheetos
for Lent

Mary's arms
stretched open
to welcome the weary home

fuzzy socks
dripping wet
squish

sun begins to peak
through the cloudy stream
rainbow trout

twilight
by the riverside
a girl lays flowers

a warm hand
pressed against a freezing window
her handprint fades

the children
tag one another
through rows of graves

baptisim
of someone
who cannot speak

so drunk . . .
my awkward walk
becomes straight

long work day
my almost
finished beer

my friend,
you'll never know
all my love

after a long day
a hot cup of tea
eases the soul

 

 

 

walking around campus
like a zombie
the plague has spread

a tiny old lady
submerged in her
faux fur coat

a dog bed
remains empty
next to me

finally back
everyone's home
the smell of mother's food

I take up space
to remember
I belong here

i used to hate
having all these brothers
now my best friend

a thousand shades
of glitter
slide off her hair

   Eleph             ant
h          h
h

night at the farmhouse
beer pong and cards
only with friends

innocent smile
giggles and diapers
there he walks off alone

sweet bananas
with a touch of salt
morning shots

a cold breeze
rustles the tree and the flowers
on his grave

cherry red nose --
down to the last
tissue box

Lights out.
and the ceiling becomes
a map of the universe

tattoos cover
scars and tell
the story of me

empty room
three little birds
hanging on the ceiling fan

water
or natty light
it's a throw up

paintings on the wall
curtains hung
still not homey

surrounded by timber
dark and gloomy
God spreads them with light

bed made
after a long day
so comforting

snowball thrown
back into snow
my dog faceplants

in a fishbowl
everyone watching
new relationship

long bus ride
nearing the waves
unforgettable

triple berry smoothie
after a quick workout
windows down

out of toilet paper
empty cereal box
dead car battery

family pictures
on the mantle
fireplace crackling

s t o m p i n g
on egg shells
everyone else tip-toes on

loving you
made me
cruel

grenade heart
itching
to pull the pin

another weekend
another celebration
dog's birthday

“For God and Country”
his pickup truck
secretes black smoke

kneeling at the coffin
hands crossed
praying to nobody

tissue parachutes
for saving Barbies
thrown off the landing

brisk wind
sliding a hand into my pocket
single smooth pearl

church bells
a year later
still playing your song

she is like a pineapple
crown on her head
sweet and pale

display showcase
a shimmering pink box
35 colorful shades

every night
the diary beside her
with no written words

she walks into class everyday
my eyes stare
my stomach flips

running late
spilling coffee
all over my outfit

did you hear
the kids aren’t
alright

© 2018, Randy Brooks • Millikin University
All rights returned to authors upon publication.