Global Haiku • Spring 2018
Dr. Randy Brooks

Adolescent Artwork

by
Rachel Humphrey

I chose this collection of haiku because of the memories they spark from my life. I was influenced by a lot of changes in my personal and big emotions that I have experienced in the past few years, AKA my adolescence, and my transformation and journey into “adulthood”. Imagery was very prevalent in a lot of these poems and I believe the images perfectly expressed and conveyed certain atmospheres for my readers. I chose to include more haiku than anything else, because I have continuously admired and been inspired by how many feelings can be conveyed and triggered through just a few words. This collection should paint images in the readers’ minds, while offering a relatability through the words and mood of each piece. Enjoy Adolescent Artwork!

Bio

Rachel Humphrey will be graduating from Millikin University with a degree in Musical Theatre and a minor in Dance. She is originally from Franklin, Tennessee. After graduation, she will be working with Prairie Fire Children’s Theatre, and then participating in the Disney College Program at Walt Disney World in Orlando, FL. While at Millikin, Rachel was a part of many organizations such as Alpha Chi Omega, Sigma Alpha Iota, Alpha Psi Omega, Burlesque Underground, and the Elemental Dance Collective. Rachel is so grateful to have been able to reconnect to her love of writing through haiku!

rollercoaster hill
my fingers find yours
in the sky

frail old woman
gently wraps a pink ribbon
around stems of liliacs

dusk
cuddling
regrets

a child’s glove
dripping with wet snow
plopped on the dryer lid

running from his apartment
the buildings towering
over her tear stained face

forgotten post-it
found on the back
of your favorite book

a breeze in the fur
of the dead squirrel
a pretend resurrection

my roommates
aren’t speaking this week
homeless

wine stained lips
tear strained cheeks . . .
we make grilled cheese

blonde curls fall to the floor
freedom from the life lived
chop chop

greasy spots
soaking in the cardboard
the forgotten pizza box

tumbling in the dryer
warm, crinkled
dollar

10 year old
gives up Cheetos
for Lent

tearing the flimsy paper
on the doctor’s chair
in anticipation

rainstorm
my hero is the one
with an umbrella

our warm bodies
magnets
in a king-sized bed

I still see your face
when I’m with nobody
but the trees

sending Christmas cards
your address crossed out
in pen

dizzy from love
and vodka
you hold my hair back

sunset
sharing secrets
and a chocolate bar

watching a movie
your eyes light up
my favorite part

I climb onto the school bus, my shoes gently tapping against each metal step. I head to my usual seat towards the comfortable middle section, and slide onto a sticky, brown cushioned seat. I toss my heavy backpack next to me and sigh. The windows are cloudy with dirt, smashed bugs, and handprints. The floor underneath me starts to rumble as the bus begins to move once again. The world outside begins to fly by, and trees become green blurs. I glance across the aisle and make eye contact with a girl my age. Her brown hair just passes her shoulders and we share a soft, but exhausted smile. The smell of sweat as a product of the August heat fills my nostrils. I pull my tangled earphones out of my bag and stick them into my ears, plugging them into my phone and hitting shuffle on my music. I glance at the girl once again, noticing a small hand mirror in her hand, and a pout on her face. I smile to myself as I shut my eyes.

mosquito flitters
camouflaged
by the shadow of the seat

dishes piled up in the sink
ramen noodle
slides across a cup

the curl of the dog’s
sleeping body
matches hers

church bells
a year later
still playing your song

a scratch
itching till it bleeds
overthinking

tissue parachutes
for saving Barbies
thrown off the landing

she picks a daisy
just in case
spring cleaning

waddling
to the table for leftovers
the dog pants

cheese fries
turning cold and soggy
in their paper box

one sock
stood up
by its perfect match

kissing the wine bottle
before kissing her boy
lips stick

girl’s tiny ring
snagged
in her lace white dress