sunday afternoon . . .
his math homework
in crayon

Amy Van Rheeden (6)

I like this one because it brings back grade school memories. I remember using crayons to do math homework…1+1=2. It also reminded me of when I can’t find a pen or pencil to do homework in and I use what I can find – a colored pencil, marker, or crayon. It’s a cute haiku that holds a childishness that most don’t want to let go of. Michelle

This honestly reminds me of Mark's haiku about watching Love Story, where it's just to do it more than anything. It's a Sunday afternoon and the math homework is less than desirable. Out of boredom (and maybe a little spite for the boringness and difficulty of the assignment), the person picks up a crayon and begins doing limits and derivitives with blue crayon. Though another scenario could be doing homework at home and picking up a little sibling's crayon. Or even a younger child doing their homework in crayon because that's a familiar medium to him. Aubrie

the fading sky
making the flyers
invisible

Brandy Bockewitz

The first line of this haiku provides such a desriptive time of day- just after the sun has slipped over the horizon, and as the color slowly recedes as the rods and cones in our eyes trade places. When I first read this, I though about paper fliers (to advertise something) because during that time of the evening, trying to read becomes more difficult because of the disappearing light. But on second read, it also could be the people in an airplane that can no longer be seen in the sky, only the engines heard. Debbie

in the crack
of the mountainside
thatch-roofed hut

cold slaw and old bread
a prisoner
asks for seconds

hiking up
mountain tops
rocks bigger than me

Brandy Bockewitz (2)

not for forgiveness
he prays—
hands in his pockets

Sam Sinkhorn (4)

cold sore
garlic on my breath—
he tries to kiss me

Amy Van Rheeden (3)

smoky crags
a bell
from the mountain top

unable to lift
my head from the pillow
early frost

Aubrie Cox (2)

late to work
stopping to watch
a snail cross

Melanie McLay (6)

I like the attitude of the narrator in this one, since he is already late to work, but simply does not give a damn. Perhaps that snail even reminds the narrator of himself at work: slowly plodding along without really going anywhere. Why would someone want to go to work when the perfect universal symbol is sitting right in front of them? Mark

I really like this haiku! The person is late for work but yet he or she cares enough for a creature to be safe and not squashed into the pavement. It shows real beauty and character. Also, a great image is given within the words. Brandy

Procrastination at its finest, truly. Trying to find the most effective way to eat up time, but at the same time, the person finds something insightful (possibly) in focusing on that snail and slowing down whether that was their intention or not. It also reminds me, for some odd reason, of last year, first semester, when Joel Booster would arrive late to class on a regular basis. Then one day, he ran in, collapsed into his desk and told us the long story about taking a test and how he'd realize he was going to be late for our class, and begin to rush... then realize he was going to be late regardless of what he did, so would slow back down and take his time. Then would realize that would make him even more late, so would rush, then get mopey and slow down and so on, so forth. Aubrie

a branch breaks,
the sound muffled
by the clamor of the city

Sam Sinkhorn

a jar of olives
i eat the one
unpitted

Debbie Myers (3)

This is a great senryu here. I like it because it goes beyond most senryu, having so many sensory elements to it as well. I can see the jar of juicy olives—I can see the deep green color and I can taste the richness and the tartness. And then—CRACK! I can feel the jolt on my jaw as my teeth crunch against a pit! The word choice is great too—the author gets “the one” that still has its pit! What bad luck! Melanie

One of the main reasons I like this haiku is because of the world “unpitted.” It has such a great sound, and I love it when people make up words for their haiku. I also like the imagery of the jar of olives, and the person of this haiku is searching for one that is “unpitted.” To me, this haiku is reminiscent of a haiku in the previous kukai:

colorful jar
one mint chocolate
at the bottom.

Sam

i peek through curtains
watching my neighbor
plant flowers

Debbie Myers

This haiku is a perfect representation of “people watching.” I think we are always interested in what other people are doing, particularly our neighbors. What makes this haiku interesting is that the neighbor has no idea that he/she is being watched. I enjoy the perspective of this haiku. I also get the feeling that their may be animosity toward the neighbor, considering he/she is being spied on. Either way this haiku is interpreted, it is still great. Sam

midnight run
an owl hoots as I chase
a burglar

Mark Beanblossom (4)

bobbing straw hat
lost in
the cornfield

Melanie McLay (4)

homeward
I pass
my old stalker

winter argument—
i'm sorry
scribbled in snow

Debbie Myers (3)

This one is very sentimental to me. I can see a boyfriend and girlfriend getting into a fight and the girl isn’t listening and he wants to apologize. Since she won’t listen, the best way to apologize is to write it in the snow. It’s very simple and pure and I really like that because it adds innocence to the haiku as well. Michelle

eating a peach
i feel the juice
color my shirt

Debbie Myers (6)

kayaking
another rapid
overboard

i reread your love letters
and those rose petals
crumble to my touch

my father's repainted car
empty on the roadside—
I keep driving

Aubrie Cox (3)

I'm not sure how to feel when I read this haiku, and that's a big part of why I like it. It leaves a lot of questions unanswered, with tension and no real relief. Why would you not stop for your father's car? And why is it repainted? Where is it at now, and are you sure it's your father's car? Debbie

lull me to sleep…
warm blankets
under the laptop

lost sight of the shore
the rock of the boat
lulls me to sleep

Aubrie Cox

This haiku seems to depict a moment of detachment from the hustle and bustle of the “real world.” Here, the author has drifted out on the water, deliberately finding a spot that keeps the shore (and its reminder of daily responsibilities) out of sight and out of mind. Sometimes we ought to suspend our lives, ignore our responsibilities, and just live in the moment. And isn’t that the point of haiku—enjoying a moment! Melanie

mountains,
so much older...
than I

Sam Sinkhorn (2)

the pregnant bride-to-be’s father
judges me
by my music

vibrant roses
lying
on a gravestone

Mark Beanblossom (3)

hanging decorations
in the window
yadhtrib yapph

cracked voice
singing to me…
dry night

a love letter
sent to my boss...
accidently

Sam Sinkhorn (5)

In today's' world, I imagine the love letter was probably as an email, and although the author checked and double-checked every word and syllable in the content of the message, when it came time to choose the name from the address book, they accidentally clicked on the wrong oe. It would be an awkward morning after, going in to work at 8am to try to explain. Debbie

This haiku is great! Although I would hate it to happen to myself, it would be pretty funny to witness in real life. I picture a boss, printed email in hands, outraged asking employees whose joke it was as all the employees pretend they nothing about it. Brandy

we pull in the driveway—
the willow doesn’t shade
his hand on her thigh

Amy Van Rheeden (2)

I like this haiku, especially considering that it fits in with all the nostalgia that we are supposed to be writing about. Without going into much detail, I can say that I have experienced moments like this, but I think most of us have, particularly in high school. High school romances are one of the most discussed and portrayed rights of passage, and I think this haiku does a very accurate portrayal of these moments. Mark