Haibun Kukai 2 Favorites- Global Haiku, Fall 2018
Stay in Touch I park my car and check the time on my phone then the text message, though I have already memorized the text conversation. “Let’s meet there at 4:15pm!” the text reads; the clock reads 4:05pm. I tap my foot nervously as I observe each car that pulls into the lot, but then I realize: I don’t know what her car looks like. I turn my air vent in my direction when I hear a ding. “Here!” the text reads. I feel my fingers begin to tingle as I open the car door and walk towards the coffee shop. I look around and see only strange faces until the door opens behind me. I turn and look at the face of a friend I once knew very well. She smiles and I instantly feel the weight in my chest vanish. We stand in line and make small talk, which is the most discussion we have had in years. Once we get our drinks, we sit and discuss what is going on in our lives. She mentions places we used to go together and people I know through her. I miss her family . . . I wonder if she misses mine. We talk about where we are both going to college and I find out that she is going to major in Mathematics; she’s going to be great that. Our conversation drifts to what happened between us. Why did she stop texting me back? Why did you say that about to our friends? What did I do? I give a sad smile and tears well up in her eyes as she vaguely tells me that she was going through a lot. Our cups were empty long before we stood up and walked out the door. I give her a hug and say we should stay in touch and she agrees. I tell her that I am really happy we did this and she agrees. We walk in opposite directions once again to our cars.
Isabella Spiritoso ••••• ••••• •• The haibun was ironic because the couple talked for hours yet there was so much left unsaid. The words hanging in the air are words neither will touch even though they are gnawing at the author. We liked the writing because it exemplifies how they went in opposite directions in life yet they still have faith in them. Alissa Kanturek, Zach McReynolds, Jordan Niebuhr, and Mary Callaghan, Fall 2018 We really liked this haiku because of the sense of reunion that comes along with this haiku. It could be old friends or maybe even old lovers and we like that it is open for interpretation. Also, a lot of first dates happen at coffee shops so it could be the place of their first date. There is a lot of intimacy that comes along with a small coffee shop. Naomi Klingbeil, Logan Bader, Haley Vemmer, and Sydney Rudny, Fall 2018 This haibun reminded us of old high school friends we slowly drifted from, which many people can relate to. When we get together with those friends, we talk for hours about the good and the bad. The last line says, “We walk in opposite directions once again to our cars”, which subtly highlights how they already parted ways and that will not change right now. Rachel Pevehouse, Hannah Ottenfield, Hannah Haedike, and Sophie Kibiger, Fall 2018 |
Early to Bed A girl in a single studio apartment turns on some music and starts dancing around alone starting to ready. It is a Friday night and she is feeling good. She plugs in her curling iron and starts to give herself a new look. She has new clothes on that she hasn't been able to wear out yet and she's excited. She puts on a fresh face of makeup and gives herself a little spray of that expensive perfume he got her a couple months back. She's a little sad because it makes her think of him but she has to move on. She stops to look in the mirror and feels good about herself and her style. She texts her friends asking what the plans are for the night because she's ready to go out and have fun. After a few minutes, two of her friends reply, "Hey sorry we have a double date planned tonight." The next friend replies "Hey sorry I can't make it tonight!" The pattern repeats and her confidence slowly and slowly starts to diminish. She takes off her clothes and slips into a sweatshirt and shorts. She passes the mirror again but this time it's different. "Jokes on you" she tells the pretty face looking back at her in the mirror. She thinks about texting him . . . instead she decides to call it a night and head to bed early, by now she's used of it.
Sydney Rudny ••••• ••••• • We enjoyed this one because the story is relatable, and we like the images is creates. We liked the irony of the image of a girl in fully done hair and makeup, but wearing a sweatshirt and shorts. We especially enjoyed the haiku that went with this story, as beginning and ending with the word "maybe" made the poem sound repetitive, and as if it should be read on loop, just as the narrator says "the pattern repeats". Isabella Spiritoso, Melanie Wilson, and Daria Koon, Fall 2018 It is in third person and well written. Reminds us of the Liza Minnelli song. It is relatable, she is comfortable being alone. Content with being isolated and by herself which is something everyone should learn. Also relatable because often times we don't feel like being extroverted and going out to be with people. Sometimes it is best to stay home and do things your truly enjoy instead of trying to be with people and hope for their approval. The isolation recharges us and makes you ready to take on the next day. Alissa Kanturek, Zach McReynolds, Jordan Niebuhr, and Mary Callaghan, Fall 2018 This haibun slowly picks away at the girl’s hope and happiness as her friends cancel. The last line of the haiku (“... by now, she’s used to it.”) really hit us in our hearts. The haiku also evokes a sense of hope, which heightens the sense of loneliness of the girl. The haiku’s use of “maybe” twice gives it a somber tone since it seems more doubtful the second time. It also leaves the ending open to interpretation. Rachel Pevehouse, Hannah Ottenfield, Hannah Haedike, and Sophie Kibiger, Fall 2018
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Gloves Too Big I remember my sisters and I playing outside in the snow. One year we got a really good snow, one that stuck around for more than a couple of days, and we spent a lot of time outside playing it: making snowmen, going sledding, having snowball fights, etc. When we were younger, we would always get super excited when it snowed like this because my dad would take us tubing behind his snowmobile in the field behind our house. One time when he took us snow tubing, I fell off and ripped one of my gloves, so when we got back to our house, my dad gave me his snow gloves to wear. I was probably eight or nine at the time, so the gloves were way too big for my hands and extended all the way up to my elbows. My sister threw a snowball at me, and since my gloves were so big, I basically had to use them like a shovel because the fingers were pretty much useless.
Haley Vemmer ••• We thought this one was the best because of the relationship created between the daughters and the father, and the love that can be conveyed simply by giving someone your gloves. The joy that was felt during this memory was another reason why we were so drawn to it. We also loved the haiku that accompanied it--the comparison of the snow to a blanket truly conveyed the warmth from the memory into the haiku. Isabella Spiritoso, Melanie Wilson, and Daria Koon, Fall 2018 |
MIRROR The creamy marble countertop is marred with streaks of brown. I gently dab at them with wet tissue, it spreads and runs across the counter into the sink. I look up, making eye contact with someone in the mirror that I don't quite recognize. This girl has blue eyes, like me, but they're more grey than mine. They're cloudy, like there's a barrier between her and the world. Her hair is slicked back and dark, hair dye leaks onto her forehead and ears. I raise my hand, as she does. I watch as she wipes at her forehead until the skin becomes clean again. Of course this girl is me, but she feels light years away. This girl just graduated high school, she just received her driver's license, she left the boy who wanted to give her the world. These things feel like stories that I watched on TV as a child, as I imagined what it would be like to be 17 and on top of the world. The girl in the mirror has a tear falling down her cheek. I reach up and wipe it away. She's missing her childhood. But she also was going places. She had so many good things going for her. She's going to be great. I turn around and begin to run the bathwater. I wait until it warms, I kneel down and stick my head under the faucet. I watch as the water becomes murky, swirling down the drain. The girl in the mirror watches as we become one.
Hannah Ottenfeld ••••• ••••• • We chose this haibun because the imagery was fabulous "the creamy marble countertop is marred with streaks of brown." It instantly brought us in as readers because we could see every detail. We also found that, in the haiku, the word choice of "mold" was interesting because of the positive vibe found at the end of entry. We loved that the mold aspect of the haiku created something more realistic out of an idealized leaf—something that happens naturally as we grow up. Isabella Spiritoso, Melanie Wilson, and Daria Koon, Fall 2018 Descriptive, we like the writing of the haiku and extended memory. The haiku is different from the memory. It transported us to the location. Alissa Kanturek, Zach McReynolds, Jordan Niebuhr, and Mary Callaghan, Fall 2018 We liked this one because the use of black mold made us think of growing up and missing childhood. The mold represents them growing up and thinking of simpler times. The imagery was excellent and really created a beautiful image in our minds. We really pictured the red autumn leave laying on the floor of the forest with the mold on it as it has been for a long time. Just like a memory, something you'll never forget. Naomi Klingbeil, Logan Bader, Haley Vemmer, and Sydney Rudny, Fall 2018 |
Morning Rush Mom and I are extremely close. Not only that, but we look so much like each other that people have thought that we were sisters. I remember mom and I getting ready together in the morning. In her bathroom there's a double sink with a long countertop, so there's always multiple people getting ready for the day at one time. I will still be doing my hair as mom gets out of the shower, and she never fails to say, "you're gonna have to move over! I continue to get ready as she continues her daily routine—brushes teeth and hair, blow dries, flat-irons hair, etc. As we look in the big mirror together, she makes fun of the fact that she is tanner than me—of course it's a competition every summer to see who can get tanner. Joke's on her—I won this time. Mom asks me to do her eyeshadow, and I say no. We light-heartedly bicker until I, per usual, give in. As we finish up getting ready, she looks in the mirror for about a minute and shakes her head. Of course, I know what she's thinking--she can't believe how much we look alike. Leave it to my mom to finish off by saying, "how did you get so lucky to look just like me? I laugh, shake my head, and leave for work.
Jordan Niebuhr ••••• •• We all thought that the storyline and haiku under this title was very cute and adorable. Within the storyline, the playful bonding between a mother and her daughter hit us right in the feels. Even as they are busy getting ready for work, they make time for each other and make their morning routine fun. This was heartfelt, pure, and just gosh darn sweet. And the haiku, again, signifies that even though their morning routines are busy, they make the time to giggle, bond, and help each other get ready while also being playful and making each other smile. The descriptive wording of "soft giggles" contrasts "morning rush" so effectively, as well. Jenesi Moore, Emily Sullins, and Isabella Loutfi , Fall 2018 We like the description of her mom's hair as it really accentuated the beauty of her mom. More specifically when she speaks of her mom in her memory, and about how they look like one another, it's remarkable that her mother has caramel hair and it reminds us of youthfulness. Furthermore, we like that they are giggling as it brings us to simpler times spent with our mothers. It's also nice that her mother made time to giggle with her in the morning before rushing off to work and her daughter rushing off to school. We really like this haiku and value the relationship between the author and her mother. Naomi Klingbeil, Logan Bader, Haley Vemmer, and Sydney Rudny, Fall 2018 |
Gray Marriage There were betrayals, infidelities and heartaches, but at the end of the day they always came back to each other. This couple was fighting constantly. Fighting about the little things, like where to go for vacations, what the kids should wear, how the table should be set, and went to bed almost every night angry at the other, but at least they were together. They had trouble staying faithful to one another. They would get in a fight over proper dishwashing methods, which lead to an argument about work ethic and contribution, and the wife would go blow off steam at the bar and spend the night somewhere else. The next month, the husband would have a little too much to drink at a work function and end up in the back room with Stacy from accounting. But they always returned to each other. They were married for 56 years before the husband passed. On his deathbed, they did not speak of the many moments of betrayal that lay between them. They had a mutual understanding and bond over the situation. The husband passed and only then does the regret of the wife begin to set in. She realizes that she missed bickering over the dishes or the trash, and the mystery and romance is lost from her life. In the end, she always cared about him and loved him.
Melanie Wilson ••••• •• The storyline and haiku are heart wrenching, and the haiku follows an unexpected pattern. The first line of the haiku describes curtains swaying in the wind, which many people would take as a peaceful image, maybe describing a nice spring day with the windows open. Then, we read the second line, "knocking over". It makes you rethink the first line. It changes the sweet perspective that the first line makes you envision. We don't often see curtains that are light enough to sway knocking things over. And then as we approach the last line "the yellow flowers," the wording becomes so important. The fact that the flowers are yellow may signify happiness/friendship, as yellow flowers are often associated with. The fact that they are being knocked over may signify the end of a happy time. The end of happiness, which ties along with the strained relationship between a husband and wife as described in the text. Their constant bickering and infidelities marks the end of happiness in their marriage. Jenesi Moore, Emily Sullins, and Isabella Loutfi , Fall 2018 We enjoyed the haibun because it highlighted dark and sad moments of relationships, which are just as real as the happy ones. It made us feel hopeless, which the author accomplished through many details. Our team also enjoyed the haiku that accompanied the story because it seems mundane but evokes sadness. We interpreted it as a metaphor: the wind knocks down flowers, which could represent happiness or the relationship. It also evoked a very clear image. Rachel Pevehouse, Hannah Ottenfield, Hannah Haedike, and Sophie Kibiger, Fall 2018 |
Rain Rain Go Away This haiku reminded of me playing at my daycare center as a kid. We had a playground and field outside that we would play on every day. Obviously, when it would rain, we had to play inside. I remember playing inside, playing board games or reading or watching a Disney movie, while it poured on our grass field and plastic slides. As soon as it stopped raining, we would rally together to convince our teachers to let us go outside. The wet ground and mud did not bother us. Our adorable pleas and begs did not always work, but when they did, we played with more enthusiasm than ever. We sometimes had to wipe down the plastic playsets with rags before playing, but we did not care. If it rained all day and playing outside was not an option one day, the next day we were more excited to play outside than ever.
Rachel Pevehouse ••• We just thought this story and haiku was freaking cute. It filled our thoughts with little kids in yellow, blue, and red rain boots so excited to be splashing in puddles. The smiles on their faces are infectious and their innocence and sweetness is palpable. They play together, so grateful that their teachers allowed them to play outside after it stopped raining. This is a very cute story and haiku. Jenesi Moore, Emily Sullins, and Isabella Loutfi , Fall 2018 |
© 2018, Randy Brooks • Millikin University
All rights returned to authors upon publication.