Global Haiku • Fall 2018
Dr. Randy Brooks

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SophieKibiger
Sophie Kibiger

Sophie Kibiger is a Sophomore double major in English Writing and Theatre from Anoka, Minnesota. She has been writing poetry for seven years, but this semester was her first time writing haiku. Her haiku are often about her own experiences and emotions, and they tell stories from her everyday life. Her favorite haiku to write are those about her experiences as a queer woman navigating romantic relationships, because she feels that queer romance is under-represented and should be more normalized. Her second favorite haiku to write are “catku” because, well, cats.

all of my moons

by
Sophie Kibiger

for Madi

Introduction

Throughout the semester, I have used haiku as a way to express my most genuine self. I consider myself to be a kind, loving, and funny person, and I feel that my haiku definitely show that. But, like many others, I do have times where I feel darker emotions such as sadness, anger, and loneliness. I have used haiku to express these emotions and to help myself better understand them. I have chosen the haiku in this book because I feel they are my most genuine haiku – they are, in short, real. I believe that the best haiku are not just those that paint pretty pictures; they are those that tell stories and make their audience feel something, and these haikus do just that.

Reader's Introduction

Sophie Kibiger’s haiku has an unmistakable voice of a strong young woman in the 21st century. She deals with a wide range of topics prevalent to college students of today. She provides an insightful look into simple details of everyday life. She writes about love and love lost with reverence and grace, and yet tears it down just as easily. The title poem is a perfect example of a modern love poem. She manages to write politically, humorously, heartbreakingly, and everything in between. She is certainly a name to be on the lookout for” ~Hannah Ottenfeld

See Sophie's essay "The Exhaustion of Humanity Within the Haiku of Dee Evetts".


woman
keys between her fingers
afraid of man


rising up         before the sun
I swipe right
with an empty heart


writer’s block
my creative mind
begs for sleep


warm rays of sunlight
a soft kick
the beginning of motherhood


ride on the golf cart
grandpa says more
than I’ve ever heard him say


red ink signature
on the divorce papers
it used to be my favorite color


breezy Tuesday
old friends giggle
over caramel macchiatos


stepping on the scale
adding fifty more sit ups
to the daily routine


snowy parking lot
raccoon raccoon and kitten
eating a churro


dirty hand on my thigh
mama didn’t tell me
boys lie


midnight milkshakes
we talk for hours
under dim diner light


car ride home
wondering when
I’ll see her again


first winter snow
stars that hold the light
that once was hers

 


Wallowing in afterglow.
If I am to be Saturn,
she will be all of my moons.


end of semester
returning home
with half of myself


august sunset
working up the courage
to hold her hand


Women’s March
child in a pink hat
fights for her future


panic attack
tearing my room apart
over something replaceable


family visit
looking forward
to hugging my brother

 


lying through a fake smile
I tell my therapist
I’m good


Christmas eve
one of the presents
barks


written love letter
I don’t remember her dotting her i’s
that way


after the breakup
I catch your stare
it's not the same


halloween party
losing the other half
of the couple’s costume


trapped in bed
the tree outside my window
changes colors

 


after the rape
she whispers "I love you".
          I don't say it back. 


rainy day
thinking of what
we could have been


after the proposal
the engagement ring
too small


even when we kiss
empty space
between us

 


nighttime whispers
his daughter asks
for one more story


new york subway
a hand on my ass
that doesn’t belong


school bus
cracking the window
to hear the church bells


after the Kavanaugh hearing
I tell my therapist
about the rape


election day
she gets “feminist”
tattooed on her wrist


Thanksgiving
hearing the news
of my cousin’s suicide

 


long-time crush
she matches with me
as a joke


brown eyes reflect mine
I think we’d make
a nice pair


black friday
finding out the funeral
will be on my birthday


friendsgiving
splitting the cost
of rotisserie chicken

 


moonrise
do you think we could go back
to the way it was before?


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