Global Haiku • Fall 2025 |
|
• Reader Response Essay: Dr. Randy Brooks' Haiku Strategy Tactics Beyond Letters • Reflection on Reflection: • |
Eye Contact by I believe the best haiku to be those that stem from personal experience, but are relatable to a large swath of people. Stories are often so focused on the irregular or extreme that we forget to stop and appreciate the common things and experiences we find around us. Haiku is a place where these experiences can be shared, and where the average reigns above the unusual. By appealing to common senses or scenarios, I hope my haiku not only set a scene, but cause people to search through their own memories to find matching instances of their own. I chose to include my haiku “Eye Contact” in the title because it can relate to so many different experiences and be interpreted in different ways by so many people. Eye contact is an almost-universal human experience that can be good or bad. Such experiences are what I hope to encapsulate in the majority of my haiku. |
eye contact If I was to provide a haiku of my own that breaks the 5-7-5 rule for the better, it would be this one. This haiku instead follows a 3-2-3 format, and I think it is incredible in how it can get a story across in so few syllables. In fact, I am especially proud of how multiple stories can be gleaned in these few words. Are the haiku author and the other person strangers? Shy romantics? Enemies? The tale that this haiku tells is almost entirely based on who is reading it. The combination of so few words and multiple interpretations gives this haiku the extra spice that sets it apart from my others that made it both end up as one of my five favorites, as well as the haiku I named my collection after. Asa Pilger, Fall 2025 |
water lapping rocks Out of all the haiku I have written, this one is my absolute favorite. As I’ve stated several times, I think good haiku are relatable and come from personal experience. This haiku does both of those, but also appeals to the senses as we have been instructed to do so in class. In this case, the haiku primarily appeals to the sense of hearing, and I believe this to be one of the strongest appeals to the senses I’ve ever written. I find it very easy to put myself in the scene and hear exactly what the haiku is describing. This haiku doesn’t experiment with strange forms of spacing, line use or any other odd diction, which I’ve commented on extensively, but I think there is a beauty in its simplicity that makes it my favorite. Asa Pilger, Fall 2025 |
argument in the car Would it be a tell of my own hubris if I said I liked this haiku more after other students said they liked it? Whether it is or isn’t, I think it says something important about haiku as a whole: sharing haiku is just as important as reading and writing it. I originally didn’t intend on including this haiku anywhere, since I disliked the memory it brought up, but as I’ve read it more and more, and other students have pointed it out, I’ve begun to appreciate its value as a haiku. It tells a definable story, appeals to the senses, and is easy for people to come up with related experiences to. There have been several other haiku throughout the semester, whether they be in kukai or matching contests, that I’ve glossed over and only appreciated the beauty, humor, or insight of once someone else brings it up, and this haiku is a prime example of that. Sometimes, we only see the good in something once we get another set of eyes on it. Asa Pilger, Fall 2025 |
playhouse When I first wrote this haiku, I was sitting at my desktop screen, looking out the window to spot something to write a haiku about. My eyes landed on the obvious playhouse that had been there for as long as I could remember, and this haiku was born. Nobody had played in that playhouse for the longest time—aside from a singular cousin who quickly discovered it was structurally unsound after stomping a hole through the floor—but it still stood as a testament to both me and my sister’s childhood, no matter how many years passed. That was until about a month later, when my mom and dad decided to finally take it down and toss it into the firepit. I found it funny that, just after including it in a creative project, the house was finally removed, and it serves as a reminder that while physical objects may not be eternal, the thoughts and memories of people can be, as evidenced by this very haiku. Asa Pilger, Fall 2025 |
staring at an old picture |
thanksgiving dinner |
tree in the front yard |
fireplace burning bright |
graffiti-covered wall |
graveyard |
© 2025, Randy Brooks • Millikin University
All rights returned to authors upon publication.