PACE Global Haiku • January 2009
Dr. Randy Brooks

Unmatched Chairs

haiku by
Sue James

Before taking the Spring 2009 PACE Global Haiku class, I had only a passing knowledge of what a haiku is. I was pleasantly surprised to discover the strict 3 verses with a 5-7-5 syllable pattern had long since evolved into many different rhythms and forms. It was interesting seeing that the beginning of the evolution had its roots in the 17th Century writings of a Japanese haiku poet, Matsuo Basho. Gratefully, Matsuo also helped the topics of everyday man and his emotions be considered acceptable for haiku. This allowed people from all over the world to be able to write haiku from the perspective of their vistas and their societies.
When writing a haiku, getting something on paper is half the battle, then tweaking it into what you want follows naturally.

The professor, Dr. Randy Brooks, brought explanations and enthusiasm for the craft to all the students including myself. He encouraged each of us to look for all the levels of meaning by slowly read the works of established poets as well as fellow classmates. Dr. Brooks gave us the confidence to write without fear of being wrong. My classmates were equally supportive and positive in their comments to one another.

To assemble the work, I first put together every haiku I had written over the several weeks of class. Reading through all of them several times, I made changes to the ones that were too wordy, gave too much away or felt awkward. Now with the corrected versions, I read through again, looking carefully at each to see if I liked what it said, the meaning it emitted and the emotional aura. At this point I rejected the haiku that did not feel right.

I have put together this collection of what I consider to be the best haiku from the assignments given. The haiku have been placed in an order that suggests the flow of my life.

The title, “Unmatched Chairs” is from my haiku:

unmatched chairs
around the table
elbow to elbow

which means to me that we do not all have to be alike in order to be part of a group. It also implies that no one is turned away, in that when an unexpected person shows up, a chair is scrounged from another room and pulled into the group to make them welcome. We should all be welcoming to one another.

mom irons
our Sunday best
. . . skinned knees

tying the strings
of a checkered apron
as the book remembers

crockery jar…
only shadows remain
on parchment

unmatched chairs
around the table
elbow to elbow

snow fall
through the window
soapsuds

wrinkled fingers
squeaking the dishes
alone again

broom leaning
behind the door
weary

as our feet push
the chain creaks
heads lean together

tag dangles
from the cup
. . . resting

faded wagon
with squeaking wheels
acorns

power bill
I lower the thermostat
one more degree

a patch on the elbow
of the sweater I pull close
fireplace crackles

following footprints
through the snow
backwards

drop on the end
of an icicle
waiting