EN340
/ IN350 Global Haiku Tradition
Dr. Randy Brooks
Spring 2003 |
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Personal
Best
Haiku
by
Erin
Osmus
After
completing my personal best collection, I have come to realize
a few things. The first is that I am not as affiliated with
nature as I once thought. I was always of the mind that
a good nature haiku was what I enjoyed reading and writing
the most. After compiling my own work, I noticed I had barely
any haiku relating to nature at all. It was the senses and
emotions of life that I enjoyed the most. I have a strong
love for colors and the emotions they can evoke in a haiku.
For instance, the tranquility of blue or the loneliness
of black.
I
also noted that I enjoyed describing emotions like a deep
seeded love, lust and desire, embarrassment, content and
tranquility, and finally hatred. These subjects appeal to
me because they can relate to everyone, even if the haiku
is personal to only me.
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After
completing this semester, I find that I have developed
a better idea of my writing. I know what I would like
to pursue and how I can go about doing so. I have also
learned the skeletal framework and philosophy of American
and Japanese haiku, but with enough freedom to go my own
way. I find haiku to be yet another outlet for my emotions.
Erin
Osmus
Reader's
Response
yellowed
love letters
wrapped in a ribbon
stuffed in a drawer
I
responded to this one quite a bit, it reminds me of life.
A momento to remember a certain moment, but the sentiments
attached to that moment or the member of it fades and
we are forced to push it aside and forget the spirit
and vitality it once held for us. Actually this haiku
reminded me of a poem I read last semester for my Asian
Humanities Japan class:
A
thing that fades
With no outward sign
Is the flower
Of the heart of man
In this world
The
poem is by Ono no Komachi, I feel Erin's haiku invokes
a similar response in the reader.
your
eyes follow
the amber wave
between my shoulder blades
finger
combing my hair
I lean back
into your body
I
have to compare this two haiku together since they seem
to go together quite well. The read gets the sense that
the unnamed figure of the lover in both haiku is the same
person, especially since both use the motif of hair in
their composition. The use of hair also reflects the writers
own pride in her hair, something which is a common theme
in Japanese classic (like The Tale of Genji, and The Pillow
Bookwell kept hair reflect refinement and good breeding).
I must say the two lines that really grabbed me were "I
lean back / into your body." They not only set the
mood and intimacy of the scene but also paint a picture
of the couple relaxing into one another and at ease in
their closeness.
Valentines
a rouge heart
on the rim of my glass
I
have to say the first two lines don't particularly grab
me as anything special- I fear the use of the words "valentines"
and "heart" a a little too kitsch (especially
in combination with one another) and the use of the word
"rouge" forced in conjunction with the aforementioned
words. However what pulls it together is the last lineit
gives the reader the notion that the writer is drinking
their heart. It's a lonely image, as if the writer is
alone on Valentine's Day in a bar drinking down the bitter
taste of their loneliness, and their aching heart. The
heart taints the flavor of the alcohol as well as the
day (a day that should feel like any other, but isn't
if there is no one to share it with).
Megan
Elise McFarlane
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Alone
I sit
bourbon . . .
no ice.
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First
spring day
I grimace
white winter legs
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yellowed
love letters
wrapped in a ribbon
stuffed in a drawer
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Finger
combing my hair
I lean back
into your body
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Valentines
a rouge heart
on the rim of the glass
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over
blueberry pie
she gives me
mother's keepsake
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your
eyes follow
the amber wave
between my shoulder blades
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You
cannot describe the man
without describing the setting.
Somewhere deep in the hills,
off an ordinary dusty road,
lives a man. He has raised
two sons to men, and put
the third in the ground.
He has lived his life from
town to town as only migrant
workers can. Every day he
goes into the fields and
he strings barbwire around
his land. His hands are
so thick and calloused that
not even the barbs can cut
through. Every night he
surrounds himself with his
family to play a round of
cards and hunt down the
flies that sneak in through
the screen door. And no
matter how many years he
has left, he will live and
die in those mountains.
family
card night
granny deals another
slice of pineapple turnover
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past
bedtime
I snuggle closer
to Mother's heart
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©2003
Randy Brooks, Millikin University, Decatur, Illinois || all rights
reserved for original authors
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