Haiku Kukai 07
Global Haiku • Millikin University • Spring 2022
1 telephone wire |
2 crackling bonfire |
3 unraveled lunar moth Emma Antonelli (9) |
4 echoed squawking Emma Antonelli (3) |
5 bathroom talk Audrey Button (7) |
6 doja cat Audrey Button (12) This haiku is just so fun! It captures a playful energy that you need to have before going out and partying. Doja’s music puts me in the mood to DANCE, and the author clearly understands that feeling, I also liked that each line got progressively shorter syllable-wise. We end with only one syllable: the word ass. It seems as though the music takes over the words. You don’t need them anymore. You just need to dance. Kelsey Crotz, Spring 2022 Exactly. If Doja Cat is playing, you best believe that the besties and I WILL be shaking ass! Her music is incredible and it just takes over your body – whether you’re screaming the lyrics, straight vibing, or shaking ass. I have to resist the urge to shake ass when she plays and I am driving. Doja Cat is the new it girl. She is the moment. Jas Humphrey, Spring 2022 |
7 stepping outside Madyson Fritch (11) I really enjoyed this haiku because although it is incredibly abstract, I found myself connecting to it a lot. When I read this haiku, I immediately get the image of therapy, and just sitting on the couch, talking with a therapist, stepping outside of yourself to heal yourself. There’s some kind of odd beauty behind therapy (which is something that I have just recently taken up), and I think it’s almost brilliant to flip therapy on its head and almost physicalize this very internal experience. Alex Saviano, Spring 2022 I liked this haiku because I am finding that I can get too caught up in my head, which can send me on a downward spiral. Especially with it being towards the end of my senior year, I sometimes need to remind myself to stop taking everything so seriously and just enjoy what is around me and not think too hard about what is coming next. Audrey Button, Spring 2022 This has to be one of my all time favorite Kukai haiku! We often – too often – forget that giving ourself space from ourself is actually so important, too. It’s so refreshing to reset every now and then – be it a 7 hour long nap, allowing yourself a day of doing absolutely nothing without feeling guilty, or whatever have you. Self care is more than physical care. It’s allowing your body to rest, too. Mandy Thrasher, Spring 2022 |
8 an unbuttoned silk shirt |
9 staring competition, Nick Canton (10) |
10 reading |
11 the cord unwinds |
12 you’ll only grow Mandy Thrasher (10) |
13 bubble gum in a dish Camryn Wagner (7) This immediately made me think of “bubble gum bubble gum in a dish… how many pieces do you wish? …” – every mantra of all of us 20 something-year-olds when we were in elementary school. It brought so many playground memories back. It was light, reminiscent, and childlike, but the next two lines brought out an added seriousness and weight that darkened the mood. Darkened here wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, but it took away that childlike light that illuminated the memory before. We were growing up and didn’t even realize it. Mandy Thrasher, Spring 2022 |
14 one more sip Kelsey Crotz (7) I read this one as sitting at a party and seeing someone you do not like walks in and just having to take a couple more sips so that you can still enjoy your time still. Camryn Wagner, Spring 2022 |
15 letting go |
16 streetlight buzzing |
17 footprints |
18 liquid burning |
19 bouncy deck Andrew Tufano (7) |
20 heels on Andrew Tufano (4) |
21 snapping my fingers Alex Saviano I like snapping my fingers. Once I learned at 16, I unconsciously snap randomly. There’s sort of a softness to a snap compared to a mousetrap snap. It’s as if the snaps are leading up tot the mousetrap, causing suspension. Maybe not a literal mousetrap but a trap or situation they ran into. I love the audio imagery with consistent similar sounds. Nick Canton, Spring 2022 |
22 red cloak Alex Saviano (3) |
23 bursting random squawks Amanda Handegan (3) I liked this haiku because it’s as if the person is the bird themselves, but also becoming the squawk itself. This person is not claiming to be the bird but the squawk itself, claiming themselves as a song. And bird songs are usually beautiful, so they are also claiming themselves as beautiful. Nick Canton, Spring 2022 |
24 steamed buns Andrew Tufano (4) |
25 little white lies Amanda Handegan (7) |
26 tongues dancing Amanda Handegan (5) |
27 locked in the present Amanda Handegan (8) Sometimes, it feels as if the world stops when I am with my partner, and it is only the two of us. No one else exists and there is this breathless feeling. We have to take advantage of any of the time we are given together because of the long distance, so it is comforting to break from that reality and immediately lock in with each other. Jas Humphrey, Spring 2022 |
28 above the highway roar |
29 crowded supermarket Emma Antonelli (4) |
30 closing the gap |
31 snoring old pug Emma Antonelli (5) |
32 onion grass Sydney Sinks (8) There is so much onion grass by my house and I remember picking it as a kid with my friends and how the smell would stay on your hands long after you washed them. It is not the most pleasant smell so I think of this haiku like someone who you despise is coming up to you and you can just feel their presence before they even say anything, and you know whatever comes out of their mouth, you are going to despise. Audrey Button, Spring 2022 |
33 bedroom curtain flutters |
34 porch night Andrew Tufano (6) |
35 april breeze |
36 cracks in the wood |
37 grey-red fox Alex Saviano (3) |
38 streetlight |
39 running the wheel |
40 crippled leg Alex Saviano (4) I know, this looks horrible that it’s one of my favorites – but the writing is so good! The scene is extremely vivid to me. He chose just enough detail without inserting too much detail. I picture a wild coyote, trotting down an old gravel road. There’s an older farmer perched on his front porch, taking aim at the wounded animal. He probably caught him in the chicken coop or harassing the ducks. He had to finish him off. It’s not ‘good’, but it’s good writing and storytelling. All in three lines. Mandy Thrasher, Spring 2022 |
41 twisting your words Audrey Button (13) I really liked this haiku because it was written in such a truthful way. At this tiny school, drama is bound to happen and so many people get involved. Sides are usually chosen, and the war begins. The number of times my words have been twisted in an argument is insane. I love how at the end of this haiku it says we can’t see straight. Usually by the end of an argument, both sides realize it was all a big misunderstanding and they lost sight of themselves along the way. I really just related to this one and it really hit deep. Andrew Tufano, Spring 2022 I read this one as being in an argument with a significant other and twisting each other’s words so much that it is impossible to even communicate anymore. Camryn Wagner, Spring 2022 |
42 new moon Audrey Button (8) |
43 the big giant Emma Antonelli (6) |
44 grazing meadow Emma Antonelli (5) |
45 floating autumn leaf Emma Antonelli (5) This haiku is incredibly nostalgic to me. Going to my grandparent’s house and recognizing my favorite smells as I walk in is so incredibly special. We live very far away now, and I miss walking into their house so much. This reminds me of when I would bike home from school on a cold autumn day, and desperately want something warm. Their house was closer than my house, so I would often stop in and say hello. There would always be some kind of treat there waiting to warm me up. I felt safe and taken care of, and this haiku really captures that feeling. Kelsey Crotz, Spring 2022 |
46 grey ocean sky |
47 specks of dust floating |
48 Church bells ringing |
49 he launches his floppy hair Amanda Handegan (9) I loved this haiku because I am gay, and I always start to fall for a guy if he does something cute. The idea of a man with long, floppy, and curly hair describes the exact description of a man I can see myself with. I also just loved how sometimes we as humans can react to things without even realizing. I can picture me or any of my friends being at a bar and a boy, they didn’t notice at first, does something so basic. The simple lip bite can make you notice this man and it does something to you. The smile is such a cute and genuine reaction to slide in this haiku because as much as we get older each day, we still have our tendencies to act as children. This one was so perfect and made me think of me and my friends. Andrew Tufano, Spring 2022 |
50 searching or maybe concocting Amanda Handegan (4) In class, this haiku was read and interpreted with a very positive and almost comedic spin, thinking that “oh this person is too good to be true” and the sparkle comes from the realization that there’s nothing wrong with the person. However, I recently got out of a very toxic relationship, so I’ve been seeing things very differently. The way I read the poem was exactly in the sense that the speaker is in a bad relationship that they can’t quite comprehend, and that they are trying to find some reason for the other person to be “wrong” to give justification for why the speaker should break up with them. This is exactly what I was going through earlier this semester. I knew something was off about the relationship and that it needed to end, so I was searching high and low for some kind of reason (for something to be wrong with him) so I had a reason to end things. As for the twinkle in the eye, I almost see that as like the catch of “oh, I know exactly what to use so I can get out of this”. Maybe this is incredibly too personal and missing the mark entirely, but it just connected to my life in that way. Alex Saviano, Spring 2022 |
51 sun beams |
52 under my waterfall Amanda Handegan (4) |
53 yelling out Kelsey Crotz (5) |
54 rickety bridge Kelsey Crotz (4) |
55 my 21st birthday |
56 soft cloudy sky |
57 empty desk Emma Antonelli (9) |
58 sinking Geo Tapia (2) |
59 dull thud Geo Tapia (6) |
60 the loneliness |
61 she looks over her shoulder |
62 the sun shines Mandy Thrasher (8) |
63 wishing Kelsey Crotz (5) |
© 2022, Randy Brooks • Millikin University
All rights returned to authors upon publication.