Seeds in the Air: Selected Haiku
by

Mark Grizzard

Global Haiku Tradition
Millikin University, Spring 2001


Mark Grizzard

 

Mary Gamble
On Grizzard's haiku.

Essay on
Horst Ludwig & George Swede

Web profile on
Horst Ludwig

My experiences in the Global Haiku course have been a real introduction for me to what contemporary haiku is all about. I have been exposed to the masterful origins of the haiku tradition as well as the limits to which modern writers take haiku today. During this education of the artform, I have attempted to discover and continually refine my own personal style as a haiku poet.

We have dealt with an intriguing combination of cultures through haiku, giving respect to the Japanese culture and philosophy that began it while admitting our own immersion in Western society.

In my work I have attempted to learn from both cultures. From the Japanese tradition I have tried to demonstrate a sense of capturing a moment without personal interpretation, and placing that moment in a seasonal, natural setting—from the Western tradition, some creative use of juxtaposition and human reaction that can show the subjective nature of each situation. I do not necessarily accomplish either of these concepts in each of my haiku; I often simply describe a moment that I hope will give the reader, as George Swede puts it, "a sense of awe and wonder (Almost Unseen, front cover)."

My work seems to have an equal mix of real and imagined moments, but I have tried to write so that the separation is indistinguishable. My haiku describe moments that are hopefully concrete enough to stand as real slices of time and experience, yet open-ended enough so that the reader can bring in his or her own interpretation and can possibly relate that moment to his or her own experience.

I sincerely hope that my work is effective in showing people a tiny, beautiful part of the human experience. I look forward to continuing my own study and growth as a haiku poet.

—Mark Grizzard

the princess and the troll
at the tea table
lipstick on her teeth

ping pong game
father and son
forget the curfew debate

Valentine’s Day
cookies
from Mom again

  

 

under a budding maple—
hiding the ring
in the red-checkered blanket

eed catalogs and Thoreau
stacked in the garage—
she rushes off to a meeting

  

 

waiting room—
doing a crossword puzzle
with white knuckles

out of breath
covered in grass and mud—
like old times, bro

  

 

yellow ladybug
rests on my finger
I decide to skip class

three weeks
since graduation—
the papercut has healed

  

 

city park
she studies classifieds
dandelion seeds in the air

discussing the future
on the ride home—
dark summer sky

  

 

©2001 Randy Brooks, Millikin University, Decatur, Illinois || all rights reserved for original authors