Selected Haiku
by

Amy Cassity

Global Haiku Tradition
Millikin University, Summer 2001

My experiences in global haiku this semester have taught me that the most important thing haiku does is convey a specific emotion by establishing the time, place, and situation of a specific moment in time using as few words as humanly possible. The best haiku are those that can create an emotional bond with the widest audience. Oftentimes, during our class workshops, certain haiku would be discussed less favorably, not because they were poorly written, but because we as readers couldn't relate to the situation presented by the author.

One of the elements said to be necessary in a haiku is the season word. After reading and writing many, many haiku by many different authors, I have found that a season word may not always be needed to make a haiku "complete". I think that the power of haiku to capture the reader in a given moment, to convey emotion, is more important than the presence of a season word that may just be a waste of words.

I have written most of my haiku based on personal experience. Some of my haiku come from childhood memories of my grandma's house, while others come from more recent experiences, such as softball, Model Illinois Government, my daily run in the park, or my trip to St. Louis. Some of my haiku are based on a combination of experiences, simply meant to convey a specific emotion. While I try to include season words in my haiku, as is customary of traditional Japanese haiku, not all of them contain one. With or without a season word, I hope you enjoy my collection of haiku, drawn from the emotion of personal experience.


Summer twilight . . .
Grandma's raspy laughter
catches on cigarette smoke

(Illinois Times, July 26, 2001)


governor's ball
indeed you do
flirt
with your eyes


spring convention
shaking hands
with the man of my dreams

 

 

midnight
the only sound—
grandfather clock ticking


on the swings
touching the leaves
with our toes

 

 

drifting to sleep . . .
the lull of laughter
card players in the kitchen


waking from a dream
I still feel the warmth
his hand holding mine

 

 

a lullabye
of thunder and rain—
the steady breath of sleep


Players Bar
My! What a lovely . . .
Ring

 

 

two sisters
sharing secrets . . .
dawn


Christmas day
without asking
Grandma plays with my hair

 

 

Sunday morning
father and daughter
washing her car


lemonade stand
storm clouds pass overhead
not a drop spilled

 

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