Haiku Kukai 1 Results
PACE Global Haiku--Kukai 1, July 2006
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bright flowers Beth Forcum (4) |
sparkling in the light Tina Calhoun (5) Whether the thought is embraced or not, I’m not certain, though I see a man reflecting on the homemaker’s absence. The divorce is final, but the house is a mess. I suppose this could signify freedom to chose how to live, with a sparkling spider’s web, or not. Patricia This is a poem of extremes: sparkling light is cheerful, the spider web is almost eery. Imagine a little dew on the spider web that sparkles in the sunlight. The web, of course, is a trap for its victim but beautiful when adorned by nature with dew. Then, the twist; the 'divorce is final' shocks the reader into the dark side again. Diana |
outside Andrea Salzman (7) This reminds me of thunderstorms as children when we used to sit on the couch together and listen to the thunderstorms. Our lights usually went out and we would sit by candle lights and tell ghosts stories. Sometimes the lights would stay out until morning so we would make sleeping bags out of covers and sleep together until morning. Neisha |
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family dog Christina Sperry I think of a dog’s faithfulness and willingness to follow behind you wherever you go. For a gardener planting the spring crop, this may not be the ideal time for the family pet to be with you. This speaks to me of a family, who recognizes valuable things in life. It also speaks of happiness and a stress free environment. Mary |
searching license plates Elaine Agnew (11) I saw this one as a younger couple newly married. They have just gotten in a huge fight and her husband leaves to blow off some of his anger. Hours have passed by and the young wife is becoming frantic because he has not returned. She keeps looking outside for his truck to pull in the drive. Finally she decides to venture out on the town and look for him herself. Andrea I see myself in my car, not paying attention to my surroundings, just reading the plate on every passing car. I’m not looking for certain car or color. I know everyone by their license plate. It si actually a family joke that I know so many license plates. I chose this because it is me through and through, and I didn’t even write it. Wendy A woman gets into her car about two in the morning. It is Friday night and her husband has not called. He has been off work for several hours. She knows the bars he frequents. Her gut is aching, and her heart is pounding. She drives through town and her attacks of panic flourish with each red truck. Trying to find him, again, on a Friday night. Tobi Randles |
yellow roses |
first winter Connie Cruz I remembered when I first got married and we moved to Des Moines, IA. We moved in the summer. I was homesick but I really got homesick by winter time. I can remember walking out of our apartment and it had just snowed and I had to scrape my windows so I could go to work. I was very much wishing to be near my family and wanting to be a child again. I was not sure if I liked living so far away from my family and having all of the responsibilities that I had. I loved being married but I could not wait for my husband to finish school so we could move closer to home. Tina I see a young woman maybe around 19 years old at a college. This has been a big adjustment for her, living in a dorm so far away from everything that was familiar. She is heading to class on a cold November morning when it starts to snow. She hadn’t thought about home that day until the snow came. She looks over at her sleeve and can only think of snow fights and building snowmen in her old backyard. She wishes it was Thanksgiving so that she could go home and sleep in her own bed and see her family. She knows that two hours after she would arrive she would want to be back at school, but it would be great to feel at home again if even for just a second. Julie |
gliding along Greg Lock (7) This haiku reminds me of the bike rides my brother; sister and I would take on a hot summer day. We would go on bike rides in the summer, to get out of the house and try to cool off. The house we lived in was an old country home with no air conditioning and on hot still days if you sat inside you could feel the sweat drip down your back with every breath you made. The only ways to get relief from the heat was to go on a bike ride to a creek down the road and go wading. The black tar on the road as we raced to the creek would pop from the blistery of hot summer day. With each pop we would race faster and faster to see who could reach the creek first. What relief we felt playing in the creek. Jacqueline |
sisters huddle |
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old-fashioned oil lamp |
motherly love Wendy Miller (8) I really enjoyed reading this haiku because it reminds me of when I was a child and when we had snow days and no school. My sister and I loved to play outside in the snow. When we got cold, we would come inside, and my mother would always have hot cocoa waiting for us with the little marshmallows. This haiku brings back wonderful memories of my childhood. Chonda |
newborns |
phone rings… Carrie White (8) I saw this one as a young man and he has just met a new girl and gave her his phone number. He is awaiting her call, but of course she has to follow the rules and wait a couple of days, so she doesn’t seem too anxious. The phone rings at the boy’s house and he jumps wondering could that be her. Andrea |
grandma’s cold hand Chonda Chisenall (10) I have a very recent memory in my mind when I read this haiku. I was told that my grandma wasn’t doing very well and they didn’t know if she would come out of an unresponsive state. She had fallen 2 days before and hit her head, which required stitches. I felt like I needed to get to the nursing home and see her, so my husband and I took our girls with us and we were on our way. When we entered the room we found a woman that didn’t resemble my grandma. She was in a bed that lay right on the floor with mats all around, to prevent her from hurting herself again if she tried to get out of bed. She was lying on her side with her head looking upwards. Her eyes were fixated on the ceiling without blinking. Immediately I began to cry, how could this be the grandma that I sat and had conversations with over lunch? This was my Grandma, the woman that I love even more than my own mother, the toughest old bird I had ever seen. I told my husband to take the girls for a walk because I didn’t want them to see their mommy so upset. I knelt down beside her bed and grabbed her cold lifeless hand and began to pray for God to take her home to the man she loves. I was ready to let go of her after I saw her this way. To my amazement my grandma is alive and well today; I still don’t know how she came out of that. She has gone through this process of being unresponsive three times now, and I’m not sure what will ever take her from this world. She is 94 years old and still a tough old bird. Julie When I was 14 my grandma died. She was like a second mother to me. She and my grandpa had helped my parents raise my brother and me since we were babies. My grandma had a special place in my heart and I felt that besides my mom, I was the closest person to her. She went out of her way to make me happy. She did things for the other grandkids too, but she made me feel extra special. The day of her funeral was very tough for me. I had written her a letter and I wanted to put it in her casket with her. So after the services and everyone had left, I went to say my good-byes and give her the letter. I don’t remember what it said, but I do remember putting it in her hand and feeling that the warmth that used to be there was gone. It made me cry harder. I just wanted her to get out of that casket and come home with us. I had a very tough time with this and it took me a long time to get over loosing her. Erica My grandmother had been sick with cancer, and it was taking a toll on her body. One morning, I was called to come over to her house if I wanted to see her alive for the last time. When I arrived all of her children, grandchildren, brother’s, and sister’s where there. I stayed at her side as much as possible providing comfort anyway I could. My last check on her, I entered the room just as her lungs took their last breath and her chest no longer moved. I rubbed her arm, kissed her forehead, and said good-bye. Tamika |
curly hair Christina Sperry (6) My two year old is ready to take a nap. She comes to me carrying her favorite blanket. She wants me to hold her and rock her to sleep. She crawls on my lap, and the two of us fall fast asleep holding each others fingers. Elaine It reminds me of my second foster child. She had lots of curly hair. She did not carry a blanky but had to have a baby in her hands at all times. When she snuggled with me, when we went shopping. I could not even get professional pictures taken unless she had a baby in her hand. It just brought back memories of that sweet child that touched my life for a year and a half. Tina This takes me back in time. My daughter has and still has curly hair. She carried her blanky with her until she was three years old. The blanky symbolized security and warmth. Snuggling with mom provided a safe haven from the cold world outside of the house. I used to read to my child wrapped up and snuggled tightly next to me in bed each night. This was a ritual, which helped us to bond and solidify our relationship. Susan Berroyer This haiku reminds me of my 2yr. old son, he has a blanky given to him at birth. He started to play with it at six month’s and every since then he doesn’t go to sleep without his blanky. He is truly a blanky baby, when he plays he forgets about it but the minute he remembers he starts asking for his blanky and starts to look for it. When he finds it he says “my blanky, oh my blanky” he snuggles with it and smells it and rubs it against his face. It’s just so cute he really loves his blanky. Connie |
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fire on the mountains Connie Cruz (4) |
she plays wooden flute Richard Stivers (6) |
a long drive Connie Cruz (7) This haiku make me think of a couple that is about to separate. The couple doesn't want to separate, but has to because he has to leave for the Army. The girl friend could stop her tears from flowing. Dee This is an emotional haiku, telling of departing from someone we love. It also allows me to think and reflect on the long drive back home. I also think that the drive to the airport can be a happy one, since she is drying her eyes on the way to the airport. I think of reflection, and being able to recognize what is important to you in life. I also believe that this time will help in making decisions that will have an effect on my life forever. Mary |
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autumn leaves Greg Lock (2) I love the fall season. It is my absolute favorite. Reading this just takes me back there in these six words. I can feel the cool air, I can hear the crunching leaves, and I can smell the smoke in the air. I absolutely love it. I wish it could be fall all year long! I can imagine this same scenario at my house smelling the smoke from our wood burning stove in the house, on a campground in a fire pit, or along a city street as people are burning leaves. They are all different but I like them all just the same. I love being able to wear long sleeve shirts and jeans and feeling cool and comfortable during this time of year. It makes me think of the first couple months of school and playing in the school yard. This haiku is open to many different times and places. Erica I like the sound in this one. The “crunching” leaves. That is a very fall/autumn sound. It makes the scene very real and believable. Then adding the “smoke lingers” that adds a smell to it. I, personally, love the smell of burning leaves. It is one of my favorite things about fall (my favorite season). Luckily for me, I don’t have allergies, so it doesn’t bother me. So, this image is a very pleasant one for me. It takes to my favorite time of year, outside enjoying the crunching of leaves and a cool autumn breeze with the faint smell of smoke. It makes me want to get out my sweaters and jackets. I can’t wait for fall to come! Beth |
crowded airport Elaine Agnew (7) Crowded airport, lots of people hugging, kissing, crying all around her. A woman standing basically lifeless, unaware of her surroundings. She is watching the love of her life walk away. Her eyes are filled with tears and every falling tear she can see his reflection. I chose this one because it is so heart wrenching. It really puts me there. Wendy I liked the fact that this Haiku has an apparent double meaning. First, the crying allows the other person to look at their own reflection in each tear. Second, the crying was brought on by the love and connection one another have. This connection allows the man to see just how much his being or “reflection” has meant to the other person. The crying reveals that there is indeed a strong connection between these two. Greg I really liked this haiku because it reminded me of how I cried every time I said good-bye to my dad. My mother, my 3 siblings and I moved from Mexico City to California and every summer after that I would visit my father. At the end of my visit my father drove me to the airport and it was always the same thing. I would cry and cry to the point where it was his reflection through my tears that I saw. Connie |
cool October air |
grasping hand Greg Lock (2) |
Grandma’s kitchen |
been gone so long John Tennyson (9) |
proud little hunter |
the property line Mary Birmingham This reminds me of the house we used to live in. We had a beautiful magnolia tree by the driveway – beautiful for maybe a week until the blooms started to fall and turn brown all over the drive, yard, cars and in the gutters where they turned slimy and disgusting. Our neighbors never complained, but I was just sure they hated that tree as much as we did. The blossoms fell in their yard too, “where the wind takes them.” This haiku captures the true simplicity of the situation. There was really nothing we could do, but I felt awful about it. Beth |
little soldiers Neisha Joyner (6) This reminded me of my twin boys. On Saturday night’s they get bathed and fresh hair cuts for Sunday’s church service. My daughter she gets her bath and her hair done also. When they wake up on Sunday all they have to do is eat breakfast, get dressed, and sit on the couch and wait for the rest of the family to get ready for church. Tamika |
red hot lighter in one hand Patricia (3) This reminds me of an addict who has just left rehab. This person has had a difficult time re-entering society. Cannot find a job, little money, and pressure from loved ones. They found some of their devilish vices. Their hand shakes as they contemplate falling down again. Tobi Randles |
autumn breeze Susan Berroyer This haiku reminds me of how the winds blow in autumn moving all the leaves from the trees. I like seeing the piles of leaves that families would rake and then the kids would jump and play in them. After the rains begin to fall the leaves become wet and makes them no fun for the kids to play with anymore. After the rain the leaves are all smashed together which makes it hard for kids to throw or toss them around for fun. Jacqueline |
stretched belly Tamika Hall (11) |
Sunrise on the horizon Tamika Hall (8) This haiku is both amusing and to the point. I can picture a noisy rooster on the fence post just crowing away at the first light. Whenever I’m tired in the mornings, I too would like to kill whatever is making that racket. If the noise is coming from something that can be eaten, then even better! Now there is one less thing to worry about for dinner. Greg I find the wit in this haiku irresistible. As one who has never been accused of being an early riser, I welcome any attempt to quite a morning alarm. To me, the rooster signifies the crack of dawn and a wake up call. The ultimate payback for interrupted morning peace, is a feast on the loud creature for lunch. Ha ha. Patricia |
window ledge Beth Forcum (7) |
dead silence |
at last Tina Calhoun (10) My two small children did not want to go to sleep. We had a busy day, and I am tired. Finally, the children fall asleep. I am ready to go to bed, but the sound of the dryer reminds me that I have to fold and iron clothes for the next morning. I quietly close my eyes and wait for the dryer to buzz. Elaine I enjoy the Haiku, because I imagine coming home unwinding and getting ready for bed. After the hectic day at work, I want to shower, relax, put the kids to bed and sit under my hairdryer. Dee Every young mother has experienced trying to keep up with laundry while trying to take on the entire household and parenting responsibilities of life. I remember how I just needed to get a load in to the dryer. After dinner, you have dishes, baths, and story time. There never seems to be enough time in the day to pick up the house and wash and dry the clothes. When the children are asleep, you have time to get daily chores done. I do not know how many nights I put laundry in the dryer and squeezed in a few precious moments for myself while the children were peacefully sleeping. Susan Berroyer |
chatter throughout the rooms Tobi Randles (7) This reminds me of the time when my step dad was in the hospital and we had just found out he had stomach caner. The whole family was together in the waiting room of the hospital. It was very loud and busy with the children. The adults were crying, laughing, and reminiscing about old times together. Although we were there on a sad occasion it was good to have the whole family together again. Neisha |
snowy afternoon Wendy Miller (7) This haiku makes me think of my own dog (Bandit). He is at the door everyday when I come home wagging his tail with excitement. When it is wintertime, it is almost as if he knows there is snow outside. He loves to play in the snow and also likes to eat the snow as well. Sometimes he is wagging his tail so much that he almost knocks me over. Chonda |
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snow storm |
grandma’s piano Wendy Miller (7) A sentimental scene, one can imagine the piano being played with the family gathering around. The piano is no longer being played. Perhaps, Grandma has passed away. However, the family still gathers around the piano, now in frames. One can almost hear the old piano music in this image. Diana |
cave marionette shadows |
© 2006, Randy Brooks • Millikin University
All rights returned to authors upon publication.