Haiku Kukai 1 - Honors Seminar

Global Haiku • Kukai 1 • Fall 2010
(Select 6-8 favorite haiku, and write a ¶ of imagined response to 2 favorites.)

volleyball practice
the sweat sticks
on the gym floor

melted art
as the drizzle from the sprinkler
hits the pavement

the white chalk is out
the wind blows swiftly
across the field

shaded hammock
freshly cut pineapple
lingers on your lips

sleeping at mother’s side
magic light
drips from her hair

sweaty sun-braid
trails rivulets down her back
fresh strawberries

summer work
crawling in the mud
to fix a bridge

trail behind me
with fresh mowed grass
sweating brow, clouds my glass

one leap off the diving board
bikini bottoms slip
thank goodness for bubbles

clay pigeons
sunlight on my face
no longer there

shoe grit
my cheek now rosy
sidewalk's sunny kiss

black hat
slips further down
wet forehead

a soft voice
sings through the store
. . . hello. my love

holding me
sweat drips down
holding you

his clammy hand is
perfect in mine

church parking lot
nervously swaying
to the rhythm of your breath

a smoky breeze
my sweatshirt soaked
in the scent of the night

searing afternoon sun
gingerly holding the wheel
with my fingertips

a lone boat
the single lamp casts
an unnatural yellow light

rearview mirror blocked
boxes, food, a teddy bear

salty eyes
the Thunderbirds’ scream by
straw hat on the sunburned man

clear vase
sitting on the oak table
artificial perfection

one leg up
hopping down the street
numbers in squares

mom’s voice
calling me inside
five more minutes

without covers, face
near fan

sun pours through
the window…
she sleeps alone

best friend
never alone when you look
within yourself

fresh and clean
from the shower
i drip sweat

dandelion girl
petals sing on skin
boys flush

clouds of breath
hover in the air
no school

© 2010, Randy Brooks • Millikin University
All rights returned to authors upon publication.