Global Haiku • Spring 2010
Dr. Randy Brooks

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Nathan Bettenhausen

Essay on
Marlene Mountain: a Pioneer
of Poetry and Artistry

Ripple in the Pond

Nathan Bettenhausen

When writing my haiku, I try not to think too much. I’ve tried to figure out where my best haiku come from, and I can’t pinpoint any specific source. At times they come to me, at times they don’t. They majority come from past experiences and nature, but I don’t feel limited. I try to write things with double meanings that make people think. Overall, I just write for fun!

Reader's Introduction

Nathan is starting to find his voice within his haiku. I have seen him struggle to come up with haiku on the spot, but yet he has still found one of my favorites through spontaneity:

a ripple in the pond
can never be

He is starting to write very beautifully and they flow nicely. I’ve noticed that a lot of his haiku have to do with a theme of regret or depression or loss, but it works for him. I’ve come to enjoy his haiku very much. — Kari T.

childhood movies
I forget
I’m no longer a child…

playing on the swingset
first days of springtime
college students

dancing together
I watch in tears
across the room

chilled air
the dragon blows smoke
just a child

newborn calf
takes its first steps
in spring sunlight

the ghost
of a snowman

gentle rain
taps the shoulder
of the girl

dragonfly in the sun
I forget
I was getting the mail

the bakery is closed
I use mom’s money
to buy ice cream

that familiar sparkle
in your eyes

screaming in pain
the cattle
don’t notice

hidden treasure
before your eyes

the Word of God
she forgets
her place

autumn chill
everytime I hear
her name

a tearful melody
says every word
I couldn’t

trying to pray
thank God for Mom
nothing to say

curses under my breath
popping off
dandelion heads

she pops
the question
Child support?

she weeps
cherry blossoms fall
a t her feet

Sun Diamonds

The sun rose that day like any other day. The mist practically vanished at the very sight of the sun as it seemingly rose out of the shimmering waters. Gazing across the lake, the water is still until a fish leaps out. It causes a splash and sends tiny diamonds into the air. The smell of the dew and freshly cut grass pervades the air, and sitting on the deck it seems as though civilization is miles away. The lawn chairs are still damp, but are just as comfortable as ever. In the yard the campfire is still smoldering, a faint reminder of the blazing inferno that lit up the night just hours ago. Suddenly, only feet away from the shoreline, a loon comes to rest in the glassy water. The ripples rush out around the bird causing tiny, sparkling rings to flow out in every direction. In that moment, consumed by the silent serenity of the morning, he smiles. In that moment, a tear slips down his cheek. In that moment, his only wish is that his grandfather was still alive to share a moment in paradise.

a ripple in the pond
can never be

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