Final Kukai (7)

Global Haiku • Millikin University • Spring 2016

Vote for your favorite 11 haiku, with double votes for your absoluet favorite.

Jupiter tucked behind
a stop light


a tiny lantern
floats forward
to the outhouse

salmon swim upstream
strolling down the bank
of the postcard

Abbey Road
a chorus of honking
bloody tourists


Valentine's Day
I sit at the table
set for one

hair of flame
her laugh brings me

warm turtle shell
on a thin branch the heron

sterilized needle
Red Cross patiently
waits for you

Frodo & Sam
        father & daughter
pass their passports

over dinner
I see sadness
left in my mother's eyes


in the cool stone
the Queen's eyes

the smell of rain
just ten more minutes
until the storm rolls in


furry creature
runs up to me
feels like home

in the back seat
Beetle Beatles

perfect specimen
the goddess lifts her


new shoes
new job
already a scuff


hanging a portrait
the whispering hushes
crooked corner

its been months
since she went
off the map


munching an apple
the same kind they use
at the fair

macho man
the newborn kitten

a startling crash
his hand jumps
to his scar

••••• •

bare feet dangling
from the tire swing
when did I grow up?

••••• ••

soft lips
caressing my neck
alfalfa breath whinny

strive to remember
God is Good
I take the next step

welcoming him home
father's day card
hidden behind her back


music store
what do I grab first?
the triangle

beer foam
lonely eyes
across the bar


my faith in a penny
the koi circle
my final wish


Flight 109
brings back
my past

geese and grass
one big family
time to fly

after hours
dark windows reflect
a single candle

my coffee black
to prove
I can handle you


nothing to lose
a lottery
he undertakes a kiss


single mother
first fall alone
noticing her joint pain

snack bar closed
we scroll on
our mouse pads

falling face first
into summer stars
—the lake winks back

sun on my face
reminds me
this is where I'm meant to be




behind the velvet curtain
my hand quivers

wedding bells ring
I walk past faces
only seeing one


losing track of time
bath water flows smoothly
from under the door

snow piles high
he caresses her
bald head

stop sign
in the distance
we accelerate


shoveled up tears
I bury them
with him


loving me
the way you know how
tail wags


flour billows all over
cut-outs and sprinkle dustings
oven beeping

desktop globe
the child knows
only his backyard

turns to like
becoming friends again


back to the kitchen
another look can't hurt
nothing for dinner


hair pulled back
lipstick on
pretending I'm okay


your smile
a rainbow
after the storm


running my fingers
along the keys
words unformed


at the stove
his hands rest
on my apron's ties

home alone
taking a shower
the door creaks open


a ferris wheel
as grand as

for the right words
in my cuticles

••••• •••

hop scotch boxes
connecting driveways
summer's eve

what better place
to see an opera
down under

one fist up
the other grasps
a 6 pack of Budweiser

grasshopper floats
on the waves
summer heat


every creak and crack
can still be felt
the old home

the fire
we once shared

••••• ••••

Toy Story clouds
walking with the Buzz
to my Woody


cookie dough run
the best friends


her smoke break
in the rain
without a cigarette


black eyed susans
grandma's soft hands
coated in garden soil


iced sweet tea—
watching the children
stain their knees green


falling apart
I watch the lone wall

hitch hiking
the wrong way
down a one way street

dripping from the comb
pure, golden honey
His ways are sweeter

little yellow wildflowers
remind me
make the most of it


on a stranger's deck
we talk philosophy

••••• •

drunken night
helps himself


running in the night
a childish laugh
he does not know

a promise
under stars
for more stars

••••• •

spring afternoon
obligatory visit
one last time

driving home from school
for summer break
the last time






she sits with friends
toads at this pond

Grandma's porch swing strains
mother cradles
her daughter's child

barefoot in the grass
three two one
last kiss


the last drive-in
we watch the movie
for the first time

the more she drank
the darker it got


movie night
kernels in my teeth
smiling at her

asparagus spring
cool puddles of rain water
beg for my feet


to his side of the bed
pillow thief

rain drops trickle
down the stem of the
dying daffodils


movie night . . .
gently skimming my skin
like the night before


the new sun
too warm
our bodies untangle


drops trickle
down a slender neck
the beer bottle

snowy Friday night
logs burning ever so slowly
dusty fireplace

shades on
hat back
too cool for school

spring breeze
my toes covered
in grey mud

squealing in delight
tiny handprints
spaghetti face

he's gone
the jokes remain
can't remember the punch line


eagerly waiting her reply
his phone lights up
mom . . .

after the confession
fart jokes
and giggling

Sunday morning
     wrapped in cotton sheets
I watch him dream


a pen standing up
my cup
full of sea glass



waking up
can't remember putting on
(t)his shirt


© 2016, Randy Brooks • Millikin University
All rights returned to authors upon publication.