Haiku Kukai 6

Global Haiku • Millikin University • Spring 2017

forgiving someone
who was not sorry


was why she was able to g

                                      giant       rock
walking through the woods                     alters my path

              the whole family traveled to see this
              the church is full
              today we bury her.

walking on the beach
without you
isn't the same

I toss my line
in the smooth water
Sunday afternoon

the moon illuminates
the tide
emerging our knees

the gentle crashing
of the waves
drifts me to sleep

a thunderous roar
is it a storm
or Harleys revving

beer on the beach
somehow I didn't
get a ticket

finally get up
popcorn seeds
on the couch

hold on
or let him go
that's the riddle

emptied my pockets
found your
diamond earring

we follow
the blue line
     to the windy city

in my rearview mirror
Iowa on the horizon

winding roads
curve round
the mountain

rounding the curve
all jump to one side
tip the bus

nasty words said
in front of the children
just walk away

snowy mountains
point to
an emptiness above

an empty marina
reminds me of when
you left

husband and wife
with all of their attention
on the television

dinner conversation
her mind
out in the garden

circling on a bike
in a vacant parking lot
storm clouds start to form

a missed phone call
I decide
not to return it

first plane ride
is this adulthood?

i think
has a whatshisname

topless jeep
California stars
do not disappoint

angry driver
we gave you the chance
to pass

blowing through
too much money
every swipe of my card

scrolling through instagram
seeing all the people
I don't talk to anymore

long day
packed with smiles
ignoring the sunburn

girls night out
Chicago lights
exam on Monday

he holds
her hand
not mine

one kiss
won't change

a wooden lift
bobbing up
as we go down





looking behind her
the fireworks spelled

v        c         o        y
    i           t        r

squeezing tight

waves crash on the shore
gentle sea breeze
tickles my face

he hugs his son
at the graduation
he never had

a burst of cold air
as she
slides into her seat

Spring break
but the spring weather
is. on. a. break.

took the day off
to hang with her best friend
mommy and daughter time

how come
we only talk
about homework

holding her breath
       she let it go
                 on him

one leg stands
in the water
crushing waves

checking into a
room of four beds
nine girls

the girl cooks
in the kitchen
for her doll

                open field
         under a field
of stars

the reflection within
the water
of another person

waking up to the
thunder rumbling
outside my window

dewy grass
     and a message
          from the moon

barbecue smoke
my father
kisses someone else

in your arms
the smell of pine
and your smile

an entire city
and the only peace she finds
is at the top of the city

our last goodbye
this moment

crossing the state line
I breathe in the air
of my home state

atop the mountain
we puff and pass
as we look out over our kingdom

turning with care
as to not wake her slumber
in the passenger seat

pine sap
sticky fingers
stuck to her hair

white pines stretching
past the slope
black diamond

more creamer
than coffee
just the way I like it

chicken sizzling
rolling the tortillas
in the sauce

antique collecting
grandpa points
to the toy horse he owned

haiku class winner
orphaned by silence
unknown author

man on the moon
looking down on me

the song on the radio
reminds me of how
things used to be

whispers drift
from the other room
my name comes up

you promised to come back
          but here I am
       Madame Butterfly

counting freckles
"angel kisses"
grandma says

little fingers
reaching for my fries
     for the third time

one bedroom or two?
our eyes meet, we laugh
two bedrooms

pondering life
on a boat
I drop my paddle

eyes getting heavy
hands cramp on the steering wheel
four more hours

holding whom
was once
gone forever






I know when
that payroll hits
I'll be broke next week

i step through the portal
guns a blazin'
just in time to die, again

freezing on the
sweet peaches

jamming to
with oldies

sitting at the high stools
diner love
over easy

sinking to the bottom
of the pool
a lone red solo cup

not a day goes by
that i don't miss
my innocence

an unopened Busch Light
next to the bed—
spring break aesthetic

in the middle of
chopping tomatoes
he tells her he's leaving

rocks poke
at my toes
through my flip flop

guy at the bar
who are you with?
my mom

presenting the flag
to the widowed woman

little house
in the distance
his lights are on

small feet
in a full puddle

her hand
          in mine
we walk
          along the shore

we marked our time
spray paint signatures
Cadillac Ranch

he slicked back his hair
i thought we
were just friends

bath water now cold
still sitting
always thinking

staring in the mirror
the body
she wants to be proud of

he drops her mail
off every summer
just to get a glimpse of her

blink of an eye
she's gone
in the arms of another man

knocking at the door
we wait . . .
           he's gone

the snow flurries
all night . . .
spring break?

black leather and
the smell of gasoline—
Daytona Bike Week

dancing with a
in the overcrowded bar

“Lifeguards Only”
we sit in the chair

© 2017, Randy Brooks • Millikin University
All rights returned to authors upon publication.