Haiku Kukai 7

Global Haiku • Millikin University • Spring 2017

the day
she smiles in the mirror
she wins

asking my favorite flower
he brings me
Gerber daisies instead

sweet sweet Lucy
my saxophone plays
the notes of my heart

jump in the car
rev the engine

at the funeral
an old man
grabs the last cookie

late night
dancing around the kitchen
instead of doing work

the doors slide open
the scent from
Grandma's last day

daily devotional
Psalm 73:28
a wedding ring

long day in court
the judge
ready to make his decision

one day at a time
30 day chip
60 day chip . . .

slicing onions
to explain
my tears

I feel the pain
so she
no longer has to

their first visit
both of them have on their best
“Inmate 45531-96855 visitors”

i love
wiping his hair
out of his eyes

she wears her inmate badge
over her heart

Beautiful Disaster.
a tattoo
on an offender's right arm

going to visit grandpa
Police officer asks the 6 year old
to take        off his shoes

innocent black man
finally released from prison—
suicide a month later

in the garden
alone at last

trenches filled with men
holding guns
holding onto home

neck pain
she wonders
if he's hurting

they voice the thing
I've been feeling for months
the need for community

I fight the thought
that no cis boy
wants a boy like me

im big boned
i say
with a new smile

he stands
through it all

the solider
waits for morning
it never comes

the new
agent orange

game of street whiffle ball—
waiting for
the car to pass

third day and still
no call—
no news is good news, right?

greeting me as i
emerge from underground
the glittering lights of the Eiffel Tower

not a glance
my way
snow man

tragedy in life
he whistles on

scrubbing the walls
crayon dinosaur
won't come off

a call from grandma
somehow always finds a way
to brighten my day

tiny crab
good at burrowing
but I can't find him

the moon lights
our bad ideas
the weekend

the cat lounges lazily
blanketed by shade
the heat of the day

ash cross
trickles down forehead
cleaning off her mistakes

golden koi
shimmering in the sun
wedding nerves

on the left side of the bed
on the right side of the bed
waking up alone





cornfields for miles
gas light dings
I pull out my last cigarette

glamorous faces
staring back at me
from social media

if i knew
it was the last embrace
    i would've held tighter

drunk and daring
I ask you
       to stay the night

rain smacks
my window pane
    as I put on his shirt

father and son
    and his girlfriend

angled faces
tilted at the perfect degree for
a photoshoot

a gentle breeze
tickles the hair
on my legs

one impulse
a melodic phrase

wrong note
only i know

I stand beneath
the Eiffel Tower
so that's how tall it is

mother's touch
keeps the memories

The News
the words flow off her lips
in disbelief

family of four
sit quietly
in court

rebel voice arising
luring me into
the thunder

parallel hands
on either side of the tracks
the grass is always greener

the first time we left
the look on
my mother's face

my dad picks me up
from my mom's house

once more I find myself
by an empty home

Debussy's Premiere Rhapsodie
but no one wants to hear
a clarinet

motioning her over
he reaches for her waist
guiding her feet

thin layer of soil
on top of
her casket

the milky way
our headlights
and a full tank

in the tattoo
waiting room

we walk the beach
a child's sense of wonder
fills my soul

he's flopping my limp arms
looking for a giggle
hey, macarena!

drinking coffee the
next morning—
officially lovers

false happiness
masked over her face
turning the volume up

hospital waiting room
husband calls into work
for his dead wife

almost full
—last man standing

exiting the airplane
greeting new faces
    fake smiles

        our magic
the moon

a homeless man
repeats his signature
over and over.

at the base of the
purple mountain range
a single edelweiss

sitting in jail
writing home
the letters never sent.

bumble bee
hovering on the page
autumn sky

his hand
    rising and falling
on my chest

Westminster Abbey mass—
The Lord's Prayer in
multiple tongues

the bottle of wine
crashes on the floor
she forgot what she was drinking for

walking through the lilac
smelling the spring air
no idea what I want to do after college

cigarette smoke



the yellow bee
missing one leg
still gathering the pollen

dad's boots
bent and tattered
almost the right fit

he closes
the piano
another day

the same bike
but with
a little less bolts

breathe before
the fingers land
on the keys

swinging on porch
the light shines
through the pain

sunshine finally erupts
from the clouds
first pitch

a little yellow jacket
bounds between puddles

hidden eyes
holding the truth behind
the sun glasses

curly haired roomie
back from a weekend home
missed my girl

suburban driveway
my first

every night
    I somehow end up
        next to you

text from mom asking
if I ordered graduation cards

another day
in another class with her;
this time she smiles

up at night
never going to
say it

sitting in the waiting rom
this one light keeps flickering,
fighting to live or die

a card waiting
fruit bowls
piles of pancakes

after last night
we try to remember
who kissed who

pink pajamas
sprinkles on

fishing with family
takes me back
my missing father

door bell rings
she slips on her shoes
as dad opens the door

day by day
one step at a time
I will heal

i wish
i wouldn't have to
explain falling for . . . him

young boy looks on in amazement,
his heroes the men in blue—
leaving his father's face blue . . .
                                         and black

the little girl puts on her best dress,
mom did her hair
visitations. “Daddy!”

stepping up to the plate
one swing at a time
to get on base

each day
a new city
his handwriting on my calendar

overflowing trash
dirty dishes
i'm not your mother

i want to write haiku
    on your skin
with my lips

staying because
I don't know how
to leave

a lit cigarette
brings me back
to life

ants crawl
across a
mossy log

hoping the liquor store owner
thinks i look
like a "Carol"

corner of the Dunkin Donuts
we sip coffee
and talk about hormone therapy

the smell of coffee beans
and tennis balls
members only

fluttering past
gracefully dancing
lands on a twig

the fight is over
yet he moves closer

left for the weekend
everything is the same
dishes in the sink

terrible actor
trying to make friends
with the enemies

her certificates
hang on the fridge
a proud mom

lost in the jungle brush
a soldier
calls for his mother

closing her eyes
that's her moment
with him

Crayola pencils
clack front and back
red, orange—yes—
even black!

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