Final Kukai 9

Global Haiku Tradition--Final Kukai, Spring 2005
Select fifteen and write ¶ about 2 favorites. Email votes only for final kukai!

exhausted in the car
seat...tilted... down
Ursa major

indescribable feelings
i tell her
my middle name

chocolate silence
the hectic morning
passes me by

pissing and moaning
sitting at the train stop
crushed paper cup
October frost
my secrets
leave a handprint
whiney music blares
an apartment down the street
“Rocket To Russia”
unable to cry
I sharpen a
stack of pencils
quiet moment
after a shower's refreshment
one bulb burnt out
naked
she winces at her reflection
Fat Tuesday
hot humid day
one more rep
failure

empty gym
sun light on a bench
one more set to go

missing life’s screwball,
in my utopia
eating my ham on white
careful consideration
a squirrel leaps
to a new tree
raining white flower petals
one catches my tearing eye
cold spring morning
fizzing with anticipation
Alka-seltzer doesn’t help
big black stage
empty yonder
cold...
warming my heart
round and round
no more training wheels
fifteen stiches

we laugh we cry
we live      we die...
soulmates

she looks at me
without me knowing
feigning sleep
soft hum of the generator
silence covers me
like velvet
autumn suicide
the widow wonders
who to go to
soft, worn leather
rocks me softly
grandpa’s favorite chair
coming of new life
the worried father struggles
to find the perfect name
wondering around
the endless boundaries
of my imagination
a baby's cry
two men in the alley
focus on a car

lunar eclipse       toes in the ocean
i tiptoe through the gallery
all assemblages
turn to watch me

sitting on the sidewalk
my red Popsicle
drips in the heat

gingersnap recipe
just the way grandma made ‘em
sunlight drenches the empty kitchen

this one doesn’t work
same with this one
computer lab

the stench of beer and cigarettes
all the windows open
I sit with numb toes
red-brick fireplace
great-grandpa’s thumbprint
still in cement
colorful clothing
clean and pressed
a prisoner

untouched journals
gather the dust
of silent thoughts

bubble mower
side by side
we cut the grass
thinking of you
realizing
the cat pissed on my sweatshirt
laying in the grass
we point out animals
in the sky

the wind
pulls in the rain,
pulls out my hair

single hair
on the pillow
too short to be my own

falling from irish lips
french words
cell phone dies

August sunshine
hiding our tears
behind dark lenses

four bare backs
water dripping
from wet hair

new doll
my older cousin
still won’t play with me

worn name
trying to make it out
under the dust

heart beats through my chest
as he draws
nearer to me

the midst of nothing
there she sits
hope

tangled hair
my mother
tries to fix the doll

a blanket
under a tree
falling crabapples

soon after marriage
the couple
connected only by rings

moving box
I carelessly place
the doll in the bottom

meeting the parents
you forget
to introduce me

5am--I leave my own house
I lack the energy to tell them
party's over

schoolbus
putting on makeup
away from mother's eyes

fighting for peace
the leaf trembles
on its branch

blowing out the candles
she wishes . . .
for one more year
creaking barn door
grandpa’s hat
still hanging from the rafters
wind rips through
an open field
scattering sunflowers
light morning dew
a raccoon
in the passenger seat
warm evening breeze
a sparrow competes
with the wind chimes
tracing the path
of an old scar
the tree's bark

hunched in the corner
white robe clings
to skin and bones

sitting on a rotten log
while my backpack
rests comfortably

rain drips down
the black umbrella
a shadow falls across his face

air conditioning broken
kitchen chair
sticks to my thighs

alone in the house
--goose bumps
I turn off the TV

looking for
lightning
I hold my breath

 

 

 


© 2005, Randy Brooks • Millikin University • last updated: May 6, 2005
All rights returned to authors upon publication.