GUYKU Read online

  Guyku

  A Year of Haiku for Boys

  Bob Raczka and Peter H. Reynolds

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Table of Contents

  ...

  Copyright

  Dedications

  Spring

  The wind and I play

  I free grasshopper

  With baseball cards and

  In a rushing stream,

  If this puddle could

  I watch the worms squirm

  Summer

  Pine tree invites me

  Mosquito lands on

  Lying on the lawn,

  Skip, skip, skip, skip, plunk!

  Penny on the rail,

  With the ember end

  Fall

  Hey, who turned off all

  We follow deer tracks

  Helicopters spin

  The best part about

  From underneath the

  Pounding fat cattails

  Winter

  Winter must be here.

  How many million

  Two splotches of white

  Icicles dangle,

  It's silent under

  Last week's snowman looks

  ...

  Why I Wrote Guyku

  Why I Illustrated Guyku

  Text copyright © 2010 by Bob Raczka

  Illustrations copyright © 2010 by Peter H. Reynolds

  All rights reserved. For information about permission to reproduce selections

  from this book, write to Permissions, Houghton Mifflin Harcourt Publishing

  Company, 215 Park Avenue South, New York, New York 10003.

  Houghton Mifflin Books for Children is an imprint of

  Houghton Mifflin Harcourt Publishing Company.

  www.hmhbooks.com

  The text of this book is handwritten.

  The illustrations are watercolor and digital color.

  This information applies to the print edition of this book

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication

  Raczka, Bob.

  Guyku : a year of haiku for boys / written by Bob Raczka ;

  pictures by Peter Reynolds.

  p. cm.

  ISBN 978-0-547-24003-9

  1. Haiku, American. 2. Children's poetry, American. 3. Seasons—Juvenile

  poetry. 4. Boys—Juvenile poetry. I. Reynolds, Peter, 1961- ill. II. Title.

  PS3618.A346G89 2010

  811'.6—dc22

  2009049697

  Printed in China

  LEO 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

  4500221237

  To my sons, Robert and Carl,

  may you always appreciate

  the simple things in life.

  —B.R.

  To my nephews Andrew, Chris,

  Simon, Mark, Josh, Nate, Ben,

  James, Nick, Adam, Jason, Eric,

  John, Paul, Brian, and Pat.

  —P.H.R.

  The wind and I play

  tug-of-war with my new kite.

  The wind is winning.

  I free grasshopper

  from his tight, ten-fingered cage—

  he tickles too much!

  With baseball cards and

  clothespins, we make our bikes sound

  like motorcycles.

  In a rushing stream,

  we turn rocks into a dam.

  Hours flow by us.

  If this puddle could

  talk, I think it would tell me

  to splash my sister.

  I watch the worms squirm

  and decide to bait my hook

  with hot dog instead.

  Pine tree invites me

  to climb him up to the sky.

  How can I refuse?

  Mosquito lands on

  my cheek. I try to slap her,

  but I just slap me.

  Lying on the lawn,

  we study the blackboard sky,

  connecting the dots.

  Skip, skip, skip, skip, plunk!

  Five ripple rings in a row—

  my best throw ever!

  Penny on the rail,

  You used to look like Lincoln

  before you got smooshed.

  With the ember end

  of my long marshmallow stick,

  I draw on the dark.

  Hey, who turned off all

  the crickets? I'm not ready

  for summer to end.

  We follow deer tracks

  in the mud, pretending that

  we too are wild beasts.

  Helicopters spin

  in squadrons from our maple—

  I almost caught one!

  The best part about

  kicking this stone home from school

  is there are no rules.

  From underneath the

  leaf pile, my invisible

  brother is giggling.

  Pounding fat cattails

  on a park bench near the pond,

  we make a snowstorm.

  Winter must be here.

  Every time I open my

  mouth, a cloud comes out.

  How many million

  flakes will it take to make a

  snow day tomorrow?

  Two splotches of white

  on a black tree trunk. I aim

  my next pitch—strike three!

  Icicles dangle,

  begging to be broken off

  for a short sword fight.

  It's silent under

  these pine boughs sagging with snow,

  like hibernating.

  Last week's snowman looks

  under the weather. Must be

  a spring allergy.

  Are you a guy? Me too. I just happen to be a guy who likes haiku.

  When I was a boy, I didn't even know what a haiku was. But I did spend a lot of time outside with my friends. Nature was our playground, and we made the most of it—catching bugs, climbing trees, skipping stones, throwing snowballs.

  Now that I'm a grownup (sort of), I realize that haiku is a wonderful form of poetry for guys like us. Why? Because a haiku is an observation of nature, and nature is a place where guys love to be.

  Haiku poems are also short. They're only three lines long, with five syllables in the first line, seven syllables in the second line, and five syllables in the third line. A haiku doesn't take long to read, but don't be fooled: a good haiku can pack a punch.

  One more thing about haiku: they're written in the present tense. In other words, whatever happens in a haiku, it's happening right now. From my experience, guys are always interested in what's happening right now.

  In case you were wondering, every haiku in this book is about something I did as a boy. Or something I've seen my own boys do. It's the kind of stuff I—along with amazing and inspiring illustrator Peter H. Reynolds—wanted to share with guys like you.

  I am SO excited about Guyku.

  I am passionate about creativity and art—inspiring EVERYONE to make their mark ... whether art, story, or poem.

  My mission is also to help people defy stereotypes—to think creatively and bravely. The invitation for boys to swim in the "poem pond" needs to be issued more often, and more loudly.

  I want to shout, "Come on in! The water's fine!"

  Bob Raczka's haikus are wonderfully clever, universally delightful, and filled with old-fashioned boyish fun. What a thrill it is to link arms with Bob on this poetic romp—and important mission!

 

 

  Bob Raczka, GUYKU

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