Archive # 22


Her four year old son,
always tried to climb the fence.
Wanderlust starts young.


(Photo of a 4 year old MrSmith1, on his way to an important meeting. Behind him, the fence he kept climbing.)


Finding peace-makers
is never as easy as
finding warriors.




Thoughts, planted wisely,
blossom in reluctant minds,
when the time is right.

When told he’d entered
Hell’s tenth level, he thought, “Must,
be where the toys are …”


In the swirls of clouds,
where we imagine heaven,
floats both love and hope.
Lemons aren’t kumquats,
they seldom know their own worth,
therefore, they get squeezed.
His pulse would quicken
each time she entered the room …
‘cuz, she brought the beer.


Yellow mediates
the fights between red and green,
so it’s feeling blue.
What if we’re all cogs
in a huge, complex machine,
just trying to mesh?
Hijacked hydrangeas
hopefully hastened her help.
Horticulture, HA!
Hirsute hobos help
harangue humble heroes. How
double haiku: Morning eased gently
into my consciousness, like
melting caramels …

gooey imagery?
Perhaps, but still better than
a kick in the shins.


haiku redux: In his father’s desk,
sits a letter never sent,
urging forgiveness.


haiku redux 2: The fabric of Life;
From order to chaos, we
slowly unravel.


tanka haiku: Klotho spins Life’s thread,
Lachesis measures its length,
Atropos cuts it.

   These three fates (or destinies),
   looked for no union labels.



haiku redux: Open up your mind,
free your thoughts from tyranny.
let your dreams escape.





tanka haiku: The house lights dimmed, the
orchestra began to play,
an old Broadway score.

   Musicals that filled our hearts
   will never really leave them.



tanka haiku: Those life preservers
and flight jackets brag too much.
But you know that, right?

   No jacket will make you fly,
   no vest prevent your decay.


tanka haiku: Swept in office
with a huge mandate, he knew
he’d better act fast.

   For voters quickly forget
   and want results right away.

The purser welcomed
each bitter, bored, broad aboard,
by beaming brightly.


tanka haiku: Looking back, I think
my life’s been a series of
int’resting events.
   They were to me anyway,
   And in the end, that’s what counts.
haiku: Barbie’s skate party,
ended in chaos, when Ken
missed a toe-loop.


Scaling Mount Fuji,
I suddenly found myself
posing for photos.




Alternate take:

Scaling Mount Fuji,

Would be just as difficult,
if it was a fish.



Some Civil War buffs,
love re-enacting battles;
Gettysburg redux.
Winters way down South
pale when compared to just one
New England sleigh ride.
Winds bite, cheeks redden,
cold in the city brings the
January blues.
Grieving trees embark
on their sad autumn journeys
shedding leafy tears.


With hearts full of grace,
and souls generating love
we shall overcome.


(Thanks to my friend, Jim W. for the Martin Luther King, Jr. quote that inspired this haiku.)


Could there possibly
be anything more silly
than old Jell-o molds?
Above me hangs the
sword of Damocles. Below,
the abyss. (Fun, huh?)


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