A Pre-Blizzard-y Friday Afternoon at the Haikulodeon – 2/8/13

Here’s this week’s heap of haikus:
Lads from Liverpool
landed in New York; A sad
world found joy again.
———————————
Mind all aflutter,
She left her glasses at home
and her keys at work.
———————————-
 In Grandma’s parlour,
quiet domesticity …
and a sleeping cat.
————————————-
Scars are reminders,
that Life can be risky, but
we can, and will, heal.
————————————-
 Her plaid flannel shirt
clashed with his pink cardigan;
They were perfect mates.
—————————————–
 She stirred the stew and
sprinkled the pepper, while she
glanced out the window.
——————————————-
Winter winds chill me,
cold rain soaks through my clothing.
What a rotten day.
——————————————
Across the river,
lies a land where dreams still thrive.
Help me build a bridge.
—————————————-
Two hearts beat as one …
which begs the question; How high
is their blood pressure?
—————————————–
A life resisting
being told what she should do,
left her wondering.
——————————————-
Though old of age, he
felt he still had tales to tell,
and trails to wander.
——————————————-
 There is an old tree
that knows my heartaches and has
heard my confessions.
———————————————
 When you are away,
I sit and stir my soup and
listen to old songs.
—————————————————–
Young eyes hold magic;
look into them, and see the
world as it could be.
————————————————–
She was beautiful,
in a way some could not see,
but God, I sure could.
—————————————————
triple haiku:So … how cold was it?
It was so cold, hot chili
was sold on a stick.

It was so cold that
when I spilled my coffee, it
didn’t splash, it broke.

It was so cold that
the polar bears were wearing
Eskimos as scarves.

————————————————————-
As I fall asleep,
whispers of memories drift
through my consciousness …
———————————————
Some words reveal truths,
some just try to sell you stuff;
wise words open hearts.
———————————————
Emphatic rainbows,
Strewing colors ‘cross the sky
Inspire our hopes.
———————————————-
Saturday snowfalls,
kids still get the day off, and
parents still shovel.
————————————————-
Outside, snowflakes fall,
comfy in my bungalow,
time for hot cocoa.
——————————————————-
Hippie drug slang like
Bogart, roach and Mary Jane …
seem kind of “quaint” now.
————————————————
Weary troubadour,
guitar slung across his back,
waits for the next bus.
———————————————
An old weathered rope,
hangs ’round a lonely fence-post,
purpose forgotten.
——————————————-
Can we ever hear
the footsteps of history
marching through our lives?
——————————————————–
T’was way too early
to come to a conclusion,
so, he simply guessed.
———————————————————
tanka haiku: 
Sirens start screaming,
in the middle of the night.
causing dogs to bark.
  Then, the neighbor’s lights go on.
I drove through their shrubs, okay?
 
—————————————————
This entry was posted in The Haikulodeon and tagged . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s