Another Friday afternoon at the Haikulodeon 3-15-2013

Here’s this week’s heap of haikus:
 
 
———————————–
 
 
Waiting for sunrise,
hoping for a brand new day,
I think about toast.
 
———————————————-
 
 
 Underneath an arch
on the Ides of March, Caesar’s
toga needs more starch.
 
 
 
———————————————–
 
 
tanka haiku:
 
Small dogs are barking,
the TV in the bedroom
says the market’s up.

The sun has still not risen
as we are saving daylight.

 
 
———————————————–
 
 
 
Mysteries may end,
questions aren’t always answered,
the moon hides in clouds.
 
 
 
————————————————-
 
 
A journey of joy,
may travel through darkness, but
still will shine its light.
 
 
————————————————-
 
 
Fitful nights will pass.
Sleep will overtake sadness.
I wake without you.
 
 
————————————————-
 
 
 Zany zinnias,
and petulant petunias
bloom in idiots.
 
 
————————————————
 
Pope-kus:
 
 
Pope? Infallible.
Name? Francis. Which means, of course,
he’s perfectly Frank.
 
 
 

Infallible/inflatable-ku:

 

Inflatable popes?
That’s a sick thought, and leads to
blowing altar boys.

We don’t want that kind of lapse
found in any church’s apse.

 

 

Holy See, please “Do.”
Francis the talking mullah,
would be a bad joke.

  

—————————————————
 
 
Hester and Lester
let the Sequester, fester
from yesterday’s wounds.
 
 
—————————————————-
 
 
 
Double haiku:
 
My walk tired me,
I rested under a tree,
my thoughts wandering.
 
 
Alas, wandering
thoughts seldom sleep. In fact. they,
often run ahead.
 
 
——————————————————
 
 

Down a garden path,
that leads to a wooden bench,
I find solitude.

 

——————————————————

 

Comes the debacle,
will you hunker down or flee?
Stand and be counted!

 
 
 
 
——————————————————–
 

 

 

 
Whistle happy tunes
while riding tractors through fields …
it calms the flowers.

 
 
 —————————————————–
 
 
A willow longs for,
A brook over which to weep,
The brook loves the tears.
 
 
—————————————————–
 
 
They are determined,
small, yellow dandelions,
that push through sidewalks.
 
 
—————————————————–
 
 

Troubles never last;

like cream poured into coffee,

they’ll soon swirl away.

 

 

—————————-

 

tanka kindergarten-ku: 
 
She grabbed some paper,
opened up her crayon box,
and began to draw …
   
scribbling wildly,  in 
huge letters, she signed her name.
 
 
 
——————————————————-
 
 

After the rainstorm,
the park looked so lush and green
he wished for his youth.

 

—————————————————–

 

I recall  fondly
how one rainy afternoon
we ‘shared’ an awning.

 

——————————————————

 

A little short this week.  Sorry ’bout that.  I’ll try to make up for it next week. 

 

 

 

This entry was posted in The Haikulodeon. 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