A Gorgeous Friday Afternoon at the Haikulodeon


Here’s this week’s heap of haikus:
She smiled at me and
for one brief moment we both
felt the world was safe.
She used her giggle
to attract young men, and her
savvy to keep them.
His corduroy pants,
swished as he walked up Broadway.
How … unfortunate.
Never be afraid
of mistakes, be mindful of
not learning lessons.

(Inspired by my 22 year old grand-niece, Jessica)

When I sit and read;
a pitcher of lemonade
slowly disappears.
tanka haiku: Why do you suppose
we have physical limits?
To teach us patience.

(Also, to give us something
that we can complain about.)

 Talking out loud while
watching ‘La Boheme’ is rude.
“Sotto voce, jerk!”
He yawns, then stretches …
Wonders why it’s so quiet …
Awake at sunrise.
We shall persevere
and rise again tomorrow
to tend our gardens.
Repudiate all
reasons that keep us fighting.
Let us heal our hearts.
tanka haiku: There’s no growth from pain.
Growth comes from a willingness
to endure the pain

as the cost of each lesson.
Otherwise, it’s just suffering.

 I walked through a field
to get to the main road, and
lost all track of time.
tanka haiku: Are you old enough
to recall when ‘seasonal
veggies’ meant lettuce?

Time and circumstances change;
Those that don’t adapt, will wilt.

On overcast days,
laughter bounces off the clouds,
and so, I smile twice.
My friend Jim’s response:
Second bounce laughter
sometimes full of joy, other times
full of one’s own tears
My response to Jim:
Dark clouds may loom on
the horizon, but they are
full of one’s own tears.
Jim’s response:
Sappy respond-ku 3:

Tears of sorrow scrub
dark clouds snow angel wing pure,
sunshine’s rainbow shine.
My response:

Even more sappy respond-ku 4:

Sunlight’s rainbows shine
on lollipops and puppies;
sorrow melts away.
 Alone, how are you?
Do you enjoy solitude,
or pine for others?
double haiku:
I tried to explain;
I’m not afraid, my mind turns
strangers into friends.

By that, I mean my
mind sorts through what’s new to find
what is familiar.

 Life has no meaning.
It is bleak and pointless. When
will Godot get here?

Happy, (if you want to call it that), would-have-been 107th birthday this past week to playwright Samuel Beckett.
Glowings in the sky;
Aurora Borealis …
Sounds quite magical.
tanka haiku: I’ve reached a point where
my friend’s happiness evokes
such joy that I weep.

Why is that I wonder … Our
connections breed empathy.

Triple haiku:

Outta Coffee … D’OH!
Scrounging through kitchen drawers.
Looking for tea bags.

But tea is a sad
substitute for my Java …
I crave Maxwell House.

And so, resigned, I
put on pants … and socks … and shoes
and walk to Starbucks.

The world is quite mad.
And finally …
a tanka haiku and triple haiku:

We must stop. We must.
We must stop fighting. We must.
If we don’t, we’re done.

America, you must meld;
Let diff’rent thoughts co-exist.


By that, I don’t mean
surrender or accept what’s


I mean, no-one should
die because they disagree
with the way you think.


We must live with our
neighbors*, not be driven
to madness by them.


(* I wasn’t sure whether the word should be neighbors or politics.

Feel free to use whichever word you think fits better.)

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