Too Late to be a Friday Afternoon at the Haikulodeon



Here’s this week’s heap of haikus:

A suicidal
watermelon’s a sure sign
that Summer’s over.

( Un-retouched photo of W. 108th St. sidewalk last Monday morning. )

(So, I said to myself, “It’s September, maybe you could write a

haiku with ‘falling leaves’ in it” … this is what came out:)

Since falling leaves me
vulnerable, it is not,
my friend, an option.

then this …

Through an iron fence,
I watch Autumn leaves fall on
empty park benches.

Soothing melodies
ran through his head, thanks in part
to his new iPod.

There, on the sidewalk,
I spied a crumpled dollar
which looked a bit spent.

 Coming down the steps,
she held onto the handrail
with a fierce-some grip.

 Driftwood in the sand,
long removed from livelihood
this soul-less tree branch.

Labor Day double haiku:

Forty hour work weeks,
Safety and child labor laws …
a minimum wage.

Unions, walk outs, strikes,
picket lines, arbitration …
Which side are you on?


Another hard week,
in a string of tough years … Still,
I’m boogie chillen’.

Roots of rock n’ roll,
buried in the delta blues,
warmed by Memphis Sun.

On grey, rainy days,
she first sulked at the window,
then, wished for blue skies.

They sway with the breeze,
which is why her little dog,
barks at sunflowers.

It’s not the way I
don’t do things that matters, it’s
the way I forget.

double haiku:

It’s three fifteen, and
wakened from a sad dream, I
try to clear my head.

Thoughts of you linger
and entwine with my day’s chores.
You still haunt my heart.

tru-ku: My eye doctor was
so short, she stood on a box
to do surgery …

You can malinger
or even procrastinate …
long as it gets done.



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