An Extremely Late Friday Afternoon at the Haikulodeon

 

Here’s this week’s heap of haikus:

Still feels like Winter
All I do is stare at the
flower wallpaper.

Wearing a sweatshirt,
I nurse a cup of Joe and
read the New York Times.

There is a large crowd,
lined up ’round Tompkins Square Park.
Bread line?  Movie Shoot.
 

 Clumps of tourists gawk,
in the middle of Times Square
The neon dazzles.

His tortured soul found
small measures of contentment
just beyond its reach.

When she walked away,
I brought my hands to my face,
to hold in my dreams.

A New Yorker in
an Oklahoma dorm room,
soon downs his first Coors.

Traffic-clogged streets made
worse by double parked trucks, and
dumb damned dog walkers.

She sneezed her dress off
Which caused quite a kerfuffle
in the Library.
 

Alone at Midnight
walking through old neighborhoods
searching for my past.

Suddenly, footsteps!
A shadow in the doorway …
Then, a match is struck.

After the rainstorm,
the city’s lights shimmered in
street corner puddles

double haiku:

An Irish Setter,
gallops through Riverside Park,
greeting each toddler.

His owner just laughs,
reassuring scared nannys,
the dog is friendly.

Each day, he walked through
his garden and picked a rose
to place on her grave.
 

Silent are the trees
through harsh winters, stoically,
they wait for the Spring.
 
 

Swirling embers rise,
riding a smoky breeze, then
die, and fall to earth.

Souls forge truth and hope,
while minds dream up fantasies
and hearts search for love.

I walked through a field
to get to the main road, and
lost all track of time.

Glowings in the sky;
Aurora Borealis …
looks quite magical.

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.

tanka haiku:

96th Street’s ramp
to the West Side Highway is
a thing of beauty.

   A tree-lined, curved underpass
   with a view of the Hudson.

Autumn in New York,
leaves crackle underfoot as
we stroll through the park.

A wedge of cheddar
a slice of apple pie and
things are lookin’ up.

Wistful reminders
of what you mean to me, are
shoved under my bed.

Whispering willows,
drive the other trees crazy.
Why can’t they speak up?

This is the Future
that you dreamed about while you
sat in Study Hall.


 
Good God, she’s naked!!
He wasn’t often flummoxed,
but this … well … gee whiz!

Simple Simon met
a pie-man, who’d sold his pies,
Simon sez “Hands up!”

My heart lives near the
sycamore and still blossoms
after ev’ry rain.

Here is a lesson
to be learned and not forgot;
While music plays, dance.

Your world’s no larger
than the size of your heart and
the depth of your dreams.

If you want the world
to be your oyster, it helps
to know how to shuck.

 

 

Rivers of flowers
flow through California fields
far as eyes can see.

(Thanks to Kristina Rebelo for the use of her photograph.)
 

 

 
 
Will you shine a light
to help us pierce the darkness?
April’s almost here!

 

 

 

 

 

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One Response to An Extremely Late Friday Afternoon at the Haikulodeon

  1. trkingmomoe says:

    Reblogged this on Trkingmomoe's Blog and commented:
    Thank you again for these wonderful haiku

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