A Somewhat Blurry Friday Afternoon at the Haikulodeon

 

 

Here’s this week’s heap of haikus: 

 

 

 

Another Agnes …
my grandma, born this day in
Eighteen Ninety-one.

(Agnes Marion Mulry Tracy Tharp -1891-1951)

 

 

 

 

Wendell always wished
his yard was more like his next
door neighbor’s garden.

 

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

 

 


 

Nine haikus:

My first landlord in
New York was named Guisseppi.
He loved Bustelo.

He was a tailor
in a Long Island City
men’s suit factory.

He would tune in to
Op’ra on radio and
soccer on TV.

He drank espresso;
Bustelo espresso and
Artichoke liqueur.

He was my landlord
for over 20 years.  We
would communicate

through hand gestures for
he spoke little English and
I, no Italian.

On late Summer nights
he’d bring me tomatoes from
his backyard garden.

Sometimes we would sit
jn lawn chairs in the garden
And drink espresso.

It wsa too bitter
for my taste, but not for his.
He loved espresso.
 


A dog that sticks to
chasing, rather than chasing
sticks, has learned something.

 

 

In a rocket ship
orbiting the planet, I
photograph the moon,

 

 

The writer just smiled;
he’d heard thoughts were fleeting, but
wet ink would soon dry.

Hey! Stop nudging me!
I’ll get up in a minute …
Hit the snooze alarm.

At the twin’s law firm,
a pair of para-legals …
Double jeopardy?

Dispositions change.
Mindsets frequently evolve.
Never close a door.

Waiting for the dawn,
I lie in somber darkness,
replaying last night.

Lunch with an old friend;
laughter at shared history,
tears for tomorrow.

Double haiku:

Elegant gestures,

are sometimes ways of easing

tense relations … but ..

.

Your ‘middle finger
’ain’t no elegant gesture.
Know what I’m sayin’?


To friends, be loyal,
to enemies, forgiving …
Siblings? Persevere.

In a wooden shack,
on the outskirts of town, lived
his late uncle’s wife.

His girlfriend’s bedroom,
made him very nervous; so
dainty and perfumed.

a tangerine sky,
clouds which haunt the horizon,
lure me into night.

Dogwoods bloom at last!
Spring’s celebration of joy
finda Riverside Park.

Double haiku:

In a sleepy town,
off the beaten path, lived a
man who knew nothing.

He was fed by cows,
carried by horses and was
worshiped by his dogs.

The future, said the
gypsy, held great things … but she’d
mis-read the-tea leaves.

If you tug a thread,
keep in mind that the sweater
just might unravel.

Petals of roses,
scattered along the pathway,
hint at who’s to come.

In primeval woods
you can find stumps to sit on
while you play your flute.
 

=====

April is Spondylitis Awareness Month.  Did you know that the CDC now says that there are approx. 2.7 million Americans with some form of Spondylitis?  That’s roughly equal to the population of Chicago.

 

 

 

 

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One Response to A Somewhat Blurry Friday Afternoon at the Haikulodeon

  1. trkingmomoe says:

    Reblogged this on Trkingmomoe's Blog and commented:
    Enjoy. Sorry I was late with this.

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