A Silly Friday Afternoon at the Haikulodeon

 

 

Here’s this week’s heap of haikus:

 

 

 

The scent of jasmine
scatters as the door is slammed
and she rushes out.
 

 

Through a painter’s eyes,
and a poet’s soul, he found
beauty ev’rywhere.
 

 

 

They were on a lark,
when they met an old school mate
living on the street.

 

 
 

 

 

The quick red fox jumped
o’er lazy typewriters, owned
by sleeping brown dogs.

 

 

He stepped off the bus …
and was run over by a
d*mned bike messenger.

 

 

Few shall ever know
private failures we endure,
unless we succeed …

 

 

“Stained glass is easy,
Comedy is hard” – Louis
Tiffany Lampshade.

 

A girl and her mom

stroll through Madison Square Park

after eating lunch.

 

 

Waiting patiently
for the next train to New York,
I make up stories.

 

 

 

Double haiku:  

Her heart wept when she
found some old love letters and
forgot who wrote them.
 
The letters revealed
the seeds of her broken heart
and now, the harvest.

 

 

If you choose to use
a magnifying glass, know
that you will find flaws.

 

 

No wishful thinking
can turn apples into plums.
Apple sauce? Perhaps.
 
 


 

 
 
Clearly embarrassed,
The teen excuses herself,
dashing from the room.

 

 

Plaid lumberjack shirt
o’er black tights and blue tattoos;
hot babe on 4th St.

 

 

 

As the setting sun
melts into the horizon,
stripes along the shore.

( Photo courtesy of Kristina Rebelo )

 

Another photo
ruined by the arrival
of young Lex Luthor.

( Photo courtesy of Kristina Rebelo )
 

 

 

 a haiku quintet:

Life on the frontier
was not easy for Patience,
a young pioneer.

Crouching underneath,
Conestoga wagons, she
did her needlework.

Riding on buckboards
for long afternoons she would
do her homework.

She reached Montana
at the age of eight, and could
read and write … and sew.

Prairie adventures
would settle into quiet
domesticity.

 

 

 

 

 In Life, know two things;
That dog will keep barking, and
that train’s movin’ on.
 
 

 

Sometimes I’m awake,
When I should be fast asleep,
dreaming I’m awake.

 

 

The intensity
of this quiet afternoon,
has emboldened me.
 

 

 

 

Poems and babies
can make fools out of us all …
“Ooooo, haiku-cheee-kooooo!”

 

 

 

 

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

 

 

 

 You think you’ve won, BUT …
Like the phoenix from ashes,
I shall rise again!
 

 

 alliterative tanka haiku:
 
Pa peddled papers,
Ma mostly mixed martinis.
Sis sewed sombreros.

I, inadvertently, inked,
(in innocence), irked insights.
 
 

 
 

Standing in a field,
listening to the night’s sounds …
I am comforted.

 

 

A whisper, a glance …
her touch lasts but a moment,
yet his world is changed.

 

 

Make your teabags steep,
If gradually inclined,
tea will get cozy.

 

 

 

 tanka haiku:
 
Clinging to her form,
the diaphanous gown made
her ethereal.

As she stood in the moonlight,
she glowed with Love’s own glory.

 

 

A leaf-less tree frames
a lonely farm-house in the
middle of nowhere.
 

 

 

There is a structure
to all things, and a context
to fence it all in.

 

 

All fields have a fence.
All lives have a purpose; You
must repair your fence.

 

 

Walking through meadows
just before sunrise is worth
some wet trouser cuffs.
 
 

 

I drove through the night
 to get to your front door and
 beg you to be mine.

 

 

 

 

When my mind escapes
from thoughts that weigh it down, it
soars above the clouds.
 

 

 

 tanka haiku:
 
Swing your feet in a
placid pond. The ripples prove
our lives have meaning.

Ev’rything we do affects
ev’rything else in the world.

 

We may never know
what winds blow thoughts through our
minds,
which swirl up our past.
 

 

 

 tanka hai-clue-less:

 

Ev’ry so often
he got a prank call that he
did not understand.

Why would teenage boys care if
Prince Albert was in the can?
 
 

 

 

When you have a lot
that’s on your mind, let your day
begin quietly.

 

 

A humid morning,
across the street, some workers
sip coffee and smoke.

 

 

Coral begonias
offered a quiet contrast
to the yellow mums.

 

 

One joke too many,
in a month already stuffed
with hilarity.

 

On a street corner,
an old woman glares at me.
I look like her son.

 

 

In the garden of
a castle in Ireland,
they became engaged.

(Congrats to my beautiful grand-niece Jessica and her now fiance, Kyle.)

 

Memories still pop
into my addled brain, to
amuse duller thoughts.

 

 

He sang as he drove
down a lonely stretch of road,
waving at road-kill.

 

 

Try imagining,
that strangers you encounter,
are friends from past lives.

 


 
 
Across the river,
lies a land where dreams still thrive.
We must build a bridge.

 

 

 

Tis no surprise that

loveliness knows loneliness;

beauty makes us shy.

 

***

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