A Lazy, Hazy, Crazy Friday Afternoon at the Haikulodeon

Here’s this week’s heap of haikus:

A beach umbrella
keeps a lonely vigil as
the tide starts to turn.

(Photo courtesy of Kristina Rebelo)

Cool September night
A golden moon is shining o’er
the harvested fields 

(Photo courtesy of Kristina Rebelo)

I did not have you
standing with me, but always
you were in my heart.

As day turns to dusk,
neatly anchored sloops slowly
bob in the harbor.

(Photo courtesy of Kristina Rebelo)

I wish I had known
how to give what you needed.
I was such a fool.

Hailing a taxi,
her scarf flutters in the breeze.
God, I wish she’d stay.

He tried to please her,
he tried to reason with her,
she tried his patience.

If you own a gun,
you’ve agreed to a world where
shooting’s an option.

A curious mind,
some spirited pondering …
Voila, fresh insights.

 We both know that she
is fishing for compliments …
(Get me off the hook.)


Cynicism is
easy, Optimism hard.
The sky is still blue.

Do you feel the world
is here for your amusement,
or you for the world’s?

It’s often said that
mischief stalks the mundane to
make it laughable  bearable.

A dagger as sharp
as a lover’s rebuke has
not been invented.

Blessed are those that
never got sick, for old age
will be a surprise.

He felt so awkward
in the glittering ballroom
with his two left feet.

Red-headed co-eds …
Ragtime on the radio …
Remnants of past lives.

Sticks of patchouli,
smouldered in his messy room,
his mom was incensed.

An old weathered rope,
hangs ’round a lonely fence-post;
purpose forgotten.

tanka TV-ku:

Horizontal lines,
adjust the Vertical Hold,
play with Rabbit Ears.

TVs were simple once. Now,
you need to call Tech Support.

Though she pined for him,
she could not find a way to
gracefully forgive.

He sits quietly
on a stool in a diner
and stares at his soup.

Silent surrender;
she flops onto the sofa
and turns on TV.

In the apple tree
sat a happy little boy
dangling his feet.


Just twenty-one years
separate “Casablanca”
from “Meet the Beatles” …

A yellow note was
pasted on the scaffolding …
“Soft heads need hard hats.”

Pretending we’ll meet,
each time I turn a corner
makes me walk faster.

Stuck on sandy beach?
Quick, call the Police!  Umm … Wait.
We ARE the Police.

(Photo courtesy of Kristina Rebelo)

Although her heart ached
in the middle of the night,
by dawn, it had healed.

Words had no effect,
so, reluctantly, he tried
throwing sticks and stones.


Quiet young ladies
sit in Starbucks and “like” their
own Facebook comments.


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