A Pre-Super Friday Afternoon at the Haikulodeon

Here’s this week’s heap of haikus:

Rod McKuen’s died.
All Jean would say is that he
couldn’t sing either.

(Just kidding – RIP Rod McKuen )


Those little evils
buried in our souls, may smile
in spite of themselves.

I yearn for Spring, when
lilacs in the front yard bloom
and eager hearts melt.

(Photo courtesy Kristina Rebelo)

With each sunrise,
the dramas of Life resume
and we step onstage.


Short stack of pancakes,
coffee on the side … Eat. Drink.
Pay the tab and go.

Waveland Motel is
where Queen Elizabeth meets
Miss America.

(photo courtesy Tom Contrino)

tanka haiku: When snow turns to ice,
and bitter winds sting my face,
I think of baseball.

For Spring gets ever closer
and umps soon will shout, “Play Ball!”

Though fragile hearts need
whispered blessings, they also
need a steady hand.

Despite majestic
morns and lazy afternoons …
All days end in fire.

Resting in the shade,
young men tried to make sense of
the horrors of war.

(Japanese shelter)

( Japanese warehouse )

(Chopped up trees after the battle)
The battle of Kwajalein Island began 71 years ago (January 31, 1944.) 
My dad was there and took these photos.

Fitful nights will end.
Sleep will overtake sadness.
Things will be alright.

Lying in a field,
my ancestors looked at clouds
and dreamt of my life.

What you are drawn to,
has within it, the lesson
that you need to learn.

Dimly lit streetlamps
dot a snowy path that winds
through Riverside Park.

Silhouettes of trees
turn my river view into
a jigsaw puzzle.

Don’t resist urges …
impulsive desires will
often point the way.

My heart imagines
your passionate love for me,
How long must I dream?

Oh my dear sweet love,
when you’re near me, my heart leaps
and I’m filled with joy!

His heart had grown old,
his spirit, weak and flagging,
Love had shut its door.

T’was love at first sight,
First, he tickled her fancy,
And then, so much more.

Since the day we met,
the creases formed by your smile,
haved lived in my thoughts.

Two hearts beat as one …
which begs the question; How high
is their blood pressure?

A sincere heart is,
more likely to change the world,
than a reasoned thought.

 A downtown cafe …
lovers cuddle in a booth,
and share their dessert.

Outside my window,
furious snowflakes mingle,
fearful pigeons roost.

When you are away,
I sit and stir my soup and
listen to sad songs.

Sometimes if you stare
hard enough you can convince
folks of anything.

(Marcel Duchamp as photographed by a former neighbor, the amazing Tony Vacarro.)

after each heartache
a glistening beach at dawn
eases my sorrow.

(photo courtesy Kristina Rebelo)

morning reflections
may take a bit of time to
come into focus.

(photo courtesy Kristina Rebelo)


Don’t become smitten
with young maids you have bitten;
there’s too much at stake.

Skies with quiet clouds,
boardwalks sparsely peopled with
Old folks lost in thought.

L. L. Bean, Best Buy,
Mrs Field’s Cookies, Macys …
Mall s assimilate.

Do not weep all night
then wonder why the world seems
so full of teardrops.


In looking for some bonus material, I came across this old poem:

late at night
a lonely man
walks down a quiet street

in the middle of the sidewalk
just ahead of him
sits a bird

as he approaches
the lonely man whispers “shoo!”
but the bird stays still

what an odd thing
the lonely man thinks
to see a bird sitting

in the middle of a sidewalk
on a quiet street
in the middle of the night

he wonders if it is hurt, but then he notices
that the bird is aware of him standing there
but still it does not move

the bird just turns its head slightly back and forth
and opens and closes its beak
but the rest of the bird does not move

the lonely man takes his cane and brings it
to within half an inch of the bird
but still it does not move.

the lonely man studies the bird for a moment
it seems almost sweetly, innocently unaware of its own peril
its head pays no attention to the failure
that has obviously occurred in its body

How long has it to live, thinks the lonely man
How long will it survive, unprotected and alone

unable to bend down to reach the bird
the lonely man trudges home to sleep a fitful sleep

the next morning as the sun rises
on the quiet sidewalk
so does the lonely man

he looks for the bird but it is gone
the sidewalk is clear
imagine a merciful end.


This entry was posted in The Haikulodeon. Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s