A Smoke-clearing Friday Afternoon at the Haikulodeon

Here’s this week’s heap of haikus:
Ha, ha, ha, it’s Spring!
The lap-dogs of Winter are
in retreat! Hoo-ray!!


This, in essence, was
the plan our moms had for us;
wear us out, we’d sleep.

Once a year, Pi day
comes around. It should be squared.
But never mind that.

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

Puddles ripple at
the edge of a lonely street.
Intermittent rain.

A tangle of trees
may clutter the morning sky
but happily so.

Waiting for the dawn,
he lay in somber darkness,
replaying events.

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

Dogwoods bloom at last!
Spring’s celebration of joy
finds 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.

A lonely bus stop
on a Monday afternoon
I count the taxis.

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

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

Alone at Midnight
walking through old neighborhoods,
prompts strange memories.

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

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.

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

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

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 tiny sparrow
is chased by a feisty pup
pulling a young girl.

If you only stand
facing West, than nothing will
ever dawn on you.

Young men that follow
H. Greely’s advice, will one
day be going East.

Ripped from the headlines-ku:
An explosion rocked
my neighborhood, and yet I
did not hear a thing.

That is, until the
helicopters and fire trucks
rushed onto the scene.

four blocks from where I
work, the burning buildings would
sadly, soon collapse.

The green glow of night,
a downtown drenched in fog, an
escape by subway …

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

It’s sad when ‘modern’
is said to be passe; the
future is finished.

The light from my room
spills onto a snowy roof,
Icy shadows flee.

Locomotives rush
across bridges and I think
of Buster Keaton.

The small magpie roosts
on a flowering plum tree,
a warm sun shining.

Over a basin
a woman washes off an
amorous pursuit.

By the lilly pond,
she shed her inhibitions,
and from there we fell.

Tulips in the field
chase away receding snow
clearing paths for Spring

double haiku:

If my soul’s taken
before I should awaken,
am I forsaken?

don’t think your soul’s gone
when you’re sleeping past dawn; you
might wake on the lawn.

No longer straight-laced,
They have, no doubt, lost their soles …
When work boots go bad.

To the Master, let
praise and cheers be given, for
he has changed our world.

(Happy 85th birthday this past week to Broadway legend Stephen Sondheim!)  http://www.broadway.com/buzz/180031/happy-birthday-stephen-sondheim-check-out-our-list-of-your-85-best-songs/

An anemone.
yearns to be a violet,
but feels conflicted.

  Tanka haiku:

  For long term illness,
Life on a biologic,
Is no miracle.

   It’s a reminder of what
might have been … and that’s enough.

 Too many wind chimes,
not enough jello shots; the
story of her life.


He framed her photo
in the hope that her spirit
would never leave him.

A lonely bus stop
on a Monday afternoon
I count the taxis.

You must cover stops
to start the music …  take your
piccolo and blow.

He hesitated,
needing to sharpen his edge.
Time was almost gone.

She wore gingham and
polka dot dresses, which made
her seem cartoon-ish.

Old men and eye drops;
As if we need more proof our
aim ain’t what it was.

But in the end, you
will give up ev’rything to
do what you like most.

As I fall asleep,
whispers and memories drift
through my consciousness

In a wicker chair
by the sea shore, sits a young
temptress dressed in blue.


April is Spondylitis Awareness Month. 

We are walking again this year to raise awareness…

YOU can join us!  For more info go to:


My team is The Spondyville Fusers.

We’re looking for more members!

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3 Responses to A Smoke-clearing Friday Afternoon at the Haikulodeon

  1. trkingmomoe says:

    I just shared you. I had to relearn word press they changed a few things. I had to figure out also how to change my header picture. It had been a while since I had done that. I wish they would quit changing stuff every year. I just get it down to a science and they throw in new stuff.

  2. trkingmomoe says:

    Reblogged this on Once Upon a Paradigm and commented:
    Time for some poetry.

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