A Lazy, Hazy, Crazy Friday Afternoon at the Haikulodeon

Here’s this week’s heap of haikus:

Wear a morning coat
of paint in afternoon light
while it’s evening.

I ride an old paint,
I lead an old Dan, but I’d
Rather not, y’know …


riddle-ku:

Why is a cat like
a burning monk? ‘Cuz neither’s
putting itself out.


tanka haiku:

Grandpa used to say:
troubles are like guitar strings;
you pick and play them.

(Grandpa was not real good at
making up analogies.)


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

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.

Note to Gamblers: If
you can’t bluff without laughing,
Joker, don’t poker.


haiku triplet:  
Another shooting.
Still more lives lost, more wounded.
Still too many guns.

Too many shooters
that should never own a gun,
can still get a gun.

Stop protecting the
guilty by hiding them ‘midst
all the innocent.

Life’s overwhelming
Ev’rywhere I turn, brings pain,
I’m feeling helpless

Imagine that you
invent an instrument but
never hear it play.

It is Summertime.
The livin’s easy and the
fishin’ is sublime.

(My mom in the mid-1930’s)


If he Kandinsky,
why can’t he dance-ski? I don’t
know, I’m just askin’
.

Sitting on her porch
on a Summer’s afternoon,
she feels a cool breeze.

(My maternal grandmother about 1917)

Many young girls are
embarrassed by brothers who
can’t keep their pants up.

(My dad and his older sister about 1918.)

A summer day,  young
girl and a picnic table
will make a man yearn.

( My mom around 1940-41.)

To avoid sunstroke,
she hid herself under some
very big-leafed plants.

(My mom from around 1924)

a lady bug might
fall into a manhole, but
flies will zip right up.


Ride through my garden,
park beneath the sycamore,
let me pluck your spokes.

Beauty is fleeting,
like Cinderella rushing
back home at midnight.


Married for ten years
and never an argument …
just bitter feelings.


I packed my swimsuit,
but we must carve a mountain …
hope someone brought knives.

 

Secret to success?
It’s very simple really …
showing up again.


A Novocaine dream
will often have one sub-text;
Never trust Dentists.


That was the weird thing;
it could ALL be really dumb,
Republicans don’t care.


She has a point, though
he was loathe to admit it.
He hated losing.

 

Smokey the bear says:
“A burning forest won’t be
putting itself out.”


Friendships may not last,
People grow apart, and then,
a hand is withdrawn.


If ‘er don’t like it,
the match, she won’t strike it,
smoke ’em … then poke ’em.

Many a forest
will offer stumps to sit on
while you play your flute.


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


 Clumps of tourists gawk,
in the middle of Times Square
The neon dazzles.

When she walked away,
I brought my hands to my face,
to hold in my dreams.

She sneezed her dress off
Which caused quite a kerfuffle
in the Vatican.

double haiku:

An Irish Setter,
gallops through Riverside Park,
greeting each toddler.

His owner just laughs,
reassuring scared nannys,
the dog is friendly.

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


When you have learned to
accept what you can not change;
what can’t change, just might.

As I fall asleep,
lingering memories drift
through my consciousness


As our lives go on,
our hardships may increase, so we
make bargains with God.

I am a student
and always will be. My school
is all around me.

That Summer, he took
a break from kindergarten
to pilot a boat.

(5 and 1/2 year old me “piloting” a boat on Long Island Sound.)

 

 
I feel so alone.
I watch the tide come in and
think of yesterday.

 

 
The deepening blue
gently quiets golden waves.
Nightfall approaches.

 

 

 

 

 

 

tanka haiku:

Small dogs are barking,
the TV in the bedroom
says the market’s up.

   The sun has still not risen
as we are saving daylight.

 

 

 

 

once upon a time-ku:

 

Being adult meant
a clean, folded handkerchief
in your breast pocket.

 

 

 

 

Double haiku:

My walk tired me,
I rested under a tree,
my thoughts wandering.

Alas, wandering
thoughts seldom sleep. In fact. they,
often run ahead.

 

 

 

 

I’ve been a little busy the past couple of days, so this heap feels a bit smaller than usual.  I will try adding some more haikus to it over the weekend. 

****

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