A Dog Day Friday Afternoon at the Haikulodeon

Here’s this week’s heap of haikus:

triple haiku:

O’er the crest of the
hill, beyond the turn in the
road … where hope resides.

turn the corner, lift
up the veil, enter darkened
rooms, destiny waits.

Do not be fearful.
Trust that no harm will come, for
you have much to do.

To whine is but to
rant with specificity.
Silly lad, rant on.

I’m tired of the
season.  I wish it would end.
The Summer doldrums.

tanka haiku:
With fingers tappin’
on the 88’s,  ‘bones wail,
lips blowin’ on ‘sticks’

filling rainy nights with tears,
There, there, lemme buya beer


As her ‘crush’ approached,
she giggled like a schoolgirl,
her face turning red.

He lay beside her,
getting stains on his jeans from
the freshly cut grass.

Kicking off flip-flops,
She ran down the beach and stepped
on a jellyfish.

Laurel and Hardy
were pushed into anarchy
by circumstances.

Stan and Oliver
were at odds with a complex
and mechanized world.

tanka haiku:

Peter Stuyvesant
plants a pear tree.  It flourished
for two hundred years.

Then, as so often happens,
a horse and cart knocked it down.

(The Northeast Corner of East 13th St. and 3rd Avenue in NYC.  The pear tree survived from 1647 to 1867…Pictured here in 1863.   I recall back in the late 1980’s trying to sell apartments in the building on the Northeast corner of 13th St. and Third Avenue, which the developer named Pear Tree Place, as his tribute to the Pear tree that, according to legend, once flourished on the corner in front of his building. .)


Offering a toast,
stuttering, swallowing hard,
she choked back the tears.

 

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

(Photo courtesy Kristina Rebelo)

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.


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

It’s not a surprise
Sesame Street is moving
It’s gentrification.

Skirts dusted the ground,
All the men wore bowler hats.
Traffic?  Chaotic.

(Colorized photo of New York from 1905)

If there’s any doubt
That MadMen have no morals …
Look who smokes Pall Mall.


Where better to go
when you want a piece of pie …
then the automat?

Ma, where’s my pa? Gone
to the White House, ha, ha, ha!
(Turns out, she was right.)


The wind fills our sails,
we glide ‘gainst a golden sky
Sea salt in our hair.

When it comes to a
thermos nuclear war, it’s
bring your own lunch box.


The most courageous
words ever spoken, must be,
‘So … let us go on.’

Good to remember –
Most great civilizations
have risen from swamps.

 double haiku:
The screen door slams shut.
An angry young man ‘walks’ to
his car and ‘peels out.’

A young girl watches
from the window and prays that
her sadness will mend.

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

Skies with quiet clouds,
a boardwalk sparsely peopled,
old folks lost in thought.


Even though he’d won,
his thoughts remained fixated,
on what he had lost.


at Laura’s front door,
young boys stammer, hesitate,
… and plead for a kiss.

 


Simply looking back,
Well, honestly, what’s the point,
If you can’t re-write?

Disguising some swans
as prima ballerinas
takes stepping on toes.


He whispers her name,
as he lies in bed at night,
so his dreams find her.

As the Summer wans
the golden voice of autumn
soon starts to whisper.

He could not keep her
back in the day,  now ‘what ifs’
pester him all night.

Overgrown grass hides,
a long neglected tombstone;
a child forgotten.

From a small garden
an enormous sunflower
reaches for the sky.


Her slender fingers,
caressed his unshaven face,
He smiled. They made love.


I hear distant trains
and imagine going home …
whistles on the wind.

The fabric of Life;
From order to chaos, we
slowly unravel.


After the rainstorm
shimmering shafts of sunshine,
broke through the dark clouds.


Who have you steadied?
Whose heart have you opened? Whose
dreams have you unleashed?

****

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