A Frequently Freezing Friday Afternoon at the Haikulodeon

Here’s this week’s heap of haikus:






A knock at the door.
her face rings a bell  … My past
has caught up with me.









A slice of apple,
a wedge of sharp cheddar cheese,
And a well-worn book.







Hand-made paper clips …
reported by  … ly Ballou.
All hail, Bob and Ray!


(The great Bob Elliot passed away this week, age 92.  RIP)



Bonus Bob and Ray!!







Despite commitments
and their vows of devotion,
Love would foil their plans.







Sometimes I’m awake,
When I should be fast asleep,
dreaming I’m awake.






Cloudy afternoon.
On the path near the foot bridge …
deliberate steps.

Leon Kroll, Scene in Central Park, 1922







Slouched in a corner,
of a dingy juke joint, a
young man learns the blues.






The old cobblestones
on the bridge to Morey are
a bit uneven.

Le Pont de Morey,- Alfred Sisley







If the world’s a stage,
And people are the players,
Who’s in charge of props?









Scouts on camping trips,
Lovers caught in passion’s throes,
Neither needs matches.





Cold wind, freezing sleet,
and an angry dog make me
wish I had stayed home.








He sat in his room
and played a lonely waltz on
his concertina.








The harsh winter will
argue against the thaw, but
soon, the warmth returns.






I am all aswirl,
y’see, I’ve met a girl and
I’m dizzy from love.




Quietly they slept,
in a field of bluebonnets;
his head in her lap.









In the swirls of clouds,
where we imagine heaven,
hopes and dreams re-form.







Wish the snow would go
from being to nothingness …?
Sartre should shovel.





Another snowstorm,
another chance to enjoy
quiet time at home.








Young eyes hold magic;
look into them, and see the
world as it could be.






tanka haiku:


On a corner lot,
a two-story brick building
is all that remains.

Glories of another time,
too soon reduced to rubble.




triple haiku:


The cinnamon toast
was brown and speckled and the
buttered oatmeal hot.


At his cousin’s house,
breakfast was a ritual
he found confusing.

“Where’s the Cheerios?”
he asked, “And why honeydews,
this isn’t Sunday!”






tanka haiku:


We fight our whole lives
to thrive in the world of our
parents, only to

discover that we’re living
in the world of our children.







A sliver of moon,
slicing through the clouds … restless
shadows roam the fields.





In the darkest night,
there remains an ember which
will re-light the dawn.




Waiting patiently …
for bad news that never comes
is called, taking naps.





(Photo courtesy Kristina Rebelo)





Her bleeding heart mixed
with his bloody ignorance;
Their coronary.






Snow frosted treetops
on arctic traffic islands
clear streets and sidewalks.






“Dude … aren’t we getting
way too old for this sh*t?”  “You’re
the endless bummer.”


(Photo courtesy Kristina Rebelo)




A gentle snowfall,
a horse and buggy waiting
for a passenger.



Alfred Stieglitz 1901






Spiritual lust
will infect fevered sinners
amidst communion.






Do you spend your days
creating calamities?
or mopping them up?






Snow defiantly
sits on a shaky tree limb.
Winds plot against it.





Sometimes we forget;
before we ski down mountains,
we first must climb them.



Poppa sold pretzels
People waiting for trollies
could not get enough.






Strolling through the Park
ladies with their parasols
Summer afternoon.


Luther Van Gorder – In the Park  ( before 1899 )








 tanka haiku:

Where there is no path,
I will make one. Where no-one
knows, there I will teach.

  One step begins each journey.
Each journey shall teach new steps.





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