A Flattering Friday Afternoon at the Haikulodeon

Here’s this week’s heap of haikus:


An over-dose of
an antidote, will become
a poison itself.
In this worldly realm,
folks often mistake kindness
for passivity.
She removes his shirt,
He unbuttons her pink blouse,
Then, the doorbell rings.





Under the fronds of
a coconut tree there’s a
nest of orioles.


( A St. Lucia Oriole as drawn by my brother-in-law, Jonathan Greenberg.)






Hot dogs and ice cream
On Coney Island’s Boardwalk …
kids eat ev’rything

Behind ev’ry man,
there’s always a woman … and
she is exhausted.


(A song cut from “Anyone Can Whistle” a Broadway musical flop written by Stephen Sondheim, which starred Angela Lansbury and Lee Remick. )



Animated Art
drawn by Vincent Van-Gogh, does
leave an impression.





I can’t wait ’til the
world begins to bloom and I’m
walking into Spring.

(The Okee Dokee Brothers – Walking into Spring)



Bang, Zoom, to the moon!
But baby, you’re the greatest!
And away we go!

(Happy would-have been 100th birthday to Jackie Gleason.)





 A fishing village
across the gulf from Marseilles,
sharing the sunshine


Paul Cézanne (1839–1906) | The Gulf of Marseilles Seen from L’Estaque | ca. 1885










Plum blossoms on trees
warily appear. Children
still play in the snow.






Pairs of well-worn shoes
indicate unsatisfied

Catastrophic muck,
Mercury’s in retrograde …
Cosmic forces arrggghhh!









 Its been a long day
and we’ve both said way too much …
we should go to bed.








Winds and steady rain,
gloomy, soggy, walk to work,
puddles in my path.




Sitting on the couch,
playing Scrabble while they wait,
For her mom’s bedtime.




The “Quiet Beatle”
You want to know a secret?
His guitar still weeps.


( Happy Would have been 73rd birthday the other day to George Harrison)






Neither wilt, nor pause,
nor hesitate, nor waiver,
the world’s still turning.

Cold and rainy nights,
comfort the lonely, who shed
their tears un-noticed.

Dreams will fade away,
past pleasures too, as the night’s
fog envelopes us.

Putting on greasepaint,
actors fret about their lines;
Will makeup hide them?

(a short story told in nine haikus:)
His older sister
showed him how to dance with girls.
His next step … call one.

He thought he would wait
’til later, but his sister
handed him the phone …

Starting to panic.
he prayed that she was not home.
‘Hi Penelope!’ …

He paused, then stammered,
‘Are you going to the dance?’
(She was … with Tommy.)

Four phone calls later …
the nervousness was gone, now
he was desperate.

He decided to stop
calling cheerleaders and try
his friend from math class

She said, ‘I don’t dance,
but I would like to see you,
so I’d love to go.’

His gloom turned into
elation! He had a date!
And a girl liked him!

That night, his homework
did not get done, but lessons
were, most surely, learned,

Do you feel kinship
with a complete stranger that
shares the same ring-tone?

Angled, mangled, flanged,
that old desk has many faults,
I can’t throw it out!

tanka haiku:
How you enter rooms,
shows how you deal with your life,
Boldly? Shyly? Sad?

   Some folks hesitate, then go,
others can not find the key.

alone again, he’s
forced to face failure with no
shoulder to cry on.



double haiku:


Filtering his thoughts,
he decided not to say
how he really felt.

For she would only
get mad and begin to cry.
He loathed all her friends.


purple wads of gum
from underneath the desk kept
sticking to her legs.

double haiku:


The dawn was breaking
as he opened the door and
went for a long walk.

On his way back, he
bought coffee, a schmeared bagel
and the New York Times.







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






Wishing on a star,
hoping for the future, she
joyfully began.








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







sipping his coffee,
he glanced at the newspaper,
but still thought of her.








His steak was well done.
He liked it medium, which
is rarely done well.







He knew a woman
who lived quite far away, and
wished to be with her.






he spent all morning
vehemently denying
that he was involved.




A heart that wanders
may never take root in the
patch where true love waits.





 When you are swimming,
you don’t think about drowning.
So it is with Life.  








The weathered shingles
on the cottage by the lake,
need to be repaired.







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






 Silent are the trees
through harsh winters, stoically,
they wait for the Spring.




Nuzzling pillows
under a down comforter,
she fought waking up.




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