A Well Deserved Friday Afternoon at the Haikulodeon


Here’s this week’s heap of haikus:


Bring your broken-ness
to the altar of repairs …
Hallelujah, fixed.


When Titanic sank …
Young Leo DiCaprio’s
heart did not go on.

( April 15, 1912 – Down goes Titanic …)





We fight our demons
as if they have some meaning
to anyone else.


“Demons” by Imagine Dragons – lead singer – Dan Reynolds  (FYI – a fellow Spondy)


We seldom notice
the slow erosion of Life.
We’re focused elsewhere.


My spirit will not
be crushed at your insistence
I will persevere




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


A doormat thrown in
the trash has obviously
worn out its welcome.


They say that I am
hopelessly optimistic …
I just hope they’re right.




 Double Diner-ku:

Eggs over easy
bacon, toast and home fries; on
some mis-matched china.

Men in overalls
listen to the farm report
an’ talk ’bout football.

Echoes of sunrise,
fade from the bluing sky; the
moon goes back to sleep.

Through each tortured night,
he tossed and turned in bed, then
dreamt of his ex-wives.


The train ‘clacks’ along.
I stare out the window as
lush meadows rush by.





Tending your garden,
know that zinnias will thrive
where fuschias wither.



She’s tilting forward …
(She is wearing 6 inch heels!)
Precarious Chic.





Crank the Victrola,
clear away the rugs and give
the maid the night off!







An eager puppy,
wags his tail, strains his leash and
makes many new friends!


Memorized poems
hide inside our heads, waiting
to re-inspire.


Her world’s no larger
than the width of her bed and
the depth of her dreams.

Waiting by the door,
a shy young girl fidgets with
a yellow wrist-band.

Japanese maples
rustle noiselessly outside
while her mother sleeps.



tanka haiku:

Summer days of youth,
running through fields, resting ‘neath
the shade of an oak.

Then riding bikes to the park,
and playing ‘ball ’til supper.

The pre-war building
stood in stark contrast to the
post-war skyscrapers.

Those being drenched may
not always feel as if they
are blessed by the storm.

A wastebasket filled
with crumpled papers marks a
young writer’s progress.


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

In musty attics,
boxes of old photographs
stuffed with memories


If you have a job
with no time parameters,
you must be shiftless.

Like sails on schooners,
the bed sheets billowed, while pinned
to mother’s clothesline.

Half opened window …
A world on each side … Do you
look in or stare out?

Optimism is
one’s willingness to believe
in happy endings.  


On Avenue A,
scores of scrawny skateboarders,
dodge hippies on bikes.



Ev’ry Flea Market
has old folks who’ll wrestle you
for Fiestaware.




The more I focus
on subtle details, the more
I’m drawn into Life.






A downtown cafe …
lovers cuddle in a booth,
sharing fajitas.



To remember love
is to journey through the soul
and restore the heart.




A tall glass of juice,
is no substitute for a
big mug of coffee.





tanka haiku:


From the cab of his
pickup, he could see the smoke
rise from the chimney.

But it was nearly sunrise,
and he can’t wait for breakfast.





 I sail into the
darkness.  The sunset leaves me
without any friends.

(Photo courtesy Kristina Rebelo)






double haiku:

The screen door slams shut.
An angry young man runs to
his car and ‘peels out.’

She watches from the window
and prays that her sadness ends.



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