Playin’ the Poem Card on a Friday Afternoon at the Haikulodeon





Here’s this week’s heap of haikus:



I often wonder
what cows in fields must think when
men on bikes ride by.



Elements of style,
Hallmarks of erudition …
Shut up, already.




I feel quite blessed for
I am easily happy-ed
and slow to sadden.





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



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




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






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


(My maternal grandmother about 1917)




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




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





 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.





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





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.





At the Hootenanny,
he fell in love with Mary,
sans Peter and Paul.




Debating a duck
ain’t easy; it depends what
topic’s on the bill.



Crushing a spirit
through humiliation is
what breeds most evil.



Nut-so or Schizo,
it strains at the wits so,
I use Ju-jitso.



double haiku:

Riding the porch swing,
we kiss while listening for
your father’s footsteps.

The moonlight creates
shadows which tease my desire
your allure is pure.

Fitful nights will pass.
Sleep will overtake sadness.
A new day will dawn.


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




He felt bottled up
by Scottish fashion designs …
“Take heed, it kilt me.”




tanka haiku:


Men of La Mancha
spend most days just straightening
the tilted windmills.

A knight in Gail will sing at dawn
following romantic ‘dreams’.







Regrets percolate
under calm demeanors and
drip grounds for divorce.







She’d prove, she said, her
state of emergency … by
hardly emerging.



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



It was a new look
for the British embassy …
and a lot more fun!


(Photo courtesy Kristina Rebelo)





Architecture that
inspired awe surrounded us,
and we tore it down.


(The old Penn Station, 1936. Photo by Berenice Abbott.)




An over-dose of
an antidote, will become
a poison itself.


On the road of Life,
focus on what drives your heart,
not the radio.




… and Hope shall lead them,
it shines through darkness … besides,
who else knows the way?



South wind, cloudy sky
the ever-present mountain
never once asks why.

Katsushika Hokusai (Japanese, 1760–1849) | Red Fuji




tanka haiku:
Alas, we live in
a linear existence;
the Past is prologue.

But that is only because
we are walking in circles





The setting sun sinks
into the ocean, stealing
all light from the sky.




double haiku:


I advocate but
I do not insist.  All hearts
will change when ready.

The flag that I plant
is but a marker, that says,
seeds were buried here.





Idyllic dream-scapes;
lush, green mountains still surround
the Hudson River

(Painting by John Frederick Kensett (American, 1816–1872) | Hudson River Scene )






Set wide the window
and let me drink in the day
for I’m feeling parched.

(from an Edith Wharton quote … more or less.)  








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