A Feckless, Freckled Friday Afternoon at the Haikulodeon



Here’s this week’s heap of haikus:




To illuminate
is better than to merely shine.
Teach thinking, not thoughts.


( If St. Thomas Aquinas wrote a haiku … )






With memories, you
close your eyes, they last longer …
or so I’ve been told.



(My sister and a very young me on Cape Cod in the 1950’s …)







Ah, consistency …
It’s not just over-rated,
it’s the same old sh*t.






tanka haiku:
I tread warily
I wear readily, I swear
without reticence
or a hope for tomorrow
but that’s neither here nor there.








Cats may be pointy,
but a Priest is anointy,
both are a blessing.





tanka haiku:
If, without a feck
you are feckless, without hope,
you are hopeless … then

Why when you create a wreck
are you considered reckless?







tanka haiku  +1 :


We invented fierce.
We will accept your challenge!
Sharpen the weapons!!

    Ummm … it is kind of hot out.
and the dark clouds … it might rain.


I hate when leather
gets real wet, you know?  Can we
talk things out … Fiercely?





Our hearts are tender
Our determination, tough …
All tears shed are wet.









Better listen close.
Feel the beat. Get a groove on
Get it in your soul







Napping on sofas,
barking at the mailman,
the life of my dog.

(Today is Dog Day.  Photos from 1967 of my then 12 year old beagle, Christopher.   We got him as a puppy in 1955 and he lived until 1970.   He was more than a good dog.)








Another day of
endless infomercials where
football ought to be.







brochures invite me
linger longer by the sea
Cape Cod Cottages







tanka haiku:


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

Ask yourself these, for they are
the questions that matter most.









Yesterday’s roses,
in fullness of bloom … recall
our halcyon days.











The one thing we do
that’s as powerful as Love
is … that we Forgive.








Saturday Street Fair
as the Summer season ends
Broadway barbecue!






When humidity
rises, discomfort does too.
Go to the movies.








Behind my razor
in my medicine cab’net,
lies an old toothbrush.






Drunk and bewildered …
Well, here I am, 2 PM.
Heck, what day is it?







Weekends never end,
The beer’s free and sex sublime …
but just in my dreams.






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.







double haiku: 



Laurel and Hardy
were pushed into anarchy
by circumstances.

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






To whine is but to
rant with specificity.
Don’t complain, speak up!






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.









Water seeping in
the bottoms of my shoes
wading through puddles.







Uncle Jack sat, as
Drunk as a hoot owl, and tried
to count his fingers.









Working in the field
all day long wearing a hat
my hair gets matted.









The piazza is
full of aging young couples
flirting with hope.






In my camp tent, I
write letters by thunderstorm …
eat peanut butter.







Useless, useless rain.
Already watered the lawn.
Now it’s redundant.







Man with a remote.
Children playing with their toys.
Woman with a cat.



(Fernand Léger – 1921 – Woman with a cat.)








Amidst the cattails,
and languorous in repose,
a fairy lingers ..



( by Alphonse Mucha approx. 1920)








A triangle of
tranquility sails the sea
‘neath darkening skies.


Shafts of golden light,
signaled we’d weathered the storm,
so, we headed home.


(Photographs courtesy Kristina Rebelo)







To be committed
is to fly through each sunset
in search of the dawn.

(Photograph courtesy Kristina Rebelo)









Written in margins
of forgotten manuscripts,
lies many a truth.






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.’





There’s a twilight time
between dusk and eve’ning that
nurtures reflection.








The word, nonpareil
was coined for guys like him – Toots
was without equal.

(Even in his 90’s, Toots Thielemans could play the harmonica better than anyone else.  Toots passed away this week at age 94. RIP) 


An Encore:








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2 Responses to A Feckless, Freckled Friday Afternoon at the Haikulodeon

  1. trkingmomoe says:

    I love the Midnight Cowboy song. Thanks. If you get a chance come and check out my blog. It has really taken off since I did the upgrade. I am working on a new section of needle art. I am doing the photography right now of pieces I have done over the years. I hope you are doing well in this hear.

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