A Ghastly, Ghostly, Very Scary Friday Afternoon at The Haikulodeon





Here’s this week’s headless heap of horrifying haikus:




Frankenstein’s Monster
pursued by an angry mob
“Alive, Alive, NO!”




Dancing skeletons
cemeteries at midnight
grave doings indeed.



If you’re wondering,
‘Are there rules for happenstance?’,
Roll the dice and see.



Because you are the
coolest little monster that
put the spook on me.


(Rest in Peace, TV Horror Host John Zacherle aka Zacherley, The Cool Ghoul, who passed away earlier today at the age of 98.)

Bonus Zacherley:  



(Ding-Dong!)  Trick or Treat!!
“Who are YOU supposed to be?!”
(Candy dropped in bags.)





 Life is but a dream,
and in dying we awake
un-departed souls



The divide between
life and death now weakened, the
dead walk among us.

An ode to Autumn:
midst the dead and dying, lies
hope for the future.

( Photograph courtesy of my neighbor and friend, Libby Kessman.)

Carving pumpkins? Yuck.
Giving ‘treats’ to neighbor kids?  …
Who needs Halloween?




Creaky door opens …
two bony hands emerge and
grab her by the throat!!



They spent All Souls Day,
still stuck in Purgatory.
Heaven help them … please.




Bags full of candy,
(‘Goodies’ gleaned on Halloween),
Seldom last a week.


Sibling rivalries
turn bitter when it comes to
Halloween candy.




At the O.K. Corral,
The Clantons found living in
Tombstone was over.

(This week in 1881:  The Gunfight at the OK Corral. )



I heard that he whored
a herd in a hoard, which ain’t
hard for hordes to hear.



tanka haiku:

Sometimes while sleeping
I visit alternate worlds
to try other lives.

I often wake with a start,
but seldom with a Finish.

(Alternate last line:  but seldom with a Finnish.)



Just because you’re dead,
doesn’t mean you can’t be chic.
This is Haunt Couture …

(Photo courtesy Kristina Rebelo)



She wore gingham and
polka dot dresses, which made
her seem cartoon-ish.


In the corner sat
a haunted piano, which
played only lost chords.




Happy is the heart
that varies not in knowing
nor has a need to.


A crescent kite pulls
a water skier o’er an
autumn lake at dusk.

(Photograph copyright Kristina Rebelo)


For All Souls Day:

May all souls be blessed,
past transgressions forgiven,
the sick comforted.


The gloom of the sky,
matched the grey river waters,
infinity flowed …




Loosen our lessons?
That would not be smart, we should
keep what we’re taught, taut.



Weary troubadour,
guitar slung across his back,
hitchhiking highways.



As the sun gets low,
skies turn ochre and birds search
for their ev’ning roost.

(Photo courtesy of Kristina Rebelo)


In an oblong tin,
he kept his oolong tea … A
thin tin type tea tin.


I love the keemun
slowly steeping in my cup
hao ya like my tea?


Defiant elm trees,
In the front of my backyard,
Still resist Autumn.



Pumpkins of all creeds
want tolerance when playing
Squash on Halloween.

(Photo courtesy of Kristina Rebelo)



In the pouring rain,
I noticed she stopped to watch
some children playing.


(Union Square in the Rain” (1890) by American impressionist Frederick Childe Hassam)




Sitting on the curb,
Half a cup of coffee waits,
Its drinker, long gone.




Late afternoons, the
sun shines through the foliage;
leaves become stained glass.

(Photo courtesy of Kristina Rebelo)


Sweeping through the sky
lost souls in search of heaven
as daylight retreats.

(Photos courtesy Kristina Rebelo)






“Buy thin spaghetti”,
my mom used to say. Why’s that?
“Because you get more.”

(Unknown location, 1945. Photo by Ida Wyman.)



Sleep, sweet little baby,
Mommy watches over you,
Through the darkest night.

Sleep, sweet little baby,
though goblins watch over you,
Through this darkest night.


I’m in the doghouse,
What I did, I do not know,
But please, forgive me.



When you get angry,
bulging veins on your forehead,
grab my attention.





Rivulets of rain,
run down the parked car’s windshield,
dead wipers just watch.




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