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A Heartless Friday Afternoon at the Haikulodeon

 

Here's this week's heap of haikus:
 
 
A downtown cafe ...
lovers cuddle in a booth,
and share some red wine.
 
 
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 I dropped the choc'lates
in the slush. The rose wilted.
Cupid's a b*st*rd.
 
 
 
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 Remembering love
is a journey through the soul
that restores the heart.
 
 
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The toddler's confused ...
the room's full of balloons and
dad's dressed like a clown.
 
 
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Twilight, cold and wet.
To ease the chill in my bones,
a savory bisque!
 
 
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A tall glass of juice,
is no substitute for a
big mug of coffee.
 
 
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A dark, grey morning
Serious people crowd me
I can't help but laugh.
 
 
 
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Locked in a body
that can no longer run, he
decides he will walk.
 
 
 
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The race over, and
having breasted the tape, she
sat and had a smoke.
 
 
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Minds that merely yearn,
Never taste the fruit of life,
they just chew the rind.
 
 
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Behind us, footsteps!
A shadow in the doorway!
Then ... A match is struck!
 
 
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 She sneezed her dress off,
Which caused quite a kerfuffle,
in the library.
 
 
(This is one I wrote a long time ago.  I just like it, so I'm re-posting it. Sue me.)
 
 
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By the garden wall,
a very blue hydrangea,
envies a spider.
 
 
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We laughed 'til we hurt,
for we'd stumbled upon, a
universal truth.
 
 
 
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A sincere heart is,
more likely to change the world,
than a reasoned thought.
 
 
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 When daffodils bloom,
near the edge of one's garden,
passers-by may pluck.
 
 
 
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As she walked away,
I brought my hands to my face
to hold in my dreams.
 
 
My friend David's respond-ku:

Helpless to assist
I watched as she left him there
alone with his tears.
 
 
My response:
 
He lived in torment,
misery inside each breath,
heaven denied him.
 
 
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 In Nantucket pubs,
zithers and dulcimers played,
to enraptured drunks.
 
 
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 A wind-swept plateau
where the sky looms large, as in
a John Ford western.
 
 
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All the king's horses,
And all the king's men, liked their
egg over easy.
 
 
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With billowing sails,
o'er churning, white-capped waters ...
grey skies at ebb tide.
 
 
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Sometimes I'm awake,
When I should be fast asleep,
dreaming I'm awake.
 
 
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 Are you a misfit
and conspire to rebel?
Get in line, my friend.
 
 
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Rain evaporates,
the Autumn leaves decompose,
Snow melts. Life happens.
 
 
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double haiku: An Irish Setter,
gallops through Riverside Park,
greeting each toddler.

His owner just laughs,
reassuring the nannys,
the dog is friendly.
 
 
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Dispositions change.
Mindsets frequently evolve.
Never close a door.
 
 
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When I'm all alone,
in my mind and in my heart,
you reverberate.
 
 
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tanka haiku: The quiet street near
the pont neuf, was used for a
fashion photo shoot.

The model seemed out of place,
the photog, out of this world.
 
 
This was inspired by seeing some old photos of Paris on HuffPost. When I was in Paris in 1989, my then girlfriend and I were out for a walk on a very early Sunday morning and came upon what seemed to be a spontaneous photo shoot. The model seemed so incredibly out of place, that we paused for a moment to watch, unseen, as the photographer scampered around snapping shots. Months later, we had a good laugh as one of the photos actually turned up in a fashion magazine that my girlfriend used to read regularly ...
 
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double haiku:

Rabbits cautiously
munch on thistles in wet grass
while the thunder sleeps.

---

A nine year old girl
under blankets, shakes in fear …
her thunder still sleeps.
 
 
 
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The point of flying
is to leave the ground. Let your
dreams pull you skyward.
 
My friend David's response:

Respond-ku:

Dreams pull us skyward?
Then why, pray tell, is it called
a wishing WELL? Hmmm?
 
 
My response:
 
Respond-ku2: 
 
A wishing well is
a hole for hopes, and seldom
are dreams well grounded.
 
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My friend David's haiku:

A prayer for guidance
beats a prayer for any "thing,"
hands down, no contest.

 

My response:

But prayers to be
guided to "anything" leaves
God lots of options.

 

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A dream paints the day.

This color I see spreading,

Do I hold the brush?

 

A mirror shows the reverse.
The heart is not a mirror.

 

 

moat, I love this one. Thank you for sharing it with me.

--

Souls forge truth and hope,

while minds dream up fantasies

and hearts search for love. 

Your reply reminds me of my favorite proverb:

"The plans of the mind belong to man,

but the answer of the tongue is from the Lord."

16:1

 

When he planned to plow,

a row arose to roundly 

rout rows of roses. 
 

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