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    A New Beginning on a Friday Afternoon at the Haikulodeon




    Here's this week's heap of haikus:




    On the eleventh
    Month, day and hour - at long last,
    the guns fell silent.



    (Pictured: The Spondyville mascot, Stiffy the Snowspondy, visiting the Anglo-Belgian War Memorial in Brussels a few years back, to pay tribute to all the fallen heroes of WWI.)










    haiku: Jamaican cabbie
    tells me his philosophy;
    "no matter, birds sing."





    tanka haiku:


    Pain is a warning,
    like the light on your dashboard,
    ignore at your risk.

    We are merely humans, but
    strive to be well-oiled machines.








    So long, Marianne,
    It's time that we began to
    cry laugh about it all.

    Leonard Cohen RIP
















    Her touch was so soft,
    her gaze so encouraging,
    his heart filled with joy.










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










    In a nursing home,
    The youth of sweet yesterdays,
    Wait for tomorrow.










    It's instrumental;
    We elected a bassoon.
    Oboe, that's treble.










    haiku quintet:


    My heart will still ache,
    my head will carry sadness,
    my happiness end.

    the world no longer
    will inspire the birds to sing
    or dogs to love you.

    old chairs will fail you
    they will throw you to the floor
    life will spit on you

    The fundamental
    notion of the universe
    has been disrupted.

    and all we can do
    is to absorb the shock and just
    keep moving forward.








    tanka haiku:


    Why is losing good?
    It's an opportunity
    to re-think your plans.

        No defeat lasts forever,
        no victory ends your quest.








    The clouds in the sky
    are drifting by ... lazily
    I sit and watch them.








    The Past rejoices
    Our clocks have all fallen back
    The future delayed








    Don't feel discouraged
    when your back's against the wall ...
    you've found some support.











    Scarlett's quiet quip,
    'Got kudzu up the wazoo',
    made Rhett Butler laugh.








    He's considered dull,
    just muddling through Life, yet
    his heart slays dragons.







    Autumn in New York,
    leaves crackle underfoot as
    I stroll through the park.







    Tower of London;
    where you can find graffiti
    that pre-dates 'Banksy.'







    At the timberline,
    the earth fell away and the
    sky overwhelmed me.

    a desperate tree
    tried to hold back the clouds, but
    a stormy night prevailed.



    (Photo courtesy of Kristina Rebelo)









    You know tain't right to
    treat me like you do ... It's a
    lowdown cryin' shame.










    The dark before dawn;
    lonely hearts beat quicker in












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











    Ah, consistency ...
    It's not just over-rated,
    it's the same old stuff.










    In Autumn's dotage,
    death's a gentler tiger,
    greeted with a grin.










    He strolled along the
    back roads, with his mandolin,
    singin' for supper.













    She smiled at me and
    for one brief moment we both
    felt the world was safe.












    We shall persevere
    and rise again tomorrow
    to tend our gardens.










    Repudiate all
    reasons that keep us fighting.
    Let us heal our hearts.









    tanka haiku:



    There's no growth from pain.
    Growth comes from a willingness
    to endure the pain ...

     ... as the cost of each lesson.
    Otherwise, it's just suffering.








    double haiku:


    While they were still young,
    the world seemed full of promise,
    then ... we went to war.

    Soon, the fighting would
    be shaking optimism
    out of people's hearts.

    (My parents in early 1942, a few months after they married.)








    A new moon will shine
    on an old village square, and
    make a piazza.






     Do not weep all night
    then wonder why each day seems
    so full of teardrops.








    An incoming tide,
    coral clouds at sunrise ... all
    our Hopes are reborn.







     A haiku cycle in 4 parts:




    The promise of youth
    may be mere speculation,
    but it's all I've got.

    The promise of youth
    it had to be postponed, but
    it will be fulfilled.



    The promise of youth;
    a lie, a sham, a fraud ... but
    it kept me going.




    Without promise or
    any fanfare, a writer
    completes his novel.







    All things have endings
    and a natural timeline
    regret not the end

    for new beginnings
    will always follow along
    to start things over.

     Whatever ends will
    begin again; our journey
    is but a circle.






    Put your burden down
    let your worries melt away
    it is sleepy time.






    Here's one I forgot to add to this week's heap ...


    A half a' sandwich
    in a plain brown paper bag
    can give a child hope.



    Smith, thanks.

    Baby, it's cold outside.

    Thanks, Oxy! 


    Baby, it's too cold
    to go out without a coat ...
    better bundle up 



    I hereby render unto Mr. Smith, the Dayly line of the Day for this here dagblog site for this gem:




    I speak audibly

    To myself on a park bench

    Just feeding the ducks

    November is warm

    Climate change just aint that bad

    In the great white north

    More than the weather

    I experience some change

    Talking to myself

        And no one around.


    But the ducks respond

    And they respond at the pond!

    My word is my bond

    Do I make a sound

    With no one present buck ducks?

    Non Compos Mentis?


    No news is good news

    Regurgitation is waste

    I live in a dream

    Life is but a dream

    So say the many poets

    Can I count to five?


    My son is distraught

    My daughter is very sad


    Thanks, DD!!  For you, a haiku septet:

    Whenever I think
    of my friend, Dick and his ducks,
    my mind imagines,

    a small pond, a bench,
    and a quiet afternoon
    framed by Autumn leaves.

    Dick tosses bread crumbs,
    happy ducks quack their thanks and
    offer sage advice.

    Dick listens, and nods
    and whispers some further thoughts
    on combing feathers.

    The breeze picks up and
    Dick soon runs out of bread crumbs,
    the old ducks linger

    The younger wander
    in search of new adventures
    the old know their friend,

    and like spending time,
    together, simply being ...
    Dick and ducks ... divine.







    Kind of a slow day

    Cheer up, let's go grab something,

    turkey buzzards, them

    Good one, Oxy!!


    Kind of a slow day
    a day to eat heartily,
    it's too slow to fast.

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