MrSmith1's picture

    A Frequently Freezing Friday Afternoon at the Haikulodeon

     

     

     



    Here's this week's heap of haikus:

     

     

     

     

     

    A knock at the door.
    her face rings a bell  ... My past
    has caught up with me.

     

     

     

     

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    A slice of apple,
    a wedge of sharp cheddar cheese,
    And a well-worn book.

     

     


     
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    Hand-made paper clips ...
     reported by  ... ly Ballou.
    All hail, Bob and Ray!

     

    (The great Bob Elliot passed away this week, age 92.  RIP)

     

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    Bonus Bob and Ray!!
     

     

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    Despite commitments
    and their vows of devotion,
    Love would foil their plans.

     

     

     

     


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    Sometimes I'm awake,
    When I should be fast asleep,
    dreaming I'm awake.

     

     

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    Cloudy afternoon.
    On the path near the foot bridge ...
    deliberate steps.

     


    Leon Kroll, Scene in Central Park, 1922

     

     

     

     


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    Slouched in a corner,
    of a dingy juke joint, a
    young man learns the blues.

     


     

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    The old cobblestones
    on the bridge to Morey are
    a bit uneven.


    Le Pont de Morey,- Alfred Sisley

     

     

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    If the world's a stage,
    And people are the players,
    Who's in charge of props?

     

     

     

     

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    Scouts on camping trips,
    Lovers caught in passion's throes,
    Neither needs matches.
     

     

     

     


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    Cold wind, freezing sleet,
    and an angry dog make me
    wish I had stayed home.

     

     

     

     

     

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    He sat in his room
    and played a lonely waltz on
    his concertina.

     

     

     

     

     

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    The harsh winter will
    argue against the thaw, but
    soon, the warmth returns.

     

     


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    I am all aswirl,
    y'see, I've met a girl and
    I'm dizzy from love.

     

     


     
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    Quietly they slept,
    in a field of bluebonnets;
    his head in her lap.

     

     

     

     

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    In the swirls of clouds,
    where we imagine heaven,
    hopes and dreams re-form.

     

     

     

     

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    Wish the snow would go
    from being to nothingness ...?
    Sartre should shovel.

     

     


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    Another snowstorm,
    another chance to enjoy
    quiet time at home.

     

     

     

     


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    Young eyes hold magic;
    look into them, and see the
    world as it could be.

     

     


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    tanka haiku:

     

    On a corner lot,
    a two-story brick building
    is all that remains.

    Glories of another time,
    too soon reduced to rubble.

     

     

     


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    triple haiku:

     

    The cinnamon toast
    was brown and speckled and the
    buttered oatmeal hot.

     

    At his cousin's house,
    breakfast was a ritual
    he found confusing.

     


    "Where's the Cheerios?"
    he asked, "And why honeydews,
    this isn't Sunday!"

     

     


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    tanka haiku:

     

    We fight our whole lives
    to thrive in the world of our
    parents, only to

    discover that we're living
    in the world of our children.

     

     


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

     

     

     


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    In the darkest night,
    there remains an ember which
    will re-light the dawn.


     

     

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    Waiting patiently ...
    for bad news that never comes
    is called, taking naps.

     

     

     

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    (Photo courtesy Kristina Rebelo)

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    Her bleeding heart mixed
    with his bloody ignorance;
    Their coronary.

     

     

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    Snow frosted treetops
    on arctic traffic islands
    clear streets and sidewalks.

     

     

     

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    "Dude ... aren't we getting
    way too old for this sh*t?"  "You're
    the endless bummer."

     

    (Photo courtesy Kristina Rebelo)

     


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    A gentle snowfall,
    a horse and buggy waiting
    for a passenger.

     

     

    Alfred Stieglitz 1901

     

     

     


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    Spiritual lust
    will infect fevered sinners
    amidst communion.

     

     

     

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    Do you spend your days
    creating calamities?
    or mopping them up?

     

     

     

     
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    Snow defiantly
    sits on a shaky tree limb.
    Winds plot against it.

     

     

     


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    Sometimes we forget;
    before we ski down mountains,
    we first must climb them.

     

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    Poppa sold pretzels
    People waiting for trollies
    could not get enough.

     

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    Strolling through the Park
    ladies with their parasols
    Summer afternoon.

     
    Luther Van Gorder - In the Park  ( before 1899 )

     

     

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     tanka haiku:

    Where there is no path,
    I will make one. Where no-one
    knows, there I will teach.

      One step begins each journey.
      Each journey shall teach new steps.

     

     

    ^^^^


     

     

     

     

     

    Comments

    (MY GOODNESS, I shall come back!)

    The most beautiful

    Face I have ever witnessed

    It was in a jar?


    Some cheese adds so much

    So I put it on the Ritz

    And some apple too

    Add some cream cheese and

    Thank Heavens for little swirls?

    Where is this goin?


     


    Those old photographs are such great treasures. It is really a wonderful look at the past. 


    Yes, I love old photos too.  They are indeed a window into the past.  ;)


    It is not pretty,
    the smart march passing through me,
    taking what is there.


    Good one, moat!!

    Not at all pretty
    that smart march passing through, but ...
    it has a nice beat.


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