Here's this week's heap of haikus:

 

Labor Day double haiku:

Forty hour work weeks,
Safety and child labor laws ...
a minimum wage.

Unions, walk outs, strikes,
picket lines, arbitration ...
Which side are you on?

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A suicidal
watermelon's a sure sign
that Summer's over.

 

(Actual un-retouched photo of W. 108th St. sidewalk - taken by me in Sept. of 2013)

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(So, I said to myself, "It's almost September, maybe you could write a haiku with 'falling leaves' in it" ... this is what came out first:)
 

Since falling leaves me
vulnerable, it is not,
my friend, an option.

 

then I got serious and wrote this ...

 

Through an iron fence,
I watch Autumn leaves fall on
empty park benches.
 

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Soothing melodies
ran through his head, thanks in part
to his new iPod.

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There, on the sidewalk,
I spied a crumpled dollar
which looked a bit spent.

 

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Coming down the steps,
she held onto the handrail
with a fierce-some grip.

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On grey, rainy days,
she first sulked at the window,
then, wished for blue skies.

 

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They sway with the breeze,
which is why her little dog,
barks at sunflowers.

 

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It's not the way I
don't do things that matters, it's
the way I forget.

 

 

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double haiku:

 

It's three fifteen, and
wakened from a sad dream, I
try to clear my head.

Thoughts of you linger
and entwine with my day's chores.
You still haunt my heart.

 

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Torches throw shadows
on dreary castle walls ... The
mob wants Frankenstein!

 

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 double haiku:

When I was young, I
looked in strangers' faces to
find the familiar.

Now that I am old,
I look in strangers' faces
to find the unique.
 
 
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 In Life, two choices;
remain bewildered, or seek
clarification.
 
 

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The dark before dawn;
lonely hearts beat quicker in
anticipation.
 
 
 
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The one thing we do
that's as powerful as Love
is ... that we Forgive.
 

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

(from St. Thomas Aquinas ... more or less.)
 

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You can malinger
or even procrastinate ...
long as things gets done.

 

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Ah, consistency ...
It's not just over-rated,
it's the same old sh*t.
 
 
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tanka haiku:

She wore pink spandex
on her summer vacation ...
which caused a riot.
 
Cops came. She was arrested,
and did a stretch in prison.
 

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double haiku:

 
Oh, sweet saxophone,
play for me a most gentle
lullaby for Bird.
 
I passed Bird's house on
Avenue B today and
muttered, "Too soon gone."
 
(Happy would-have-been 94rd birthday to Charlie Parker.)
 
 
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A stone partition
never stops my neighbor’s dog
from barking at me.

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Idyllic dreamscapes;
lush, green mountains still surround
the Hudson River

 

(Painting by John Frederick Kensett (American, 1816–1872) | Hudson River Scene )

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Weary troubadour,
guitar slung across his back,
thumb out to hitch-hike.
 
 
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A moonlit whisper
two lovers in silhouette
nightly affection.
 

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They carved the bough to
make a prow, which even now
still floats somehow ... Wow.

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Moody clouds roiled through
the dark sky o'er the harbor ...
tethered sailboats bobbed.
 
 

 
(Photograph courtesy Kristina Rebelo)

 

 

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Homes embedded near
Maine's coastal villages, where
Man and Nature merge.

 

George Bellows (1882–1925) | The Red Vine, Matinicus Island, Maine | 1916

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Though Summer's waning
Autumn's not yet in the air.
Seasonal drifting.

 

 

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Set wide the window
and let me drink in the day
for I'm feeling parched.

 

(from an Edith Wharton quote ... more or less.)  

 

 

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I don't move stiffly ...
The rest of the world's too loose.
See? It's all context.
 
 

 
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It's been said that in
the wasted pursuits of youth
live our old-age dreams.
 
 
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Driving through small towns,
my windshield frames images
I cannot forget.
 

 

 

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Formerly treasured
knick-knacks in the garbage can?
The whim of 'the wife.'
 
 

 

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Any given day,
swirling leaves will seem confused
by the winds of change.

 

 

 

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