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    Another Getaway Friday Afternoon at the Haikulodeon




    Here's this week's heap of haikus: 








    He sits quietly
    with a small flag in his hands
    haunted by foxholes.


    (Photo courtesy Kristina Rebelo)







    With hands o’er hearts and
    eyes on the flag, a bugle
    plays a mournful “Taps”.


    (Photo courtesy Kristina Rebelo)









    His band of brothers,
    on his mind and in his heart,
    remembered and mourned.



    (Photo courtesy Kristina Rebelo)









    A most peaceful sound
    soft rain falling from above
    on a quiet night.










    Littered with teardrops,
    on a Sunday morning in
    my garden of hope.



    (Photo courtesy of Kristina Rebelo)









    Oh sweet Art Nouveau!
    Rounder than rococo and
    more square than deco.












    It's sad when modern
    becomes passe; it means the
    future is finished.







    Would Mary Cassatt
    drive a Passat? I get the
    impression she'd not.

    (Happy Would-have-been Birthday on May 22, to Mary Cassatt)










    There was a woman
    I loved not wisely nor well
    such a fool was I




    I am no sweetheart,
    nor husband or dad, I am
    a desert cactus.








    Friday night routine;
    Bacon cheeseburger deluxe ...
    Manchester Diner.







    Words can get scrambled
    when one is won, two is too
    shortly, you'll belong.









    God's biggest regrets;
    He made dinosaurs too big
    and men's hearts too small.





    Dick's dissipation;
    dismal and disappointing,
    distant and dismissed.






    For these are the rhymes
    That try men's soup ... and the rhymes
    they are a changeling.







    double haiku:


    Chrons disease is an
    allergy to wristwatches.
    on the other hand ...

    Crohns disease is an
    inflammatory illness
    with diff'rent movements.








    Fog floats on the fields,
    dew forms on the barb wire fence,

    somewhere, a dog barks.






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




     Like a garden rose,
    the nurse showed up in the Spring ...
    and pricked his finger.




    Try imagining
    that strangers you encounter,
    are friends from past lives.







     tanka haiku:

    Why defy the wind?
    Or swim against the tide? Why
    make things so damned hard?

    There's but one answer to this ...
    It's the path I chose to walk.







    Wanderlust re-born ...
    when the circus passed through town,
    Now he clowns around.







    A tall vase full of
    happy yellow daffodils
    assuages anger.








    Five thirty AM,
    a Summer Sunday morning,
    the smell of bacon.




    Kids were not allowed
    in grandfather's library,
    but cats wandered in.











    Near the temple of
    Dionysus, peonies
    plead for one more chance.






    Spring has just arrived,
    Earth's re-born, and we rejoice.
    Turn, turn, turned once more.







    Live a life of love,
    look to better angels, carve
    your own walking stick.







    When poets can twirl
    literary lariats,
    they're soon laureates.





    tanka haiku:


    Sunny, Summer days
    running through fields, resting 'neath
    the shade of an oak.

      Then we ride bikes to the park
      and play baseball 'til dinner.






    Waiting for my ride,
    A little boy runs past me,
    chased by his nanny.





    Wisps of her fragrance,
    Becloud my concentration,
    my thoughts are of her.







    In the wilderness,
    A frivolous distraction,
    Might also eat you.





    Endicott's pear tree,
    planted here so long ago,
    is still bearing fruit.

    (Planted in 1630 near Danvers, MA)






    Enjoy the Memorial Day weekend!














    I was worried about you.

    I was even thinking about a blog about you.

    But there you are!

    Dick's dissipation

    Dismal and Disappointing

    Distant and dismissed


    Oh I am glad you are back

    Even though my fingers do not add up.

    Spring is reborn here

    There is this one branch I see

    I have been watching it though

    Closer to my eye

    That is, it does grow

    And closer to my window

    It just seems to grow

    It seems to see me

    Not threatening me so much

    As it calls to me


    I speak of some years

    As the branch approaches me

    But it is still there


    Hang in there Mr. Smith

    Sometimes you are all I got!


    Thanks DD!  In my last post before this one, I said I was taking two weeks off to go to my grand-niece's wedding, assuming I would need an extra week off to recover.  It was a lovely time, the ride from NYC to Harrisburg, PA (and vice versa) was done in two segments which I tolerated well.  Although it was a bit exhausting, overall,  the time off was refreshing  and energizing and I realized that I didn't need the extra week off, so here I am.    Now I'm ready for a nice 3 day weekend.

    P.S.  Here are a few more haikus I forgot to include in today's heap:



    Blistering come-backs
    bounced through his head, but all he
    could say was, "Oh YEAH?!"


    For some, compassion
    Seems to sit upon a leaf,
    Thus, might float away



    As storm clouds gather,
    a pair of kayakkers,
    fight the swift current.


    Playing piano,
    requires dexterity.
    I play clarinet.



    Stiff and discarded,
    old paintbrushes, wait, hope and,
    pray for turpentine.


    This weekend my dad's

    one of the fallen. Flying

    home's not quite the same.


    All those years waiting

    patiently till patient ran

    out. Tired of sitting.


    Memorial Day - 

    still see him up in the sky,

    no fighter this time.


    Awful how when a

    parent goes we're 5 years old

    again. Dignity?


    Spent 3 days trying

    to find a moment's thought, till

    it crept up on me.


    Thanks, dad. Safe journey.

    A lovely haiku set, Peracles, but more importantly, my condolences on your dad's passing.   


    A parent's passing
    is more than a sad event,
    it's the end of youth.

    For we've lost the path
    our parents made for us and
    now must walk our own.

    Awfully late for that, but better late than never :-)  thanks

    The premise I like
    takes us outside of the flow,
    showing up in time.

    Nice one, moat!!

    Marty and Doc Brown
    always seem to have ways of
    showing up in time.

    The premise I like

    is the one often confused

    with the other one.


    Ha! Good one, Missy!


    One thing will calm us,
    a premise with promise ... (or
    so said Saint Thomas.)

    Love can be stagnant

    ‘til in the hurricane’s eye

    it kisses goodbye.

    Ah, nice one, Missy!!

    Love's a stagnant pool,
    fetid depths remain murky,
    drinking, hazardous.

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