Here's this week's heap of haikus:

 

The sign on the beach
said "Clothing Optional" ... So,
he took off his scarf.

 

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tanka haiku:  

You can March forth on
March fourth and even ask, "May
One?" on May 1, but ...
     You can't ever drink a Fifth
     of July on a Sunday.

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Delicate essence
is what Greeks do with shampoo;
Lather, rinse, repeat.
 

 

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News reports where we're
watching the street crowd react;
Journalism? No!

 

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Mental disorders
are all in your head, hair-sprays
however, on it.

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 Nut-so or Schizo,
it strains at the wits so,
I use Ju-jitso.

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Reminder-ku #1:

As Alex Trebek
would caution you, replies should
be in haiku form.

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moving out, he put
his desk on craigslist with that
second-hand futon.

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double haiku:

Riding the porch swing,
we kiss while listening for
your father's footsteps.

The moonlight creates
shadows which tease my desire
your allure is pure.

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Fitful nights will pass.
Sleep will overtake sadness.
A new day will dawn.

 

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

 

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The filthy windshield
gave a sepia toned view
of my ride to work.

 

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When you fall in love,
it will be voracious; Hearts
never have enough.

 

 
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In the afterglow
we must reflect and embrace
the change the flames wrought.

 

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Reminder-ku #2:

 

The much less optioned
'mitigated disaster'
will still ruin things.

 

 

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My old neighborhood
has now become gentrified.  
I left just in time.

 

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Swirling rain pelts me.
I dash for shelter under
a leafy oak tree.

 

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What’s clearly defined,
leave alone. What’s blurry at
the edges, sharpen.

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tanka haiku:
 
  Standing on the beach,
  looking at the ocean, I
  ponder Life's journey.

   What makes me laugh, is to think
   that seagulls do the same thing.

 

(Photo courtesy of Kristina Rebelo)

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A starry night, wind
rustles the dandelions.  
Cautious lovers kiss.

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When I feel alone,
I conjour thoughts of you to
keep me company.

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The more I focus
on subtle details, the more
I'm drawn into Life.

 

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He was so immersed
in his work, that he forgot
to make the coffee.

 

 
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My mind is slipping,
my thoughts can't seem to grasp hold
of life without you.

 

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Blue beach umbrellas
flutter in the breeze, casting
shadows on the sand.

 

(Photo courtesy of Kristina Rebelo)

 

 

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When you do things right,
you don't have to do what's left.
What's left is alright.

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As ev'ning draws nigh,
chickens roost and dogs bark at
approaching shadows.

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I'm down on my knees.
Tell me what I want to hear ...
How do I get up?

 

 

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

 

 

 

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As we left the church,
Birds began to sing. Angels
whispered, 'Life goes on.'

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The young schoolgirl's crush
waited 'neath the boardwalk with
a cold grape soda.

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Thoughts run through my head,
in-congruent images
chasing after them.

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His tortured soul found
small measures of contentment
just beyond its reach.

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Ev'ry Flea Market
has some folks who'll wrestle you
for Fiestaware.

 

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Marble-sized hailstones
bounced off air conditioners
in the East Village.

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His heart on his sleeve,
led many folks to assume
he always wore shirts.

 

 

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A loon on a lake?
All well and good, but I still
like my lunacy.

 

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Stashed behind the soups
in her kitchen pantry was
some choc’late cake mix.

 

 

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'midst the morning mist,
the field beyond seems painted
with watercolors.

 

 

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tanka haiku:

My cleaning lady,
back from vacation, claiming
to have seen the Pope.

She adored, in Ecuador ...
t'was the Holy See she saw.

 

 

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I remain in awe
of the lives that have touched mine.
Each brought a lesson.

 

 

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

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Deep in the forest,
patches of stippled sunlight,
warm a leaf-strewn trail.
 
 

 
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We search for meaning,
but as we wander through Life,
fog envelops us.
 
 

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

 

 
 
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Will you ever wake?
Or will you dream forever?
Will you ever know?

 

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My Siamese cat
sits at the window, and stares
at distant mountains.

 

 

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Mary had a lamb,
And little though it was ... it
started stalking her.

 

 

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Irony-ku:

 

Few will ever know
private failures we endure,
unless ... we succeed.
 

 

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"Stained glass is easy ...
Comedy is hard" - Louis
Tiffany Lampshade.

 

 

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When you have a lot
that's on your mind, let your day
begin quietly.

 

 

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I have been searching
for this girl most of my life.
I found her at six.

 

(Summer of 1957.  I was 6 and a half.  She was ... I don't know.  I don't even remember her name  But I was smitten by her smile ... and amazed that a pretty  girl LIKED me!)

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And finally ...

 

Sometimes you have to
take a deep breath and just blow
the roof off the dump.

 

(This is the fabulous Broadway Star, Sutton Foster, showing how it's done.)

And if you liked that, here is a Sutton Foster encore from "The Drowsy Chaperone" ...