Here's this week's heap of haikus:

Shy birds on the line,
trying not to heed the call
of Mother Nature.

(Photograph courtesy of Kristina Rebelo)

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double haiku:
 
Filtering his thoughts,
he decided not to say
how he really felt.
 
For she would just get
mad and begin to cry, and
he couldn't stand that.
 
 
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What a fella can
do about a pelican ...
isn't much.  Just stare.

(Photograph courtesy of Kristina Rebelo)

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Disguising some swans
as prima ballerinas
takes stepping on toes.

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 Note to Reporters-ku:

Covering ISIL?
Don't try to be nice-l, your
head they might slice-l.

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He whispers her name,
as he lies in bed at night,
so his dreams find her.
 

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Material for Anti-materialism-ku:

Doesn't becoming
what you'd like to be, involve
getting and having?

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As the Summer wans
the golden voice of autumn
begins to whisper.

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He could not keep her
back in the day,  now 'what ifs'
pester him all night

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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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Overgrown grass hides,
a long neglected tombstone;
a child forgotten.
 

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In the morning sun,
the construction rig appeared
to be made of gold.

(Photograph courtesy of Kristina Rebelo)

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From a small garden
an enormous sunflower
reaches for the sky.

(Photograph courtesy of Kristina Rebelo)

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A new feature:

Easily Refutable Extrapolations ( E.R.E. ) in haiku form ...

Ship builders build ships,
shoemakers make shoes, washer
women make washers.

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If the sky is blue,
and the grass always greener,
more books should be red.

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If E is equal
to MC Squared,  What's equal
to MC Hammered?

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cheap joke-ku:

3 and 3 makes 6,
5 and 5, 10 ... 7 and
7 ... makes you drunk.

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His consistently
bad game of golf could be called
'Sliced to perfection.'

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He kept looking for
planetary alignments
to bring him good luck.

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Rivers of knowledge
seldom flood those reluctant
to wade through the creek.

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double haiku:

This physical realm,
lets spiritual beings,
experience pain.
 
Live and you’ll know pain;
All lessons in Life derive
from this simple fact.

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If you spy a fly,
that spies as it flies,
will that fly spy on your fly?

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Her slender fingers,
caressed his unshaven face,
He smiled. They made love.

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Paths to glory run
through fields of ignominy,
loathing and defeat.
 

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Cold and rainy nights,
attract the lonely, for they
hide the tears they shed.
 

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

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His pulse would quicken
each time she entered the room …
Heck, she brought the beer.

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I hear distant trains
and imagine going home ...
whistles on the wind.

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The fabric of Life;
From order to chaos, we
slowly unravel.
 
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After the rainstorm
shimmering shafts of sunshine,
broke through the dark clouds.

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