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.

 

 

^^^^