Starting with the first haiku I wrote this year, and ending with the last one. Happy New Haiku Year!
I saw the Blackstar
dance in the sky through
your eyes,
changing everything.
* * *
If roses were brown
and sugar was peppery,
love would still prevail.
* * *
No shenanigans
today or tomfoolery,
if you please. Thank you.
* * *
Sunday birds singing
David Bowie’s greatest hits,
or so I presume.
* * *
Twitter poetry
is a cheeseburger with fries
and a diet Coke.
* * *
Grandma’s patchwork quilt
of old days long remembered
one stitch out of time.
* * *
That damn cat wants out
and in again on demand,
like I’m her hired hand.
* * *
Cats will not be trained.
They make cat whisperers cry
for even trying.
* * *
There’s a good reason
it's called Tornado Alley
and not Sprinkle Lane.
* * *
In out in out in
out again. What? Now back
in?
The fickle feline.
* * *
Sunday afternoon
Michelle, ma belle, on vinyl
kinda lazy day.
* * *
Long day ‘bout over
‘cept for the owl on sentry
asking hard questions.
* * *
You can smell the rain.
At least that’s what they
tell me.
My nose is stopped up.
* * *
Monday ain’t no worse
than a ne’e-do-well
Thursday.
It just seems like it.
* * *
A warm summer rain
taps on my roof like Sammy
doing Bojangles.
* * *
That old chesnut, love,
should be shared with
everyone,
not just our neighbors.
* * *
Dig the blue mohawk
coloring the River Walk
in old San Antone.
* * *
Monday walk about
the yard thinking to mow but
not now, tomorrow.
* * *
She stood there for us,
resolute in her beliefs
and kicked their asses.
* * *
It’s been a good day
and it’s not even lunchtime.
Hard work is the key.
* * *
Sunday is a day
of restaurant deciding;
Thai or fried chicken?
* * *
I don’t think my verse
can save me like I’m hopin’.
But no use mopin’.
* * *
Good morning Monday.
Since we’re going the same
way,
can I hitch a ride?
* * *
Sunday afternoon
guilt of way too much
reading,
not enough yard work.
* * *
I have a poem
tree blooming from my top
shelf.
It reveals the world.
* * *
He was a good cat
that didn’t give a rat’s ass
a chance to relax.
* * *
Can’t miss the sunrise,
the sweetest part of the
day.
Gus and his biscuits.
* * *
Outside, an old owl.
I have no answers for him,
but he keeps asking.
* * *
It don’t come easy:
the good stuff, rewards,
self-worth.
Only through hard work.
* * *
That shower was nice
but the ground sucked it up
dry
as a martini.
* * *
Sunday-morning news:
Walmart Sells Deep Fried
Twinkies.
Unhealthy? So what?
* * *
Tuesday, what a lark;
rise, shine, work, love,
show kindness,
forge a better world.
* * *
Headline News: A smile;
Next up in sports: Simone
Biles;
Weather: Sunny, mild.
* * *
The Queen of England
is made of cosmic star stuff
just like you and me.
* * *
The place seems empty
now that she’s no longer
here
to say good morning.
* * *
Coffee, porch, sunlit
trees, cool breeze and
mockingbird
impersonations.
* * *
Stick with haiku, son.
That simple 5-7-5
suits your intellect.
* * *
Last summer rainstorm,
oh how I love the way you
keep me from mowing.
* * *
Autumn always sneaks
in through Summer’s back
screen door
just to sit a spell.
* * *
Gracious how the week
progresses to Saturday
and gives me a lift.
* * *
A frog in the pond /croaked,
croaked, croaked, croaked, croaked all night long / just because, I guess.
* * *
San Antonio
Saturday street ArtPace-ing
haiku in the wild.
* * *
Back home on the cool
porch breezes and hot coffee
cup between my hands.
* * *
Lazy-day cookin’
red beans and cornbread
lookin’
like my kind of grub.
* * *
It’s anybody’s
guess who’s coming to
dinner,
but we always share.
* * *
Another debate?
Weren’t the first two more
than clear?
Never Trump! Never!
* * *
Watching meteors
shower over my homestead.
Streak, flash, and then
gone.
* * *
Cool Texas morning.
Hot Columbian coffee.
All is well, for now.
* * *
In case you missed it,
I used ICYMI
in a tweet today.
* * *
Wednesday haiku night.
Smoke-filled room, beer,
pen, paper.
Just me and the boys.
* * *
Circus still in town.
Scary clown won’t go away.
Damn the elephants.
* * *
An extra hour?
I’ll use mine out on the
porch,
just being quiet.
* * *
Just another day
to plot how we’ll change the
world
for the good of all.
* * *
Out of many, one
nation of all the people
we must overcome.
* * *
The old clock is tick
tocking, mocking all this
time
we think is owed us.
* * *
Saturday night life
around the kitchen table:
talk, laugh, friends, food,
love.
* * *
Today’s grand exploit?
I went out to get the mail.
It was only junk.
* * *
I don’t mind the rain
as long as it knows its
place:
Out. Not leaking in.
* * *
I'd rather be home,
but the trail don't go that way.
Someday, yes. Someday.
* * *
THE END
