http://www.contracostatimes.com/haiku
Labor Day weekend playtime,
we grouch back to work.
all that was cool this morning
is suddenly hot.
Runners up in the haiku contest:
Prevent hardening
of the categories by
learning from the young.
alive -- receipts for getting
and spending, archived.
rainbow's end was finding a
fun Irish husband.
“Ground Hog Day,” 2/2/09
Prognosticating
with shadows, Plato in his
cave or Groundhog Phil?
Ground Hog Day could be
a cookout for hamburger
or pig but isn't.
“Castaways,” 1/29/09
We're all castaways
on island earth, rotating
in oceans of space.
“New Year’s resolutions," 1/5/09
Resolving to start
dieting, I have just one
last very small snack.
“James Bond,” 11/5/08
Oh, to be a Bond
girl, but even young, I was
no Halle Berry.
"Bond, James Bond," he says.
Then "Shaken, not stirred," while I,
eyes on screen, am both.
“Joe,” 10/27/08
Joe and Marilyn
left our realm, escaping all
rude paparazzi.
Knock three times, whisper
low. Hernando must make sure
that you're in with Joe.
Little Women's Jo
is no Joe, so must march out
of this male haiku.
“Trick-or-treat,” 10/20/08
Out late, asking for
candy, you'd better be young
or you are mooching.
“TV characters,” 10/6/08
Flawed Don Draper, Mad
Men’s strong-jawed hunk, makes me yearn
for my shorthand pad.
Sixties typewriters
click like sharp heels on Mad Men
backs. Ask Don Draper.
“Wailing on Wall Street,” 9/29/08
Financial angst like
ours needs more than seventeen
stalwart syllables.
“Rush-hour Traffic,” 9/23/08
Change fingers, mister,
since I’m changing lanes fast to
get out of your way.