Three Haikus for the 2nd

punxsutawneyphilCozy Den of Iniquity

Wither thou goest
oh, hibernating rodent!
Preach thine prediction!

> > > > > > > > > >

Misdirected

Celebratory
nod today to the wiener;
happy ground-hog day.

> > > > > > > > > >

Boondoggle

Slovenly groundhogs
stay in bed, Tweet conjecture;
masses, pacified.

Mark Lucker

© 2019
http://lrd.to/sxh9jntSbd

Breezes

summer comes to a close
autumnal breezes waft
rustling memories of those
days when the close of summer
had more definitive endings

sun-drenched days of youthful
frolic, innocent play, done

swimming, playing with frogs in
holes dug on sandy beaches at
grandparent’s homes; ‘the lake’
summer Xanadus of childhood
one year, scenic backdrops for
advancing adolescence the next

the summer dented pails,
bent shovels lay unused in
boathouse corner; replaced with
initials inside a heart, drawn
artfully at dusk in beach sand with
carefully chosen stick, just to be
erased by evening’s gentle waves

Previous summers we traveled
in packs along endless lakeshore
some ‘ooing’ over discovered shells
all ‘eewing!’ over dead, bloated fish
skipping rocks to show machismo

But our duo walks became more
intimate strolls through the woods
privacy trumping pinecone collection,
coy separation from the collective
group not as subtle as we hoped

Each summer indelible as the
next; parts of many years blending
seamlessly together, a montage of
youthful Julys, childhood vacations

But the starkness of one summer
that is viewed not with the gauziness
of looking back fondly, but with clarity
of time, place, purpose…firsts.

One brilliant, Kodacolor snapshot
that never made it into any scrapbook
yet still remains the clearest picture

especially when summer ends
and the breezes of fall swirl

– Mark L. Lucker
© 2017
http://lrd.to/sxh9jntSbd

One metmorphisize fits all

Happily-ever-afterabstract4mll
mythology
prefaces every sequel
continuing
character-driven sagas
story arc only
tacking an index onto
volume one,
three, sixteen in a set

having read this scene
repeatedly
life movies
annotated script
writing, rewriting books
they were based on

playing
déjà vu-all-over-again
never more than
countless times
here-we-go-again
monotony of
changing times
changing directors

same cast of characters
different roles
replaced actors
haven’t-I-
seen-this-show-before?

Exit, stage right
enter stage left
either or,
vice versa
prefacing intermission
act one ends…

next!

time to regroup, recast
strike the set

endings are simply
ellipsis
masquerading
as comfort
to the ill-at-ease

– Mark L. Lucker
© 2016

Don Yoda

Quixotic exploits
in multiple life-genres
satisfied, I am

lacking though, in
satisfactory resolutionsquixote1
ambiguity suits me

beguiling, am I, in my
befuddlement of others
confounding doubters

mirror voyeurism
minus Dorian Gray ego,
Carly Simon panache

sing anyway, I cannot
dapper enough, I am
charm, it is, carries me

sophisticated enough
I know lost causes from
heroic potential

onward I trudge, in
lightness of step, spirit
ever vigilant

ready for action
sublime or fool’s errand
poised to charge on

never possessing
the courage to
believe in nothing

– Mark L. Lucker
© 2016
http://lrd.to/sxh9jntSbd

Recalculating

only another turning point
crossroads of cliché and same ole
what to do which way to turn
got here without GPS will
navigate as always, following stars

gut instinct not infallible co-pilot
riding shotgun, no desire to shoot
let alone take aim even with
windows down, wind in my hair
freedom promised by open roads
just a more panoramic void
ahead or behind checking the shifter
my only clue as to direction
I can’t move it to R going fifty-seven
so I must be moving onward

hard to tell: the road nothing
but a dot in the distance
thinking back to ninth grade art,
lesson on perception and perspective
the farther you are away fromsign2
something means the brush strokes
need to be lighter, not so bold
in coloring or thickness or was
that a different lesson entirely?

I always got yelled at for never
cleaning my brushes properly
leaving them dry, stiff but I made them
starkly, erratically pliable again, using
my own technique of pushing down,
flattening bristles out, painting again
much coarser lines, less nuance

I am no impressionist
haven’t touched a canvas
in years yet time is just blots of color
I need a picture or map to
follow or grab vague directional hints
as I decide to flip a mental coin
heads left, tails right using my blinker –
always instructed to warn those
following my intentions

laughing to myself ruefullyonewayoneway

any fool who tries to follow
will be as lost as I
not knowing what I know
how not to get where I am going
and how many ways there are
to go there or not go there

pedal-to-the-metal-time
squealing rubber, leaving tracks
just drive, baby. Just drive.

– Mark L. Lucker
© 2016
http://lrd.to/sxh9jntSbd

Three for the 2nd

punxsutawneyphilCozy Den of Iniquity

Wither thou goest
oh, hibernating rodent!
Preach thine prediction!

Misdirected

Celebratory
nod today to the wiener;
happy ground-hog day.

Boondoggle

Slovenly groundhogs
stay in bed, Tweet conjecture;
masses, pacified.

Mark Lucker

Winter solace

These north woods100_5066
are lovely, bright, and deep
glistening with snow
and promises to keep

Serenity resides
in the fresh wonder of
the new wintry familiarity,100_5072
renewal in fresh snowfall

I have not trod, of late,
these winter woods
two years have passed
since my last sojourn

my longest such time
away from this place,
its brisk tranquility

These north woods
are lovely, bright, and deep100_5081
glistening with memories
promises to keep

aroma of pine wafts
unseen smoke warms
someone’s home,
my very soul

walking down
this familiar road
I know where I
have been is not
where I am headed
though the route100_5071
remains the same

each tire track
fading onto the horizon
is a different thread,
unique memory,
both history and map

there is scant traffic,100_5065
little to break the stillness
save the occasional
remindful siren song;
trill of a blue jay,
staccato woodpecker,
synchronized squirrels
tap dancing on birch bark

there is comforting
warmth in this winter air
a soothing, balmy chill
in the soundtrack
of these woods

I walk on, serene

These north woods
are lovely, bright, and deep
glistening with snow
promises they and I must keep

Mark Lucker

Customer

sitting at a yardsale1
rickety card table
a cloudy, droll
Saturday morning

yard sale boredom
broken only by
protracted
used appliance deal
negotiations
with dubious
dollar store
Trump-wannabees

dumping a half mugmorningglories2
of stale coffee onto our
cyclone fence-climbing
Morning Glories

a change-purse toting
fortysomething
housewife-financier
chides my wastefulness,
asks the price
of the empty mug

feigning indignancy
I proclaim my intent
is simply to keepmorningglories1
my morning glories
awake through the sale

Not quite skeptically
she asks candidly if
that really works,
musing on her own
crop of backyard
morning glories, her
caffeinated prospects
of keeping them awakecookiejar
longer on a daily basis

“Go easy on the cream”

I advise solemnly
heading inside for
a refill and Tylenol
making a mental note
to charge her
full price for the
cracked cookie jar

Mark Lucker

Three for the 2nd

punxsutawneyphilCozy Den of Iniquity

Wither thou goest
oh, hibernating rodent!
Preach thine prediction!

Misdirected

Celebratory
nod today to the wiener;
happy ground-hog day.

Boondoggle

Slovenly groundhogs
stay in bed, Tweet conjecture;
masses, pacified.

Mark Lucker

Distance

The expanse is self-inflicted
a self-exiled expatriate;
I am here, not there

answered a calling, have since done my
best at least pretty well considering
restraints with which I had to work

sometimes I feel
my work here done
my time here over
needed elsewhere,
so I try to believe

but the work here is far from finished
though I would prefer it be for me

there are times I think someone else
needs to take their turn at this thing
as I have been here, done that

God has yet to agree.

Life off the playground is not about
taking turns everybody does not get into
the game (their choice) so I keep working
at all of it, trying hard, doing what I can,
attempting to practice the patience I
once employed abundantly in tougher
times and situations

Awaiting God’s answers
to questions I am not sure
I know how to even ask
is my symbol to bear

In seeking clarity to a calling maybe I
need to be more specific in expressing
my tepidly unique, evolving, reservations

Mark Lucker