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Philosophic Stuff:

A haiku may suggest a philosophy, but is usually not a philosophical pronouncement. A senryu may be an attempt (usually with wit) to convey, directly, a philosophical conclusion. Hence the following:

The big day was tomorrow
for so long, I can't grasp
it's yesterday.

Playing bridge--are my
pieces of paper better
than yours? Life is simple.

We sit in our house,
safe? But our house is out on
the street after dark.

Let me ask you
a purely academic question:

I keep getting fatter.
If beauty is skin-deep,
mine becomes profound.

Is life going on as usual,
or has someone forged
my wristwatch?

The world could be worse--
but keep that a secret
from the politicians.

Sometimes I wonder,
do I really want to have
opinions about things?

I could never afford
to buy a sunset like that;
I'm just looking.

Perhaps a haiku, despite the obvious wit.

Small neat houses of the poor,
walls plush with pictures, felt,
but not deeply.

Referring to the "felt" texture of black velvet paintings of Jesus or Elvis, once common in, for example, tiny blue collar living rooms of Latinos, hung on walls behind sofas encased in clear plastic.

What tiny explosions
drive that bicycle's pistons
up and down?

The "pistons" are some kid's legs.

Christmas without snow,
even without Christians,
but with television.

Library. Shh - you can
just hear thousands of books
mumbling to themselves.

The food tastes better
in Chinese restaurants where the
menus are spelled wrong.

Gray sky: Miles up,
yet confining. I must be
bigger than I think.

How can I feel confined by a lowering gray sky unless I am large enough to butt up against it?

Blue sky -- and still
I feel confined. Nothing
confines me.

"Nothing" used with intended ambiguity. Either there is no thing that can confine me, or (because only I can confine me and when I do so, all the world's a prison) even "nothing" can confine me. The sky is an approximation of "nothing".

Unmarked cop car
pulls someone over,
a kind of terrorism.

Then why do we fear
the skies?

Separating us,
1000 miles -- woods fields roads --
connect us.

"Fried eggs" -- easy
to say, as if I know
what fried eggs are.

When no one wants me,
so sad!...for THEM because
I'm here.

Clouds and breezes still
remember you, but no longer
belong to you.

A stage in the recovery of one who mourns the loss of a lover.

The audience is small,
but the space is big, and the
audience fills it.

Something well-known to any poet who has found a small, but responsive audience able to fill a large space. Admiration does that.

One day, looking through eyes,
I lean over too far
and fall out.

Criticizing myself –
a waste not to, having walked
miles in my shoes.

God does pity us,
but it makes him mad
to have to pity us.

Illness. Being a body
lets me experience things
beyond imagining.

The idea (I think - written long ago) is that I experience these things BECAUSE they are beyond my imagining. That is, what I refuse to confront (and am therefore unable to imagine), I become.

My body, sick,
has more parts
than I can fill.

My healthy body seems a unitary thing, all systems working together, little need to pay attention to the parts. My body, when sick, suddenly has all these fragile parts I'd never noticed, individual bones of the spine that misbehave, facial muscles drawn tight, etc. More to the point, more than I can "fill" - that is, part of illness is my going out of communication with parts of the body, retreating from them.

The main thing I feel
when I become someone new
is recognition.

Supposing that life is a journey,
is it one way
or round trip?

I'll work on getting
out of this hole as soon as
I land.

"Boys will be boys!" Yes,
much as we hope that one day
boys will be men.

Could there be any
molecules of air on earth
I haven't breathed yet?

The flower you see
is never the flower I
don't see.

Perhaps a haiku. The implication may be "the flower I imagine."

One moon slips beneath
the clouds, out pops another.
We're not fooled.

I always tried to be
the strong, silent type,
but no one noticed.

So long as there are
homeless among us, we are
among the homeless.

Way over there - blue hills;
way over here, a mere dot -
my body.

I like the bit of mental gymnastics required to grasp "way over here". I think we do this when we are engaged by distances. We find ourselves "way over there" looking (however dimly) back at our bodies, "way over here".

What you eat has been killed.
Give more sentience
than you take.

From humble beginnings
God grew up
to be us.

My friends are magic:
I hear lies about them, and
they turn into toads.

The things you think are
wrong with you are only wrong
where they aren't you.

Question mark,
why must your lovely twisting
come to a point?

If you can prove
anything with statistics,
why not prove something nice?

A wasted night,
but I got it cheap
to begin with.

Ever since we invented
time, it's been just one thing
after another.

I wanted to stop
being a victim, but
they wouldn't let me.

Lord, if you can't
save me from myself, could you
at least set up talks?

A human child is
the only animal that stares
at its own knees.

Why must I say
something funny? Why can't you
just decide to laugh?

Day after day passes
through me; Time has developed

Why does everyone
always have to be right?
Can't we take turns?

When everything's fine,
you just want to die, maybe
everything's not fine.

"We've lived before..."
"Does that mean I have to have
a used baby?"

Most people are
for sale. After all, you can't
give yourself away.

I used to be
someone else, but he got
too old for the job.

I'm alluding to bits of obsolete identity we shed as we mature - or to past lifetimes.

God is not dead,
but is he IBM-

See now play!

Living is simple:
Just read the instructions that
you came with.