MrSmith1's picture

    Another Laborious Friday Afternoon at the Haikulodeon



    Here's this week's heap of haikus:


    When you're looking for
    familiarity's font,
    Google sans serif.




    You know it's true if
    you read it on a matchbook.
    ( Close before striking. )





    Labor Day double haiku:


    Forty hour work weeks,
    Safety and child labor laws …
    a minimum wage.

    Unions, walk outs, strikes,
    picket lines, arbitration …
    Which side are you on?





    There, on the sidewalk,
    I spied a crumpled dollar
    which looked a bit spent.






    They sway with the breeze,
    which is why her little dog,
    barks at sunflowers.





    It’s not the way I
    don’t do things that matters, it’s
    the way I forget.





    A suicidal
    watermelon’s a sure sign
    that Summer’s over.

    (Actual un-retouched photo of W. 108th St. sidewalk – taken by me in Sept. of 2013)





    double haiku:

    We struggle, at times,
    remembering our loved ones,
    but vow, they won't fade.

    So, the old stories, though
    familiar, are re-told, to
    refresh our spirits.




    double haiku:

    The tail fins really ...
    I said, the tail fins really ...
    Oh Hell, never mind.

    Let me ask you this ...
    Did you notice there is a
    car in this picture?









    Clinging too much to
    the Past, guarantees you'll be
    bull-dozed by the Future.







    How ironic to
    mourn a man's death with a song
    called "Being Alive."

    (Dean Jones died this week. Most remember him from TV or Disney movies like The Love Bug.  I remember him for what I think was his best work: Bobby in the Original Broadway cast of the Sondheim musical, Company in 1970.   He didn't stay with the show long, my parents took me to see Company two weeks after it opened and the lead role of Bobby was already being done full-time by his understudy Larry Kert, (who, btw, had originated the role of Tony in West Side Story.)  Rumors said the role of Bobby was an uncomfortable one for Jones, that it hit too close to home.  He did, fortunately make the cast album of the show and in the documentary of the making of that cast album you can see how he struggled to put across the big number, "Being Alive".  I think he succeeded.  I understand that some 20 years later, he briefly re-visited the role.  I hope that means that he had made peace with it.  What ever was going on for him inside his head, it made for an indelible theatrical experience, I believe more lasting than any of the Disney movies he made.)






    Friends who come to play
    in my house, don't break my toys
    or torture my cat.









    Up before sunrise,
    he kept the lights off, so as
    not to wake her up.








    Nineteen Fifty-five ...
    A sound of the future; The
    Monitor Beacon.

    (Now it sounds like your old computer trying to sign on to AOL in 1995. We've come a long way.)







    He's considered dull;
    just muddling through Life ... yet
    his heart slays dragons.







    tanka haiku:

    Sunny, Summer days
    running through fields, resting 'neath
    the shade of an oak.

        Then we rode bikes to the park
        and played baseball 'til dinner.






    A day for baseball
    Suddenly, a thunderstorm!
    Puddles at third base.





    In you, I see me.
    Our thoughts are clearly in sync.
    And that gives me pause.








    To amuse themselves,
    she would sing, he'd whistle ... but
    always diff'rent tunes.








    The pre-War building
    stands in stark contrast to the
    soul-less skyscrapers.







    Double haiku: 

    Lush forestation
    made progress difficult, and
    hid the waterfalls.
    But ... the explorers
    finally found their way into
    this "heart of darkness."




    Impulsive actions
    are often triggered by what
    echoes in our hearts.








    Conundrums collide!
    Climactic catastrophes
    clearly caused chaos!








    Yearning for peaches,
    he settled for nectarines.
    Second fiddle fruit.








    Voids are always filled.
    Whisperers find Whisperees ...
    ( in the Library.)






    Heartfelt homilies
    gave Sunday morning breakfasts
    ample food for thought.






    Bonus Poem:

    I posted this a couple of years ago, but I came across it the other day and it still made me chuckle, so I'm posting it again.  About a dozen years ago, I was lying in a hospital bed, and the television had not been hooked up yet, so I was listening to The Raymond Scott Quintet on my iPod ... Raymond Scott was a popular big-band leader from the late 30's and 40's, who, later, became one of the pioneers of electronic music. He was also married to singer Dorothy Collins and worked for Mo-Town in the 60's as head of their electronic music division. One of the songs on the album was titled, "Yesterday's Ice-cubes are Water Today." So I start making up this poem in my head, using the title of the song as the first line of the poem, but not having pen and paper handy, I had to keep repeating it over and over in my head until the next morning when I was able to write it down ...

    Yesterday's ice-cubes are water today,
    What once was cool has melted away,
    Evaporation must come to us all,
    Back up to the clouds so the rain can then fall,

    Fall to the stream, flow to the river,
    from faucet to freezer we soon start to shiver,
    We're back being ice-cubes, don't know where or when,
    we just know the process starts over again,

    Our minds try to tell us there is only the Now,
    As if Life after Now is a fiction somehow,
    But the soul goes on being, though each time here is fleeting,
    To glimpse the eternal, well ... that would be cheating,

    For we are just ice-cubes,
    at being cool, we're the best,
    We can understand melting,
    but have to trust all the rest.


    and here's the song of the same name by Raymond Scott:










    inside his wallet

    a five-spot making the rounds

    scotch, with a beer back

    Good one, Oxy!

    Inside his wallet
    was a lonely place to live,
    Single sawbuck sighs.

    In between the lines

    was a lonely place to live ...

    so she used crayons.

    Nice, Missy!


    In between the lines,
    she'd written stage directions.
    Smart understudy.

    In between her lines

    she practiced for the next one

    "Hark, a noise yonder"

    Good one, Oxy!

    Hark! A noise yonder
    echoes through the dark of night
    Gather the horses!

    inside his wallet

    a five-spot plans its escape

    "the usual, Flo"


    Ha!  Nice!

    The usual flow
    receives the usual ebb ...
    The moon rules the tides.



    They are so so pure

    They smell so so very nice

    They are without sin

    There is purity

    This new babe will be middle

    A fetus decides


    Surrounded by girls

    This time it might be a boy

    Daddy loves his girls

    It might be a boy

    Mommy feels a 'difference'.

    A boy lies within

    No sonogram yet

    But Daddy loves his babies

    And yet I shall pray

    Watching families

    Develop before my eyes

    I feel there is hope

    Watching these children

    Develop with parents who care

    Gives me so much hope



    Wonderful.  Thanks for the poem, DD. 

    Many a great man
    has been brought low by the smell
    of baby powder.



    Congratulations to your whole growing family, Dick!!

    These are goooooood people Missy.

    Mama gave my son instructions early on.

    He has given breakfast to the Precious from the beginning.

    He keeps on keepin on and just loves his new one, one year old.

    I think he should stop at three but I have no power. hahahahah

    He found this woman who loves children. and who is a teacher and who loves children.


    My son is captivated.

    Sometimes things work out okay.

    This is me, not my son, but I sincerely hope he gets a son.

    He shall find new trials and tribulations thereby. hahahaha

    I had to add this.

    You cannot tell how a father loves his kids from how he reacts to them during short stints.

    You discover these things by watching the kids respond to Daddy.

    And they like him fine!

    Well, if he's a he he'll have to endure having two big sisters ... not always easy! And if she's a she she'll have to endure hand-me-downs ... never fun! But whether a he or a she there'll be lots of love to help along the way, including Grandpa's.



    She was just a child

    when an angry world destroyed

    her innocent glow.

    Cynical and hard,

    she fought back against questions

    that would plague her dreams.

    As the years collapsed

    into desperate struggles,

    life began to change.

    Quietly, she learned.

    With steadfast resolve, she grew.

    She was worth the time.

    Wow.  Wonderful. 

    suicidal watermelon....

    This kept popping up on my newsfeed over the weekend.


    I gave you my heart.
    You only wanted my seeds;
    Flash of waxy rind.

    I gave you my heart ...

    even though its sweetness died

    a watery death.

    Nice, Missy!

    I gave you my heart
    and now my blood is pooling.
    Form follows function.

    Good one, moat!

    I gave you my heart.
    Tuck it in your shirtwaist and
    gaze at it often.



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