The Bishop and the Butterfly: Murder, Politics, and the End of the Jazz Age
    MrSmith1's picture

    An August Friday Afternoon at the Haikulodeon

    By MrSmith1 on Fri, 08/24/2012 - 12:56pm |

     

    Here's this week's heap of haikus:
     
     
     
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    Looking down from Space,
    all the clouds are upside down ...
    making earth, heaven.
     
     
     
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    Scribbled reminders
    that I can not decipher
    simply make me laugh.
     
     
     
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    Do you still explore?
    Search for meaning in all things?
    Are you still a child?
     
     
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    He asked, "How are you?"
    She shouted, "Tin roof rusted!"
    Oh Baby, indeed.
     
     
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     My street gets speed bumps
    installed tomorrow. Fun times
    for Access-a-Rides.
     
     
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    When you're old, no one
    recalls your childhood 'cept
    your older sibling.
     
     
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    As Life slowly ebbed,
    he grabbed his wife's sleeve ... "Please Dear,
    sing me one more song."
     
     
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    Winter-time haiku: The boy ate his toast,
    lying on the heating vent
    in the cold hallway.
     
     
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    haiku-time-machine: Heathens roam the streets!
    Danger lurking ev'rywhere!
    Protesting hippies!
     
     
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    Yesterday's roses,
    in fullness of bloom ... recall
    our halcyon days.
     
     
    --------------------------------------------------
     
     
    50's moms complained,
    their rags smelled of Carbona,
    even after washing.
     
     
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    Into the street, the
    texting pedestrian steps ...
    days later, she wakes.
     
     
    --------------------------------------------------
     
     
     A moonlit whisper,
    two lovers in silhouette,
    embrace with passion.
     
     
    --------------------------------------------------
     
     
     Waiting in the wings,
    and listening for his cue,
    He can't find his props.
     
     
     
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    In his father's desk,
    lived a letter never sent,
    urging forgiveness.
     
     
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    tanka haiku:

    The house lights dimmed, the
    orchestra began to play,
    a brash Broadway score.

    Musicals can fill our hearts
    with an overwhelming joy!
     
     
     
    ----------------------------------------
     
     
     
    In her mind were thoughts
    that she kept all to herself;
    Roses in concrete.
     
     
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    In a quiet rain,
    my thoughts ricochet about,
    dampening my mood.
     
     
     
    ----------------------------------------
     
     
    His tortured soul found
    small measures of contentment
    just beyond its reach.
     
     
    --------------------------------------------
     
     
     
    Emerging shadows,
    late on Friday afternoon,
    make me fear nightfall.
     
     
    -----------------------------------------------
     
     
     
    At last, there's closure.
    The next chapter will begin ...
    in 3, 2, 1 ... Go.
     
     
     
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     He's not nearly 'in',
    nor even fairl    y close, but
    close enough for jazz.
     
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