MrSmith1's picture

    A Lazy, Hazy, Crazy Friday Afternoon at the Haikulodeon

     

     

     


    Here's this week's heap of haikus:

     

     

    Wear a morning coat
    of paint in afternoon light
    while it's evening.

     


    ---

     

     

    I ride an old paint,
    I lead an old Dan, but I'd
    Rather not, y'know ...

     


    ---

     


    riddle-ku:

    Why is a cat like
    a burning monk? 'Cuz neither's
    putting itself out.


    ---


    tanka haiku:

     

    Grandpa used to say:
    troubles are like guitar strings;
    you pick and play them.

    (Grandpa was not real good at
    making up analogies.)


    ---


    Lunch with an old friend;
    laughter at shared history,
    tears for tomorrow.

     

    ---

     

    Double haiku:

     

    In a sleepy town,
    off the beaten path, lived a
    man who knew nothing.

    He was fed by cows,
    carried by horses and was
    worshiped by his dogs.

     

     


    ---

    Note to Gamblers: If
    you can't bluff without laughing,
    Joker, don't poker.

     


    ---


    haiku triplet:  


    Another shooting.
    Still more lives lost, more wounded.
    Still too many guns.

    Too many shooters
    that should never own a gun,
    can still get a gun.

    Stop protecting the
    guilty by hiding them 'midst
    all the innocent.


    ---

     

     

    Life's overwhelming
    Ev'rywhere I turn, brings pain,
    I'm feeling helpless

     

     

     

     

    ---

     

     

     

     

     

    Imagine that you
    invent an instrument but
    never hear it play.

     

     

    ---

     

     

    It is Summertime.
    The livin's easy and the
    fishin' is sublime.


    (My mom in the mid-1930's)

     

    ---

     


     

    If he Kandinsky,
    why can't he dance-ski? I don't
    know, I'm just askin'
    .

     

     

     

    ---

     

     

     

    Sitting on her porch
    on a Summer's afternoon,
    she feels a cool breeze.

     

    (My maternal grandmother about 1917)
     

     

    ---

     

     

    Many young girls are
    embarrassed by brothers who
    can't keep their pants up.

    (My dad and his older sister about 1918.)

    ---

     

    A summer day,  young
    girl and a picnic table
    will make a man yearn.

    ( My mom around 1940-41.)

     

     

    ---

     

     

    To avoid sunstroke,
    she hid herself under some
    very big-leafed plants.

    (My mom from around 1924)

     

     

    ---

     

     

    a lady bug might
    fall into a manhole, but
    flies will zip right up.

     

     


    ---

     

     


    Ride through my garden,
    park beneath the sycamore,
    let me pluck your spokes.

     


    ---

     

     

    Beauty is fleeting,
    like Cinderella rushing
    back home at midnight.

     

     


    ---

     

     


    Married for ten years
    and never an argument ...
    just bitter feelings.


     

     

    ---

     

     

     

     

     


     

     

    I packed my swimsuit,
    but we must carve a mountain ...
    hope someone brought knives.

     

     


    ---

     

     


    Secret to success?
    It's very simple really ...
    showing up again.


    ---

     

     


    A Novocaine dream
    will often have one sub-text;
    Never trust Dentists.

     

     

    ---

     

     


    That was the weird thing;
    it could ALL be really dumb,
    Republicans don't care.


     

     

    ---


     

     

    She has a point, though
    he was loathe to admit it.
    He hated losing.

     
     

     

    ---


     

     

    Smokey the bear says:
    "A burning forest won't be
    putting itself out."

     

     

     


    ---


     

     

    Friendships may not last,
    People grow apart, and then,
    a hand is withdrawn.


     

    ---


     

     

    If 'er don't like it,
    the match, she won't strike it,
    smoke 'em ... then poke 'em.

     

    ---

     

     

     

    Many a forest
    will offer stumps to sit on
    while you play your flute.


     

    ---


     

     

    If you tug a thread,
    keep in mind that the sweater
    just might unravel.

     

     


    ---


     

     

     Clumps of tourists gawk,
    in the middle of Times Square
    The neon dazzles.

     

     

     

    ---

     

     

     

    When she walked away,
    I brought my hands to my face,
    to hold in my dreams.

     

     

    ---

     

     

    She sneezed her dress off
    Which caused quite a kerfuffle
    in the Vatican.

     

     

    ---

     

     

     

     

    double haiku:

     

    An Irish Setter,
    gallops through Riverside Park,
    greeting each toddler.

    His owner just laughs,
    reassuring scared nannys,
    the dog is friendly.


    ---

     

     

    Each day, he walked through
    his garden and picked a rose
    to place on her grave.

     


    ---


     

    When you have learned to
    accept what you can not change;
    what can't change, just might.


     

     

    ---

     

     

    As I fall asleep,
    lingering memories drift
    through my consciousness

     

     


    ---

     

     


    As our lives go on,
    our hardships may increase, so we
    make bargains with God.


     

    ---

     

     

    I am a student
    and always will be. My school
    is all around me.

     

     


    ---

     

    That Summer, he took
    a break from kindergarten
    to pilot a boat.

    (5 and 1/2 year old me "piloting" a boat on Long Island Sound.)

     

     

    ----

     


    I feel so alone.
    I watch the tide come in and
    think of yesterday.

     


    ---

     


    The deepening blue
    gently quiets golden waves.  
    Nightfall approaches.

     

     

     

    ---

     

     

     

    tanka haiku:
     
    Small dogs are barking,
    the TV in the bedroom
    says the market's up.

       The sun has still not risen
       as we are saving daylight.

     

     

    ---

     

     

    once upon a time-ku:

     

    Being adult meant
    a clean, folded handkerchief
    in your breast pocket.

     

     

    ---

     

     

    Double haiku:


     
    My walk tired me,
    I rested under a tree,
    my thoughts wandering.
     
    Alas, wandering
    thoughts seldom sleep. In fact. they,
    often run ahead.

     

     

    ---

     

     

    I've been a little busy the past couple of days, so this heap feels a bit smaller than usual.  I will try adding some more haikus to it over the weekend. 

     

    ****

     

     

    Comments

    You made my very rainy wet night a little nicer.  We are getting hammered with rain on the West Coast of Florida this week end.  There will be lots of flooding before this is over with. Maybe even a tropical storm after it pushes through to the Keys.


     

    Thanks trking!!  I hope you can manage to stay dry!

     

     


    A single moment.

    Frozen, left behind the door

    like a speck of dust.

    Solitary time.

    Speechless, hanging in the air

    of a humid day.


    Nice Missy!

     

    Like a speck of dust
    on a humid day, I hide
    behind the sofa.

     


    Very good, barefooted.


    Love the boat picture, Smith.


     

    The boat belonged to our neighbors when we lived in Port Washington, NY.   They were an interesting couple.   We lived on Middle Neck Rd at the time (1950 - 1955) and about 50 ft from our driveway, everything changed as it was the border of Port Washington, a middle class neighborhood and Sands Point, a wealthy community. 


    At Summer church camp

    he fell in love with Mary,

    packaged with Jesus.


    Good one, Oxy!
     

    At the Hootenanny,
    he fell in love with Mary,
    sans Peter and Paul.


    I get so damned lost

    I get so damned lost at times

    I find hope at times

    I can find hope here

    I can find hope here sometimes

    I can find purpose

    Smith does find hope here

    I can tell that he does so

    I can read him here

    I was corrected

    I was corrected here twice

    Corrected this week

    hahahahahah

    If nobody reads

    If nobody reads your stuff

    There's no corrections

    ha

    Lost my editor

    She left with no corrections

    She was here lately

    But only in mind

    No editor helps my writes

    But I stick it out

    hahahahah

    the end

    that's all I got tonite

    You keep on keepin on Mr. Smith

    People like you here.

    So do I.

    here is a happy song for old folks who wish to make fun of young folks

    If we cannot make fun of young folks, what do we have after all?

    ha


    I get so damned lost

    I get so damned lost at times

    I can find hope here.

     

    per D.Day. 

    (A beautiful embedded haiku, Mr. Day. I just wanted to separate it out because you speak the damned truth)

    Love ya!


    I agree  Oxy.   But DD's entries here usually follow the haiku form even though it may seem to be just a rant or a stream of consciousness musing.  That's what gets me.  His words always fascinate and enchant.... For example, continuing from where you left off: 

    I can find hope here
    I can find hope here sometimes
    I can find purpose.

    Nicely done, DD!  (I probably don't say that often enough,)

     

     


    Can you imagine that at this age I become embarrassed?

    hahhaahah

    Thank you both.

    I had to add that there is a freedom in this corner, but I take advantage of this new freedom all the time in my posts.

    This is me.

    This is how I think.

    I wish I could have become free fifty years or so earlier in my life.

    why in the world should I or we ever write anything that does not come from our 'souls'?

    I am pontificating again, huh?

    Just a thought.


    Here's a thought in return ... It takes some of us a long while to reach the point of being able to write from our souls.  At first, we are too young and have nothing worth saying; our souls are still forming and have only the echoes of our parents or teachers thoughts to give away in our writings.  Then comes a time of embarrassment, in which the status of who we are is being established and, solidified in our minds and in the world.  We shield our souls and our feelings to protect ourselves from both other people's thoughts and the withering assessment of ourselves from our loved one's judgments..   That is a hard time in which to go 'all in' by revealing the truth in our hearts.  We play safe to protect ourselves and keep the hurt of defeat from totally destroying us.  Then we reach an age where none of it matters.  We have reached whatever station in our careers we're going to reach, we've lost the things that attracted people to us in our youth and now have to rely on what is left; our truth and the depth of our souls.  We reach an age where the prettiest, handsomest thing about us is our truth, our genuine-ness, our self-deprecating humor, our view of the world that says, I have tasted Life, and I know pain and pleasure and will tell you stories that are based on that truth and experience.  It is a time for us to be listened to.  It is a time for us to continue to think and feel and create.  It is a time for which we are finally ready.


    Write more.  I am going to from now on.


    THIS IS SHEER POETRY.

    Well done!


    Thanks DD.      Sometimes words just spill out of me.


    It is a time for us to be listened to.  It is a time for us to continue to think and feel and create.  It is a time for which we are finally ready.

    And so you become an Elder....with a capital E.

     


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