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

    Yet another Friday afternoon at the haiku-lodeon.

    By MrSmith1 on Fri, 03/23/2012 - 2:40pm |

     

    This week's heap of haikus:
     
     
     
    tanka haiku: Would you trust YOUR life
    to a stranger's 'assumptions'
    about who you are? 
     
       When they 'stand their ground', can they 
        perceive the blood on their hands?
     
     
    ------------------------------------------------
     
     
    In front of the bank,
    a man asks for spare change, while
    dogs bark noisily.
     
     
    ------------------------------
     
     
     The boy was upset ...
    there's a hole in his pocket
    and his 'stuff' is gone!
     
     
    ------------------------------
     
     
    Scheming violets
    tumble o'er the garden's edge
    in search of their roots.
     
     
    -------------------------------
     
     
    double haiku: The most flirtatious
    women, can not turn my head.
    (damn this neck fusion.)

    They can, however,
    make me pivot and sometimes
    that's even better.
     
     
    -------------------------------
     
     
    Art has such power;
    it can sing to our hearts, songs
    our minds can not hear.
     
     
    -------------------------------
     
     
    Hidden in boxes
    were a flood of poems, which
    explained ev'rything.
     
     
    --------------------------------
     
     
    My calico cat
    has all sorts of adventures
    while I am at work.
     
     
    ------------------------------
     
     
    In the far corner
    of my garden, near the fence,
    purple asters bloom.
     
     
    ----------------------------------
     
     
    A lovely Spring day
    brings people out of doors and
    out of their doldrums.
     
     
    ---------------------------------------
     
     
    Her words, so honest.
    Her self-critique inspired.
    Peace within her grasp.
     
     
    ------------------------------------
     
     
    Lanterns on porches
    keep lonely vigils; shining
    till our hope returns
     
     
    -------------------------------------
     
     
    .Are you a beacon?
    Shine your light so others see.
    Enlighten the world.
     
     
    -----------------------------------
     
     

    Sitting in a church,

    wondering how I got there ... 

    I mean, Ohio.'

     

     

    -------------------------------------
     
     
    You don't always know,
    When you have stepped from a field,
    Into a meadow.
     
     
    -------------------------------------
     
     
    While dealing the hand,
    he noticed the six of clubs,
    lying on the floor. 
     
     
    --------------------------------------
     
     
    She leaned and whispered,
    'I will never forget you',
    But, by May, she had.
     
     
    ----------------------------------------
     
     
    Hailing a taxi,
    her scarf flutters in the breeze,
    God, I wish she'd stay.
     
     
    ---------------------------------------------
     
     
    Sitting on my roof,
    watching the moon peeking out,
    from behind storm clouds.
     
     
    ------------------------------------------------
     
     
    When I'm all alone,
    In my heart and in my mind,
    You reverberate.
     

    --------------------------------
     
     
    Laughter's a rainstorm,
    that washes away the gloom,
    and cleanses the mind.
     
     
    -------------------------------------
     
     
    A 'souped-up' roadster,
    screamingly revs its engine,
    then lays some rubber.
     
    ---------------------------------------
     
     
    Double haiku: The out-of-towner
     
    asks the bagel  store worker,
     
    "What's the softest one?"
     

    To which the worker,

    Replies, "The softest bagel,

    would be a croissant." 

     

     
    ------------------------------------------------
     
     
    Also posted at www.thehaikulodeon.com
     

    Comments

     A theme of misplaced items and random locations.

     

    The wood lets you know

    when the chisel shapes the hand;

    Skill is a garden.

     

     


    by moat on Sun, 03/25/2012 - 2:00pm

    It's funny, I'm almost never aware that there are themes. But when you point them out, they seem so obvious.  Thank you for your insights.

    Nice haiku, btw.

     

    Skill's a garden that
    grows when we attend it and
    withers from neglect.  


    by MrSmith1 on Sun, 03/25/2012 - 3:58pm