MrSmith1's picture

    A Blissfully Ignorant Friday Afternoon at the Haikulodeon

     

    Quietly, the dusk
    soothes the ocean waters and
    calms the day for night.

     

    (Photo courtesy Kristina Rebelo)

     

     

    Here's the rest of this week's heap of haikus:

     

    Special Edition: *You-Do-the-Haiku*

    Special Guest haiku by my pal, Jim Weatherhead
     

    I and I alone”
    manic rants of grandeur fuel
    minion’s illusions.

     

     

     

     

    ---

     

     

     

     

    A clown, a gypsy ...
    one dances the night away
    wearing some red shoes


    (Photo:  In the early 70's, I played a Gypsy with a bad mustache and fake eyebrows, and my friend, Denise Moses played a clown who couldn't speak, in a Children's Theater production of The Red Shoes.   To promote the play, we went on Ho-Ho the Clown's TV show in Oklahoma City. I was doing this ridiculously over-the-top accent and, since Denise's role was a mute, I got to do all the talking. Ho-Ho was amused, and let me read the Happy Birthday greetings with him and Denise and I did some silly stuff and promoted the show and when we left, Ho-Ho turned to his puppet co-star and said something to the effect of, "Isn't that just about the silliest thing you've ever seen?" and the puppet, paused a moment and then shot back, "You're one to talk, you've got a red ball on your nose and you're talking to a guy with a sock on his hand." And yes, I swear he really said that on-air. The stage hands were laughing so hard, you could barely hear Ho-Ho, trying not to crack up, introduce the cartoon ...)

     

     

     


    double haiku:
     

    Two ballet dancers
    arch their backs and reach their arms
    up to the heavens.

     

    A plea to God to
    understand the suffering
    of this mortal realm.

     


     

     

     ---

     

     


    Waving our goodbyes
    we climb into the car and
    begin our trip home.

     

     

     

     

    ---

     

     

     

    tanka haiku:

     

    All men were once boys,
    All leaders, once followers,
    Wise men, ignorant.

    Neither resent nor regret,
    all will soon enough be frail.

     

     

    ---

     

     

     

    When authorities
    abuse minorities, check
    your priorities.

     

     

     

     
    ---

     

    haiku quartet:


    Tennessee Whiskey
    smoothly trickles down my throat,
    savor the swallow.

    Backwoods honky-tonk,
    Woman in a short blue dress,
    watches me get drunk.

    I get up to leave
    she gets up to see me go
    in that short blue dress.

    Sittin' in my armchair
    thinkin' 'bout that short blue dress ...
    I go back for more.

     

     

     

     

     

    ---

     

     

     

    Overheard at a
    sidewalk cafe; "I hate her,
    she's so full of snot."

    (Actual verbatim dialog heard by me while strolling down an NYC street one day ... )

     

     

     

     

     


    ---

     

     


    Muted shades of dawn,
    the pier in the distance fades
    into memories.

     

     

    ( Photo courtesy Kristina Rebelo )

     

     

     

     

    ---

     

     

     

     

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


     

     

     

     

     

     

    ----

     

     

     

    Swirling dust bunnies
    make it difficult for me
    to find what I dropped

     

     

     


    ---

     

     


     

     

    Stop ... Listen to me.
    Nothing will last. Got it? Good.
    Now go out and play.

     

     

     

     

     

    ---


     

     

     

     

    Though she feigns int'rest,
    She simply can't get into,
    Sports or Politics.

     

     

     

     

    ---

     

     

     

     

     

    A receding tide,
    May reveal many secrets,
    Buried in the sand.

     

     

     

     

     

    ---

     

     

     

     


    Being Left-handed,
    isn't really a problem,
    it's just never right ...

     

     

     

     

     

    ---

     

     

     

     


    tanka haiku:

     

    You are not happy
    with the way things turned out? ... Ask
    for a mulligan.

    This time, 'stead of a three wood,
    try using a pitching wedge.

     

     

     


    ---

     

     

     

     


    Too little to do,
    Or too much to remember ...
    Which do you prefer?

     

     

     


    ---

     

     

     

     


    Will it ever end
    this d*mned oppressive heat wave?
    Turn up the a/c!

     

     

     


    ---

     

     

     

     

    Wilting from the heat,
    A dog learns fire hydrants
    Also spurt water ...

     

     

     

     

    ---

     

       

     

    Random photographs
    of New York sidewalks might be ...
    uninteresting.

    (Random snapshots taken the other day while waiting for my Access-a-Ride pick-up.)

     

     

     

    ---

     

     


    In a storefront church,
    A young girl began to sing,
    And the angels wept.

     

     

     

     

    ---

     

     

     

     

     

    haiku quartet:

     

    Please make up your mind,
    Am I your heart's desire,
    Or scum of the earth?

    Yes, that is the choice,
    I don't want to play both parts,
    Can't we meet half-way?

    You'll put up with me,
    I'll forget it's your birthday,
    But then, send flowers.

    Thrown under Love's bus,
    But facing oblivion,
    Our hearts compromise.

     

     

     

     


    ---

     

     

     

     


    Whispering children,
    giggling in a corner,
    secret adventures

     

     

     

     

    ---

     

     

     

     

    He tried to please her,
    he tried to reason with her,
    she tried his patience.

     

     

     

     


    ---

     

     

     


    If you own a gun,
    you've agreed to a world where
    shooting's an option.

     

     

     

    ---

     

     

     

     


    A Saturday kind
    of enthusiasm, a
    Sunday kind of Love ...

     

     

    ---

     

     


    Little girls on swings
    always seem so happy, as
    if they've learned to fly.

     

     

    (My mom - circa 1923.)

     

     

     

     

     
    ---

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

    Things start off badly
    the elevator is out
    I needed the lift.

     

     

     

     

    ---

     

     

     

     


    Hidden in the grass
    tortoise-shell reading glasses
    covered with dog spit.

     

     

     

     


    ---

     

     

     

     


    Her head on my shoulder,
    my arm around her waist, we
    waltz the night away.

     

     

     


    ---

     

     

     

    We once did great things ...
    but the greed of the rich has
    stolen our future.

     

     

     

     

    ---

     

     

     

     

    Shouting from rooftops,
    'My humility's the best!!',
    sends ... a mixed message.

     

     

     

    ---

     

     


    Regrets at sunset,
    never fully wipe away,
    the sins of today.

     

     

     

    ---

     

     

    Quiet young ladies
    sit in Starbucks and "like" their
    own Facebook comments.

     

     

     

    ---

     

     

     

    Words had no effect,
    so, reluctantly, he tried
    throwing sticks and stones.

     

     

     

    ---


     

    tanka haiku:


    The boat was blue and
    the paint was peeling ... Your
    hat soft on my ears ...

      between us, at that moment,
      there was this great happiness.


    Photo of me in 1972, as Private Gar in a college production of Brian Friel's "Philadelphia Here I Come!" The tanka haiku is loosely based on one of Gar's speeches.

     


    ---

     

     

    Unintentional
    upstaging by unknown lads ...     
    Well, look who it is
    ...

    (A young British girl, Helen Shapiro, performs with the help of three un-named guys in 1963 on a British show, Ready, Steady, Go.)

     

    ****

     

     

     

    Comments

    Self promotion is
    pasta thrown against the wall
    hoping it will stick.


    Excellent, moat!!

     

    Self promotion! ... or
    Become a General ... just
    be unspecific.  
     


    I am so bad at this....hahahha

    xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

    But there was a time

    Not so very long ago

    That I felt some hope

    Then I got older

     I looked into the mirror

    Reflections scare me

    This happened later

    And later than JFK

    But there has been hope

    And where am I really now?

    Hannity where are

    Where are you really now Sean

    Hannity is here.

    We are Hannity

    All of us responsible

    In the longer run.

    I want fame and more

    I want fame and power tho

    Oh and money too.

    THE END

     

     

     


    Nice, DD.

     


    Time is the killer of hope,
    Age the renewer of virtue.

    Our vanity seeks an older mirror,
    our wisdom thinks better of looking.

    The strength of our passion
    will yield to the weakness of empathy.

    We are at war, my friend, at war.

    Fighting time means ultimate surrender.
    Forgiving our weakness will open ev'ry locked door.


    (Sorry, I know it's not a haiku. This just sort of blurped out as I was thinking of what I should say to you. ) 

     


    You should blurp more often, Mr. Smith. yes


    Thank you, Flower.   I will try to blurp more ... or at least not suppress my blurps when I'm at the computer.

    wink

     


    We are Hannity?
    Mr. Jones is just like me,
    holding that pencil.

    But even he won't own this.
    Songs come to an end.

     


     

     


    Good one, moat!!

    Never-ending songs
    often go into re-verse ...?
    Of chorus they do.


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