MrSmith1's picture

    A Smoke-clearing Friday Afternoon at the Haikulodeon


    Here's this week's heap of haikus:


    Ha, ha, ha, it's Spring!
    The lap-dogs of Winter are
    in retreat! Hoo-ray!!




    MrSmith1's picture

    A Sun-settled Friday Afternoon at the Haikulodeon



    This week, I thought I'd try something a little different; a theme posting. 

    Not all, but most of the haikus and photos this week are sunset related.

    (All photos courtesy of Kristina Rebelo unless otherwise noted.)


    Richard Day's picture


    I have been better off in this life having had the opportunity to read some of the works of Cervantes.

    Ted Dryser found dead.


    Former national security analyst in the Bush Administration found dead in Miller's Falls, N.Y.

    That headline was to turn my early retirement from the FBI lab in Quantico into an unwanted assignment to track down and capture the U.S. back-channel Saudi envoy who through a combination of the new Bush's Administration's frat-house judgment and bureaucratic incompetence had managed, in the late days of August, 2001, to alert Osama Bin Laden to imminent armed drone attacks on his camp in Afghanistan.

    MrSmith1's picture

    An Updated Friday Afternoon at the Haikulodeon


    Here's this week's heap of haikus:



    The whites of her eyes
    were red with weeping, the blues
    were never bluer.


    MrSmith1's picture

    A Phlegm-filled Friday Afternoon at the Haikulodeon



    Here's this week's heap of haikus:




    With pointy ears and
    impeccable logic, he
    lived long and prospered.

    (Leonard Nimoy RIP)



    MrSmith1's picture

    The Warmth of Another Friday Afternoon at the Haikulodeon


    Here's this week's heap of haikus:



    Tell me your secrets
    and my heart will be yours.  True
    love will last forever.





    Shades of Fifty Truckers


    Printed paperback books had re-emerged in companionship with the introduction of "mommy porn", the first fruit of the splinter-demographic-porn-fiction movement---which now encompassed "plumber porn", "farmer porn" and, thanks to Ena Faye Wilkins, "trucker porn".

    barefooted's picture

    Scratching An Itch

    I've been feeling the urge to write something lately, and it's really starting to annoy me. I keep waiting for a spark, maybe something in the news or just a moment of personal introspection that demands expression. Anything to grab me and shake the words onto the page until my head hurts. And if it doesn't happen soon I may cease to exist.

    MrSmith1's picture

    Jeepers It's A Cold Friday Afternoon at the Haikulodeon



    Here's this week's heap of haikus:

    In spite of the cold,
    a bird sits in a tree and
    sings its song of Spring.


    Icy sidewalks dare
    my hip replacement; take a
    walk on the wild side.


    Dickie Ray's new Venture


    An investor in small start-up companies, I had given a guy named Dickie Ray Hoskins some front money for his new venture and arranged for him to meet with the Peoples bank of Paris, Texas, to get an operating loan. I had a good relationship with Tiffany, the loan manager, who had acquired her skills with a much larger bank in Chicago. She was in her early thirties, smart and attractive.

    MrSmith1's picture

    A Frosty, Frigid Friday Afternoon at the Haikulodeon



    Here's this week's heap of haikus:




    Wellsprings of Support
    may flow from unknown sources
    to lift up your life.




    The importance of being carl.


    Jane was a "closet" anti-vaxxer---not the sort of attribute one might expect in a high profile CEO of a large conglomerate of hotels and restaurant chains.  She worked in downtown L.A. and lived in Pasadena where her twin girls went to a private school---which had just sent them home because of a large measles outbreak in California.

    trkingmomoe's picture

    I'll Tell You A Story

    This is a beautiful time laps of the eruption of Bardarbunga in Iceland from Jan. 31 to Feb. 2.  The poem was written and read by Leslie Robson Gumpf.  Enjoy the beautiful natural art.


    Two hundred dollars short.


    Vera shuffled into a strip mall bank branch which was flanked by a nail salon and a vitamin shop. The mall had drifted into premature uselessness, with half the stores selling vacancy signs. Vera wore a quilted robe with ample splashes of fur in floral patterns front and back plus on the cuffs, collar and hemline. On her feet were white cotton slippers with velcro straps undone. As she flowed up to a teller window, clumps of streaked grey hair tried to escape from underneath a fraying ball cap.

    MrSmith1's picture

    A Pre-Super Friday Afternoon at the Haikulodeon




    Here’s this week’s heap of haikus:



    Rod McKuen's died.
    All Jean would say is that he
    couldn't sing either.


    (Just kidding – RIP Rod McKuen )


    Heartless Poet


    He wanted one poem to plop down in his lap,

    Contented and revealing within the first draft;

    It's phrases weaned...lines well proportioned,

    .....a poem like that seldom walks in the door.


    We need to talk. she said.

    Odd timing, he said, I'm writing.

    No, I mean it, she said.

    O.K., just a minute,

        .. a wildflower steals under yon fence row,

         poignant, the shy hues of parting glances,

    Is your heart in this? she asked.

    MrSmith1's picture

    A Recuperative Friday Afternoon at the Haikulodeon



    Here's this week's rather meager heap of haikus:



    Sometimes if you stare
    hard enough you can convince
    folks of anything.

    barefooted's picture

    Ball Talk

    Why are so many people talking about balls all of a sudden? I just don't understand it. Balls have been hanging around for a long time, but now there's all this fuss about how hard they're supposed to be! Did you hear they're even on TV deciding how much balls should weigh? Yes, really!

    trkingmomoe's picture

    Dynamic Scoring! (Rag Time)

    I ran across this today. I picked the few that I thought was really great. 



    MrSmith1's picture

    A Funny, Freezing, Friday Afternoon at the Haikulodeon


    Here's this week's heap of haikus:


    A cold wind will blow
    o'er any innovation
    'til it catches fire.



    Twilight, cold and wet ...
    To ease the chill in my bones,
    a savory bisque!




    A New Year Rose Ceremony.


    When I was in High School I was active in a Baptist church which today stands in near ruins, its stained glass windows having been extracted and used in an office complex.

    The pastor took a special interest in me and when I turned sixteen and could drive my mother's Chevy, he suggested me as a Sunday substitute preacher at some smaller country churches.I had several prepared sermons and stuck to basic themes. On the debate team in High School, I was not bad on my feet.

    wabby's picture

    O, Christmas Tree!

    I love trees in general. Yeah. I've hugged 'em. So, my affection for Christmas trees should come as no surprise. Even though I do not follow the Christian faith, I have come to understand not being Christian does not necessarily stop anyone from putting up a Christmas tree. It has become, I think, a kind of generic symbol of gift-giving, good tidings and joy.


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