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

    A Flirty Friday Afternoon at the Haikulodeon

     

     

    Here's this week's heap of haikus:

     

     


    (More from the series, "At Rest" ...)

     

     

    The trans-gender dad
    had gained a few pounds ... his mean
    kids called him, "Fat her"...

     

    (Photo courtesy of Tom Contrino)

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    Her grave was marked with
    a single flower; she had
    lost her bloom too soon.

    --

    A past imperfect
    A rose alone a symbol for
    a soul arisen.

     

    (Photo courtesy of Tom Contrino)


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    It says, "Hannah In" ...
    Which was reassuring to
    the Zombie Hunters.

     

    (Photo courtesy of Tom Contrino)

     

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    Why the Flower Show
    was raided by the police
    for Obscenity ...

     


    (Photo courtesy Kristina Rebelo)


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    The earth brown, sea blue,
    and sky a billowing grey ...
    Horizontal stripes.

     


    (Photo courtesy Kristina Rebelo)

     


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    The surfing contest
    was judged this year by women
    all named Harriet.

     


    (Photo courtesy Kristina Rebelo)


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    Californians
    show 8-legged ocean spiders
    that look like lobsters.

     

     


    (Photo courtesy Kristina Rebelo)

     

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    double haiku:

     
    In the barber's chairs,
    boys squirm and fidget ... meanwhile
    dad's reading Esquire.
     
    Sweeping up the hair,
    old men argue politics ...
    kids want lollipops.
     

     

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    I don't remember
    any of my grandparents;  I
    had to spoil myself.

     

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    Slowly I arose
    and craned to see the peaches
    'neath the bamboo tree.


     

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     Too many wind chimes,
    not enough jello shots; the
    story of her life.

     

     

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    Her deepest regret,
    was that she'd let him go ... and
    now he won't come back.
     

     

    ---
     


     

    There's just Black or White
    in the world of absolutes ...
    There are no rainbows.
     
     

     

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    tanka haiku:

     

    There is a sad fear
    that's buried deep in our hearts;
    that no love will last.

    So we pretend Time's not cruel
    and hope memories won't fade.
     
     
    --
     


     
    It's too warm to wear
    sweaters and corduroy pants.
    Damn, global warming!

     


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    Swirling embers rise,
    riding a smoky breeze, then
    die, and fall to earth


     

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    An unexpected
    infatuation can help
    mend a broken heart.

     

     

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    Will you walk with me
    to the crest of the hill, where
    new horizons wait?
     

     

     
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    Windows to our souls?
    Eyes may behold the world, but
    Minds create vision.


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    In the apple tree
    sits a happy little boy
    dangling his feet.

     

     

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    She seemed unaware,
    that her presence caused a scene;
    men in an uproar.

     

     

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    Though sealed with a kiss,
    her love letter was opened
    with some bitter tears.

     

     

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    A drizz'ly morning's
    walk through a nearby woods, cleared
    his mind of its gloom.

     

     

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    When busy swimming,
    you don’t think about drowning.
    So it is with Life.

     

     

     

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    Chasing a sunset,
    he hopes for one last glimpse as
    the day fades away ...

     

     


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    triple haiku:

     

    Consistency makes
    unimaginative lives
    seem less vacuous.

     

    Consistent is not
    a value, it's an action.
    (Erratic is too.)

     

    Be bold when needed,
    steady when necessary.
    Love the ups and downs.
     

     

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    Immortal souls that
    live in mortal bodies ... That's
    one of God's jokes, right?

     


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    The blaze of Autumn
    has begun to wither and
    gnarly winter bloom.

     

     


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    hanging limply from
    an overhead pipe; a sad,
    deflated balloon.


     

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    Please prioritize;
    carts go before horses and
    socks on before shoes.


     

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    Habit treads water,
    take a risk goes swimmingly,
    indecision drowns.


     

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    As a precaution,
    I wrapped my arms around her,
    then shared the sad news.

     
     

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    A quintet of haikus:

     

     

    Under a pale sky,
    a man in a hat, sits and
    reads his newspaper.

     

    As the daylight ebbs,
    the man folds the newspaper,
    gets up, and goes home.

     

    In the dark of night,
    he lies in bed and ponders
    all that he has learned ...

     

    and when he awakes,
    he gets up, finds his hat and
    grabs his newspaper.

     

    The mind's the engine,
    that drives our train of thought. We
    must keep feeding it.

     

    ---


     

    He hikes his socks up,
    she pulls his pants down... In Life,
    things will even out.

     


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    Willows in the wind,
    gently swaying back and forth,
    like sleepy dancers.


     

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    A sliver of moon,
    slicing through the clouds, restless
    shadows roam the fields.

     

     

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    Autumn in New York,
    leaves crackle underfoot as
    I stroll through the park.


     

     

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    Moon behind the clouds,
    fields aglow in bluish light,
    while foxes prowl.


     

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    All things pass away
    And all relationships change
    We are in motion.

     

     

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    Cunning conundrums,
    thoroughly mixed metaphors ...
    twisted conclusions.

     

     

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    When it's dinnertime
    in the cannibal village,
    stupid shows up first.

     

     

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    "I 'felt' it was true" ...
    has been the rationale for
    most of our mistakes.

     

     

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    Soft hands on rough stone,
    grasping for crevices, will
    soon form calluses.

     

     


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    In Life, two choices;
    remain bewildered, or seek
    clarification.
     
     

     

    ---
     
     
     
    The dark before dawn;
    lonely hearts beat quicker in
    anticipation.
     
     
     
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    Subtle shades of blue,
    but when in a purple haze,
    outcome indigo.

     


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    The role of youth is
    to snatch the hands of time from
    their elders ... and run!

     

     

     

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    The one thing we do
    that's as powerful as Love
    is ... that we Forgive.

     

    ****

     


    Sucker-punched by thugs,
    smooched by dames, he fires his gat ...
    (He dreams in film noir.)

     

     

    ---

     


    double haiku:

    Remember. thousands
    of things will go RIGHT for you,
    ev'ry single day.

    ( We often focus
    on what's gone wrong,  forgetting
    how much has gone right. ).

     

     

    *****

     

    This weekend, BlowUpRadio.com  once again brings together some of

    the best local indie musicians for the 8th annual Banding Together: A

    Benefit Webathon For The Spondylitis Association of America

    October 17-20.  Check it out!

    http://blowupradio.tripod.com/main.html

     

     

     

     

    Comments

    Fear, like a balloon,

    slowly becomes inflated

    by those who can't breathe.

    Inevitably,

    it will burst into pieces ...

    Resuscitation.


    Nice, barefooted!!

     

    More than what's needed

    is the downfall of all things,

    and why balloons burst

     

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    Fear is a radish

    small bits spice things up, but too

    much will make you sick.

     

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    A radish balloon?

    Would it burst and spray pepper

    up into the breeze?

    And what if it did?

    Would it wrinkle our noses

    and make us all sneeze?


    HA! Excellent, barefooted!!

     

    Stomachs balloon from

    too many radish florets ...

    ( Gaseous breezes.)

     

     


    Thank you.  The music is nice.  I have been listening to it will surfing.  I have to get back to work now so I will leave it on.  

    I was one of those kids that had to spoil myself.  I always did it with little things.  I think I still do that.  


    Thanks trkingmomoe!   I wonder if there have been any studies done about kids without grandparents...  I see the amazing job my sister does at both spoiling and being a steadying force in the lives of her grandkids and I wonder about everything that she and I missed out on by not having grandparents around when we were growing up.  
     

     

     


    I always would tell other kids when I was young not to gripe about going to their grand parents because at least they had some.  


    Thanks, Smith. Wonderful writing.

     

    Precaution:

    Dear, don't get upset.

    Got drunk, cheated, lost my phone,

    wrecked your car---o.k?


    Ha!   I love that one, Oxy!!

     

     

     


    Great lines and great pix.

    Tomb stones freak me out!

     


    Grandpa turned over.

    Seems the art of old tomb stones

    rubbed him the wrong way.


    HA!!  Excellent,Oxy!!

     

    The art of tombstones

    means you're often dealing with

    graven images.


    Graven, indeed, Smith. Or maybe craven.

    Tombstones can hurt you...

     

     

     

     


     

    At the O.K. Corral,
    The Clantons found living in
    Tombstone can hurt you.


    Good one. 

    There's also a town in Ariz. named Patagonia. Didn't some cowboys die there?

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     


    The wikipedia entry for Patagonia, AZ lists one of its notable current residents as Dinesh D'Souza.   Where is Wyatt Earp when you need him?   hahaha
     


    Aye,

    There's the rub!


    The canary died.

    It is time to leave the mine.

    Knowledge can hurt you.


    Hmmm ... good one, moat.

     

    The teacher threw a
    book at the sleeping pupil.
    Knowledge can hurt you.


    He pushed on the door,

    and stepped back twice when he saw

    the other people.


    Close enough to stare,

    but too far away to hear

    their explanation.


    I havn't been at the site for a while. Nice contribution, b.f.


    Nice one, barefooted!!

     

    Close enough to stare,

    and old enough to know what

    was worth staring at.


    That has the special moat-twist.  Great second and third read imagery.

     

     


    Excellent. moat!!

     

    The other people,

    (disgruntled to say the least),

    were staring daggers.

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

    .
     


    Oh what a wonder

    Fellows become so ignored

    But we get numbers!

    HA

    People read you now

    We get really good numbers

    It's fun, isn't it?

     


    Fun indeed, DD!!  But to tell the truth, these numbers mystify me ... And if there's one thing I have learned about myself over the years, it is that I am and always have been a figure-it-out-machine.   My silly brain always tries to figure things out and understand why one thing is one way and another another and then find a connection or causal relationship  ... But I just can't seem to find a rhyme nor reason why one week's haiku heap has thousands of views and another has mere hundreds.    HA. I know, be grateful it's hundreds and not tens, right?  I am, believe me, I am!  And thanks to you for being the best press agent a fledgling blogger ever had!  


    Yeah, but just remember that I get ten percent.

    hahahahahahah


    a

     


    I added you to my facebook page this week.