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

    All Saints Bobble-Head Day This Friday Afternoon at the Haikulodeon

     

     


    Here's this week's heap of haikus:

     



    haiku: Tomorrow we will
    borrow burros and ride through
    the City's boroughs.


    ---




    Spider Woman!  I'm
    caught in your web of love and
    it's gettin' sticky.



    ---


    She wore gingham and
    polka dot dresses, which made
    her seem cartoon-ish.
     

    ----



    I am for you and
    hope you are for me. Sit, let's
    break some bread and chat.


    ---

     


    In the corner sat
    a haunted piano, which
    played only lost chords.

     


    ---

     


     A gypsy, cowgirl
    and a hula dancer ... Wait!
    Mother, is that YOU?!


    (A collage made by an artist friend of mine some years back, incorporating some pictures of my mom taken when she was young, dressed as a cowgirl and a gypsy.  My mom always tried to say they were actually photos of her mom ... )


    ---


    .
     
    The weathered rowboat,
    Lodged in the pond's muddy dregs,
    remains moored ... oar-less.



    ---



    "Habit" treads water,
    "Take a risk" goes swimmingly,
    "Indecision" drowns.



    ---


    Ignore clever men
    they can be out-witted. Keep
    your eyes on mad-men.


    ---




    tanka haiku: Sad after shopping,
    young Teddy Roosevelt wished
    that he chose a belt.


      Despite fashion's defenders
      he had bought the suspenders.


    ---




    Each day, there truly
    IS an option. Ask yourself:
    Why NOT happiness?





    ---

     

     

    I find I am old ...
    it's a bit of a surprise.
    I thought I was ripe.
     
     
     
    ---
     
     
    I have been so cold
    I didn't just shiver, I
    would spit ice-cubes.
     
    (for the more explicit version, replace the "p" in spit with an 'h"...)
     
     
     
    ---
     
     
     
    tanka haiku: 
     
    Just one simple thing ...
    Don't forget; feed the dog and...
    walk him twice a day. 
     
       "Wait, isn't that three things? I'll

        feed him. He can walk himself."
     



    ---
     

    Her playing guitar
    pants-less, will, no doubt, lead to
    some sexy strumming.


    ---

     



    The white-capped waves reached
    out with watery fingers
    to capsize the boat.


    ---

     



    The tears of apples
    come from being hurt right
    to the very core.




    (Photograph copyright Kristina Rebelo)

     

    ---



    The angry sunset
    seemed foreboding to all but
    the old sea captain.


     


    (Photograph copyright Kristina Rebelo)

     

    ---
     



    What were they thinking?
    I have stared at this photo
    for years and wondered.


    (These are ancestors of mine.  I'm not sure who they are, because my family has a cherished tradition of not writing the names of people on the backs of old photos.)


    ---
     



    Luscious red peppers
    tumble from the store's display
    right into my cart.



    (Photograph copyright Kristina Rebelo)

     

    ---


     

    A crescent kite pulls
    a water skier o'er an
    autumn lake at dusk.



    (Photograph copyright Kristina Rebelo)

     

    ---


    Before a pinkish-
    purple sky, an old tree asks
    for it's lover's hand.



    (Photograph copyright Kristina Rebelo)

     

    ---
     

     


    Tower of London;
    where you can find graffiti
    from Anne Boleyn's time before Banksy.


    ---

     

    And finally ...



    This weekend in Spondyville, the little town that Time forgot, but Spondylitis remembered  ...  Spondyville's town handyman, "Pops" DeMaupassant, will once again and possibly for the very last time, climb the rickety ladder to the tower high atop the Spondyvile Town Hall and re-set the town clock, which marks the official end of Daylight Savings Time in Spondyville for another year.

    As always, a small crowd will gather across the street in Ankylosinger Square to watch "Pops" perform his task at 2AM on Sunday morning. This loyal group of Spondyville residents will yell encouragement and remind "Pops" to "Fall Back!" (This vocal "reminder" was deemed necessary after the 2001 incident, when "Pops" mistakenly set the clock forward in the fall and back in the spring, thus confusing everyone for the entire year.)

    Tragedy was averted last year, when "Pops" again set the clock forward one hour instead of back. The crowd yelled up to him, "Fall Back, Fall Back!!”, but "Pops", who had come straight from an all-night "Simon Sez" session over at the Senior Center, had a flashback to earlier in the evening, and proceeded to 'fall back' ... off of the ladder. Fortunately, he grabbed the hands of the clock as he fell, which re-set the clock to the proper time. He then had the good sense to hold on until the local EMS unit arrived to pry his hands off the clock and take him to the ER for "observation." (Where the young ER doctor looked at him, rolled his eyes, threw up his hands and sent him home … But never mind that.)

    Hopefully, this weekend, "Pops" will once again remember that the yelling of the crowd refers to what he is supposed to do with the clock and not what to do while on the ladder.

    As per tradition, "Pops" will perform his task while uttering his now famous slogan, "An hour saved is a minute earned sixty times."

    In a concession to the reality that "Pops" just MIGHT be getting a little too old for this job, he has been training his future replacement, Todd Tripzen-Stumbles, a recent graduate of Spondyville High School for the non-performing arts, who will offer his assistance, if needed, and hold the ladder for "Pops". Todd was originally scheduled to make his debut this year, but a torn meniscus he received in last week's season ending ballgame for the Spondyville Fusers made him unable to climb. (FYI - Todd wasn't playing, he was enthusiastically rooting when the accident occurred. )

    For the "100 percenters" in the crowd, (Spondyvilleans who are totally fused), there are, of course, prism binoculars available, donated by the Marie Strumpell Charitable Foundation, which makes it easier to watch Pops' antics atop the ladder. Coffee and crullers will be provided for all by the adjacent Spondy Cafe. Officer Floyd Crimp (aka 'Flatfoot Floyd, the fused fuzz.’ aka 'Officer Crimp, the cop with the limp.'), asks all residents of Spondyville to make sure they toss their uneaten donuts into the "Crullers for Coppers" barrel outside the post office, AND remember to set YOUR clocks back one hour on Saturday night.


    P.S. Todd Tripzen-Stumbles is, of course, the great-grandson of Spondyville pioneer, Andrew Tripzen. As you know, Spondyville's co-founders, Uriah Stoop and Elias Fuselot immortalized their pal, Andrew Tripzen, by naming the cascading waters outside of town, Andy Tripzen Falls.


    Spondyville; Where all the women are stiff, the men are bent over and the children are on anti-inflammatories ...


    ***

    Comments

    Okay this is the third attempt at commenting on your Haiku.

    If the other two show up somehow, I will erase two of the three so forgive me.

     

    When I am alone

    I am not that threatened so much

    A tree in the woods?

     

    When I am alone

    I can do as I feel right

    Not as I am told!

          (hahahahahahhah)

     

    I become angry

    I spend more than I should have

    But there is reward

     

    Sometimes I find Gold

    Fifty bucks helps out

    When sanity fails!

          (hahahahahah)

    I have many dreams

    Is it more prudent to  dream

    Or accept failure.

     

    I must finish this

    If I'm not busy livin

    I'm busy dyin!


    Within a few haikus, you made the transition from Thoreau to Morgan Freeman. Remarkable, DD! 

     


    When I am alone

    I don't think the world exists ...

    but, of course, it does. 

     

    When I am alone

    I am  content to putter

    and accomplish zip.

     

    It is the thought that

    I must rejoin the world that

    gets me off my duff.

     

     


    Light flooding the ground;

    Two ballet dancers arch backs,

    bowing toward the wind.


    I seem to say "Wonderful, moat" a lot ... I'll try to think of a more varied list of superlatives to draw from in the future.  But this one is ... well, you know.

     

    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.

     

     

     


    Poem  says  I miss you

      To a poet I once knew

    She say rhymes aint cool


    Rhymes are like two feet,

    slaves of the emerging beat,

    making words a dance.


    trapped by formula
    so far, for all of my life
    that's a cool response


    Coefficient jig

    Does not break our mothers' back;

    How we hop in time.


     

    making lyrics dance

    is a lovely melody,

    flirting with rhythm.


     

    Who sez rhymes ain't cool?

    To rhyme, I guess, is 'old school'

    To rhyme ain't a crime.

     

     


    Property is theft.

    Pay for understanding things.

    Caveat Emptor.


    When you're in school, you

    pay for understanding things,

    Confused? Stay in school.

     

    Caveat Emptor;

    the way my Latin teacher

    justified his pay.


    PROPERTY IS THEFT?

    Sounds like a communism, but if it is, I am a communism.

    hahahahahah


    Marx contains Hayek

    Babushka doll in a doll.

    To each according.


     

    I have never seen

    Groucho or Selma ever

    wear a babushka.

     

    ---

     

    Those dolls within dolls

    are seen at 'gentlemen's clubs';

    each according, WOW!


    For All Souls Day:

    May all souls be blessed,
    past transgressions forgiven,
    the sick comforted.