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

    Another Sunny Friday Afternoon at the Haikulodeon

     

     

    Here's this week's heap of haikus:
     



    Today-in-NYC-ku:



    Delicately placed
    atop a four-ton dumpster;
    a styrofoam cup.


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    Old NYC-ku:

    The man on the right
    is rushing to McSorley's
    for a pint of ale.

    (Cooper Square - 1899 looking North)

     


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    tanka haiku: We're eyewitnesses
    to an extr'ordinary
    parade of events.

    As embedded reporters,
    we share our 'news' with others.


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    Sometime in your Life,
    you've fascinated someone ...
    other than your mom.


     


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    Carefully follow
    the path through the irises ...
    serenity waits.



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



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    He once walked two miles
    through the wind and pouring rain
    just to hear her laugh.


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


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    As a precaution,
    I wrap my arms around her,
    then share the sad news.


     


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    Two glasses sit on
    an old oak table, emptied
    of kumquat liqueur.


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    Take a chance, today.
    Put your fears aside and LEAP
    into the unknown.


     


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    The clouds in the sky
    slowly drift by. Lazily,
    I sit and watch them.


     


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    He's considered dull,
    just muddling through Life, yet
    his heart slays dragons.



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    A moonlit whisper,
    two lovers in silhouette;
    urgent affection.

     



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


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     Van Gogh said they are
    olive trees ... They look more like
    broccoli to me.




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    In Grandma's parlor,
    quiet domesticity ...
    and a sleeping cat.



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    He was raised by wolves,
    but tutored by nightingales ...
    so he howls on key.


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    T'was way too early,
    to come to a conclusion,
    so, he simply guessed.


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    A dark, grey morning
    Serious people crowd me ...
    I can't help but laugh.


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     Armistice Day-ku:


    On the eleventh
    Month, day and hour - at long last,
    the guns fell silent.


    (Pictured: The Spondyville mascot, Stiffy the Snowspondy, visiting the Anglo-Belgian War Memorial in Brussels a few years back, to pay tribute to all the fallen heroes of WWI.)

     

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    Why-does-a-chicken-ku:


    Psychics help chickens
    to get to the other side.
    Spooky Poultry-geists?




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    Pasta-ku: Mom threw confetti;
    her children were ready to
    eat their spaghetti.


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    His independence
    did not preclude reliance
    on friends and fam'ly.



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    The world does not need
    improving. It is perfect.
    How we hold it? Oy.



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    Comments

    My National Guard Unit went to Belgium in Dec, 1989.  I remember that wall in Brussels.