MURDER, POLITICS, AND THE END OF THE JAZZ AGE
by Michael Wolraich
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Even more of the seemingly unending stream of haikus for a Friday afternoon.
By MrSmith1 on Fri, 09/23/2011 - 1:57pm |
Bonus: A poem I wrote in 2004 dedicated to my fellow 'Spondys' and by extension, all who deal with a chronic illness:
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There is a moment, after they tell you,
That you have an incurable, chronic degenerative disease,
That you feel all alone,
That you ARE all alone,
That you are the only one that you know that has to deal with something so huge,
so formidible, so difficult, so challenging and utterly life-changing.
There is a moment, after they tell you, that everything will be okay,
That you feel they are lying, that your life is now definitely and completely over,
and that no-one understands or knows the full extent of what you have lost.
We do. We who have what you have. We who've lost what you've lost.
We who feel the pain that you feel. We who struggle with what you struggle with.
We're fighting to keep our lives from becoming less than what we dreamed they would be before all this.
And we're scared that we are losing the fight.
We know. We know the fear of unknown disability and uncertain futures.
We know how what you thought you were is no longer how you are.
We know how hard life has become in more ways than anyone else can possibly know.
We know. We are a miracle in your life.
We are the vindication that you are not alone, that you are understood by someone.
We are your reassurance that despite it all, you can make it through the difficult times. We are your mirror and your sounding board.
We are your miracle.
We are not alone, we are united in our understanding.
We are each other's insistence that we can carry on, that giving up is not an option.
We are each other's lesson that our lives still have worth and can continue on, striving to learn and then reaching out to teach, in an unending cycle of giving and receiving.
When you sink into despair, and think the worst,
We know. We have too.
We know all the levels of Hell that there are to know.
Just as you know them.
We are your miracle.
We will steady you, so you don't fall, help you learn to cope and shed real tears for your pain, which is the pain we, ourselves know all too well.
There is a moment, sometimes long after they tell you that you have an incurable, chronic degenerative disease, that you come to know that you are still you and that despite it all, you are going to be all right.
We are each other's miracle.
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c M. Smith
- 4061 reads
Comments
Thanks.
One brings back an image so clearly from decades ago. Revised.
Piles of raked leaves
idled in the yard. Sis and I
laid out a new house.
by Oxy Mora on Fri, 09/23/2011 - 3:29pm
Wonderful.
I used to play a game with some writer friends; one of us would write a haiku, then pass it on and the next person would have to write a haiku using one of the lines from the previous haiku and pass it on, etc. We tried to see how long we could keep the thread going, sending haikus back and forth. It was like a haiku version of 'telephone', by changing one line at a time, it was always fun to see how far we could split off from the original thought.
by MrSmith1 on Fri, 09/23/2011 - 3:30pm
Thanks. The telephone haiku game sounds like fun.
That's the thing about poetry. It goes right to the subconscious. I hadn't thought of that image with my sister for a very long time.
Thanks for writing and sharing these. I really enjoy them.
by Oxy Mora on Fri, 09/23/2011 - 3:36pm
Why must the Good Lord
Give us the gift to see us
For what we have been
Santorum really
Wants to suck some corp dick
We all can tell that
Perry already has
Sucked some really big corp dicks
Enjoying each one
Bachmann seeks to hide
Truth she doesn't even know
Facts are too costly
How much time do we
Have to follow up on things
With no real reward?
Romney has no soul
Though Morman he contends is
His true religion
Paul would have us hide
In a pupa feigning birth
As a real virgin
Newt would have us think
That he is a real thinker
But he is just lame
No one is more lame
Than Cain who is a real joke
He shall make money
I am no good at this but I was listening to Dylan
And if you play with the lines; if you listen to his
words with his background music; I think you can hear
his haiku! Or a pattern akin.
by Richard Day on Fri, 09/23/2011 - 5:39pm
In the musical, 'Pacific Overtures', Sondheim wrote a song about two Japanese men playing a game of composing haikus. The song structure gives the feel of haikus, if not the actual syllable count.
by MrSmith1 on Fri, 09/23/2011 - 11:14pm
There is a haiku dynamic in Jim Morrison's Love Street.
There is a five syllable line followed by a six, followed by a seven, followed by an eight:
She lives on Love Street,
Lingers long on Love Street,
She has a house and garden,
I would like to see what happens.
Many of the other lines are sevens and there are seven La La La La La La Las. Since the song doesn't actually end, he never gets back to five.
by moat on Sun, 09/25/2011 - 9:44pm
The Doors seemed to write a lot of unusually structured songs. But they made them work, so I guess that's all that matters.
Here's one for you, that just came to me:
Open or cross it,
Rhyme it with float, boat or coat,
Still, the point is moat.
by MrSmith1 on Sun, 09/25/2011 - 11:22pm
I resemble that remark. :-]
I am glad the rhymes were not shoot, loot, or flute.
by moat on Mon, 09/26/2011 - 8:46pm
Then you'd be moot.
by Donal on Tue, 09/27/2011 - 7:54am
and a hoot to boot.
by MrSmith1 on Tue, 09/27/2011 - 9:40am
This is no preview.
I got in line for popcorn;
What was I thinking?
by moat on Wed, 09/28/2011 - 9:33pm
No preview? That stinks!
But then, so did the movie,
Everything's re-makes.
by MrSmith1 on Wed, 09/28/2011 - 11:11pm