MURDER, POLITICS, AND THE END OF THE JAZZ AGE
by Michael Wolraich
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An Extremely Late Friday Afternoon at the Haikulodeon
By MrSmith1 on Fri, 03/28/2014 - 6:20pm |
Here's this week's heap of haikus:
---
Still feels like Winter
All I do is stare at the
flower wallpaper.
---
Wearing a sweatshirt,
I nurse a cup of Joe and
read the New York Times.
---
There is a large crowd,
lined up 'round Tompkins Square Park.
Bread line? Movie Shoot.
---
Clumps of tourists gawk,
in the middle of Times Square
The neon dazzles.
---
His tortured soul found
small measures of contentment
just beyond its reach.
---
When she walked away,
I brought my hands to my face,
to hold in my dreams.
---
A New Yorker in
an Oklahoma dorm room,
soon downs his first Coors.
---
Traffic-clogged streets made
worse by double parked trucks, and
dumb damned dog walkers.
---
She sneezed her dress off
Which caused quite a kerfuffle
in the Library.
---
Alone at Midnight
walking through old neighborhoods
searching for my past.
---
Suddenly, footsteps!
A shadow in the doorway ...
Then, a match is struck.
---
After the rainstorm,
the city's lights shimmered in
street corner puddles
---
double haiku:
An Irish Setter,
gallops through Riverside Park,
greeting each toddler.
His owner just laughs,
reassuring scared nannys,
the dog is friendly.
---
Each day, he walked through
his garden and picked a rose
to place on her grave.
---
Silent are the trees
through harsh winters, stoically,
they wait for the Spring.
---
Swirling embers rise,
riding a smoky breeze, then
die, and fall to earth.
---
Souls forge truth and hope,
while minds dream up fantasies
and hearts search for love.
---
I walked through a field
to get to the main road, and
lost all track of time.
---
Glowings in the sky;
Aurora Borealis ...
looks quite magical.
---
Triple haiku:
Outta Coffee ... D'OH!
Scrounging through kitchen drawers.
Looking for tea bags.
But tea is a sad
substitute for my Java ...
I crave Maxwell House!
And so, resigned, I
put on pants and socks ... and shoes
and walk to ... Starbucks.
---
tanka haiku:
96th Street's ramp
to the West Side Highway is
a thing of beauty.
A tree-lined, curved underpass
with a view of the Hudson.
---
Autumn in New York,
leaves crackle underfoot as
we stroll through the park.
---
A wedge of cheddar
a slice of apple pie and
things are lookin' up.
---
Wistful reminders
of what you mean to me, are
shoved under my bed.
---
Whispering willows,
drive the other trees crazy.
Why can't they speak up?
---
This is the Future
that you dreamed about while you
sat in Study Hall.
---
Good God, she's naked!!
He wasn't often flummoxed,
but this ... well ... gee whiz!
---
Simple Simon met
a pie-man, who'd sold his pies,
Simon sez "Hands up!"
---
My heart lives near the
sycamore and still blossoms
after ev'ry rain.
---
Here is a lesson
to be learned and not forgot;
While music plays, dance.
---
Your world's no larger
than the size of your heart and
the depth of your dreams.
---
If you want the world
to be your oyster, it helps
to know how to shuck.
---
Rivers of flowers
flow through California fields
far as eyes can see.
(Thanks to Kristina Rebelo for the use of her photograph.)
---
Will you shine a light
to help us pierce the darkness?
April's almost here!
- 3286 reads
Comments
Nice. You always brighten my day.
by trkingmomoe on Fri, 03/28/2014 - 8:30pm
As always, a delightful, insightful collection. I don't know how you do this week after week but I'm glad you do!
by Ramona on Fri, 03/28/2014 - 9:23pm
Saw this tonight and thought immediately of you:
https://www.facebook.com/schultz.connie/posts/10152283475355272?
by Ramona on Fri, 03/28/2014 - 10:23pm
Thanks Ramona!! It's funny, I used to tweet all my haikus one by one,. but it just took so much of my time I couldn't keep doing it. I'll try submitting something.
Here's a call for haiku from the NY Times that another friend told me about. I've only submitted one so far, but may try to do more over the weekend. The deadline for this one is April 5th.
by MrSmith1 on Fri, 03/28/2014 - 11:07pm
I miss nursing my
espresso. How best to press?
Good Coffee not there
It is espresso
and not expresso. Haha
Magic in caffeine
Oooooooooooooh, the initial
Initial taste on the tongue
Espresso just rules
There is a whole foods
Store down the street I might pass
From time to time tho
When snow melts and I
Rethink my real existence
I may revisit
There is something true
About a real espresso
Just so you might know
I have no idea what this means except that Now, I feel a real need for a real espresso with a cig and it is all your damn fault. And this Beatles' song is just for fun! I don't even know if the haiku syllable count is right here. hahaha
hahahah
by Richard Day on Sat, 03/29/2014 - 2:33am
My first landlord in
New York was named Guisseppi.
He loved Bustelo.
He was a tailor
in a Long Island City
men's suit factory.
He would tune in to
Op'ra on radio and
soccer on TV.
He drank espresso;
Bustelo espresso and
Artichoke liqueur.
He was my landlord
for over 20 years. We
would communicate
through hand gestures for
he spoke little English and
I, no Italian.
On late Summer nights
he'd bring me tomatoes from
his backyard garden.
Sometimes we would sit
jn lawn chairs in the garden
And drink espresso.
It wsa too bitter
for my taste, but not for his.
He loved espresso.
---
by MrSmith1 on Sat, 03/29/2014 - 3:24am
Clouds of tourists clump
over wet streets in Times Square;
The neon drizzles.
These years in orbit
around my only planet
make for a full moon.
Dog chases the stick,
Returning it to be thrown;
A language game.
by moat on Sun, 03/30/2014 - 4:10pm
Ha ha ha! Wonderful, moat!
A dog that sticks to
chasing rather than chasing
sticks, has learned something.
---
In a rocket ship
orbiting the planet, I
photograph the moon,
---
by MrSmith1 on Sun, 03/30/2014 - 4:27pm