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

Finally, a Finely Fried Friday Afternoon at the Haikulodeon

 


Here's this week's heap of haikus:

 


In that 'long ago',
all of us are ever young ...
never more alive.

 


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First, you find a place
to rest your weary soul, then
applaud your journey.

 


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There is happiness
and when there's happiness, it's
undeniable.


 


---

 

Autumn at the beach;
looks like a picture postcard.
Vibrant hues, cool temps.

 

(Photo courtesy Kristina Rebelo)

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When uncertain, he
will look to you for guidance.
Offer steady hands.

 

 

(Photo courtesy Kristina Rebelo)

 

 

 

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Ah, the autumn leaves,
that drift gently to the ground,
blanketing the lawn.

 

 


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Pillow fights online ...
debating philosophy ...
both get you nowhere

 

 

 

 


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Silhouettes of trees
turn my river view into
a jigsaw puzzle.

 

 


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A quartet of haikus:

 

After all these years,
I still haunt the lost and found,
looking for my life.

I still ride the train,
in hope the next station will
be where I get off.

I cross bridges knowing
I can not wash away all
the sins of my life.

I am stuck in time
living out a meager life
extracting fool's gold.

 

 

 


---

 

 

 


Walking the shoreline,
the fog envelopes me and
the ocean inspires.

 

 

 

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Delicate flowers,
Battered by the wind and rain,
Petals on the ground.

 

 

 

 

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Do you fight the wind?
Do you swim against the tide?
Worlds turn, why won't you?

 

 

 

 

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The leaves drifting down,
Make a carpet on the lawn,
For kids to romp through.

 

 

 

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Sad when Summer ends,
and the school year starts anew ...
said no mom ever.

 

 

 


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Mother Nature sends
an eviction notice and
the foliage leaves.

 

 

 

 

 

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Regrets at sunset,
never fully wipe away,
the sins of the day.

 

---

 


 

 


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When you are taken
out of your routine; rethink,
resolve, then re-set.

 

 

 


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Geisha on a bridge,
watches the swans, then hurries
off to serve the tea.
 

 

 

---
 

 

 

 


Toy soldiers remain
lying in the lawn; battle
called due to bedtime.
 

 

---

 

 


 

There’s a twilight time
between dusk and eve’ning that
nurtures reflection.
 

 

 

 

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tanka haiku:

 

Perusing the hall,
he picked out a girl and tried
to make eye contact.
 
  At first, she acted shy ... then,
  she slowly ... drew him to her.

 

 


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To live without love
is to whisper to angels
and yet, be ignored.

 

 


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Some people say that
Naked Gondoliers are what
made Venetians blind.

 

 

 

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An incoming tide,
coral clouds at sunrise ... all
of our Hopes reborn.

 

 

 

 

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A doormat thrown in
the trashcan has probably
worn out its welcome.

 

 

 

 


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They say that I am
hopelessly optimistic ...
I just hope they're right.

 

 


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The lush foliage
of autumn, clings to trees like
those dots of Seurat's

.


---

 

 

 

 


Bleeding hearts mixed with
bloody ignorance will soon
need a transfusion.

 

 

 

 

 

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 tanka haiku:


 
From the cab of his
pickup, he could see grey smoke
rise from the chimney.

It was nearly sunrise and
he could not wait for coffee.

 

 

 

 

---

 

 


 

We drove through the night
to see the fall foliage
mirrored in the lake.

 

 

 

 

 

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a lonely road weaves
through a dark forest. My soul
tries not to linger.

 

 

 


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If the sky is blue,
and the grass always greener,
more books should be read.

 

 

 

---

 

 

 

 

 

Won't you have some tea?
I'll sit here eating biscuits
watching boats pass by.

 

James Tissot (French, 1836–1902) | Tea | 1872

 

 

 

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Collapsed in a heap,
and yet ... she watches closely
as suitors stalk her.

 

"The Green Cushion" ca.1895 by Irving Ramsey Wiles (1861-1948)

 

 

 

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His trousers are gone ...
her dress hangs from a flagpole ...
That was some party.


---

 


 


---

 


Do you wonder why
all day long, you walk on air?
My friend, you're in Love.

 

 


****

 

 

 

Comments

Forgot to add these two:

A red moon rises
in the sky above D.C.
the Capitol gains.
 
---
 
A red moon will rise
o'er a House divided and
illuminate hope.
 

Squirrel on my ledge

A chilly rain is extant

Squirrel seeks my help.

hahahah

He looks at me such

But my screen is stuck; no food

No food for rodent

He is just shaking

I can give him no relief

He's there for an hour

Or more?

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

A few years ago

I found myself at the store

But the little store

Too lazy for super store

There is this lady

Retarded she was

Both In brain and in her soul

And she snucked past me

Her aim was for food

For frozen breakfast dinners

She grabbed six of these

The matron said no

I felt so bad then

Her account was down under

The end of the month

I was short this time

I was floating a bad check

I did not help her

Three years later I

Am ashamed I gave no help

To this waif; losted

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

 

I have been thinking about this waif for sometime. And like the squirrel, I was of no help.

What is a mother to do.

Happy Fall Mr. Smith!

the end


Excellent, DD!!

 

You can not end the
persistence of suffering
only appease it,

    That it still will annoy us
     is what gives us bright futures.

 

---


A disproportion
between promise and event
is the potato.


Ha!  Good one, moat!

 

Is the potato
a metaphor or a plant?
I bake for tubers.

 

 


E'vry now and then

A small thought crosses my mind:

How am I today?

  Luckily, my answer is

  most often incoherent.

 


Excellent, Missy!!  

(Are you trying to confuse me by posting this here?  LOL)

How am I today?
How was I yesterday? What
hope for tomorrow?


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