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

    A Flimsily Funny Friday Afternoon at the Haikulodeon

     

     

     
    This week's heap of haikus:
     
     
     
    tanka haiku: Nearly Sixty-two,
    I shouldn't feel so lost and
    all alone in Life.

    I know, I'm not alone ... nor
    lost, but feelings still can feel.
     

     

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    She was sick in bed,
    but she grinned when her mom brought
    waffles for breakfast.
     
     
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    ha-ha-ha-ku: Warning! Beware of
    a Lackluster haiku-ster!
    Each word'll curdle ...
     

     

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    Overdue haircut,
    Wearing a green paisley shirt,
    Diff'rent path taken.
     

     

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    A wellspring of joy,
    lies within each of our hearts,
    waiting to be tapped.
     
     
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    1950's-ku: Being grown-up meant
    a clean, folded handkerchief
    in your breast pocket.
     
     
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    His Little League team
    was sponsored by a pie shop,
    which liked the rhubarbs.
     

     

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    On a shady lane,
    there lived a lonely girl that
    dreamed of love fulfilled.
     

     

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    Cats and melon balls,
    a recipe for hi-jinks ...
    and some sticky cats.
     

     

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    Try imagining,
    That strangers you encounter,
    Are friends from past lives
    .
     

     

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    What, she asked, is Hope?
    Hope's the thing that blossoms,
    From seeds of despair.
     

     

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    She laughed wickedly.
    Such a chill went up his spine,
    that he sneezed ice cubes.
     

     

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    The last fifty years
    will be known as the time when,
    up was sold as down.
     

     

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    Child Labor laws, and
    Forty hour work weeks. Like 'em?
    Thank the union folks.
     

     

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    The smell of incense,
    beaded curtains, black-light art,
    Hippies still exist!
     

     

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    In our old backyard,
    some nights, we'd play baseball. The
    tree was second base.
     

     

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    don't resist urges
    from impulse or desire ...
    they will point the way.
     

     

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    Like sails on schooners,
    the bed sheets billowed, while pinned
    to my mom's clothesline.
     
     
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    Of the many truths,
    all come down to just one fact;
    you can't hide from cats.
     

     

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    A freshly waxed floor,
    an over-eager puppy ...
    hilarity ensues.
     

     

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    A Winter's kindness.
    Kindling gathered, I light
    small fires of hope.
     

     

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    My friends ... Dignity
    is something you can't obtain,
    you ca
    n only have ...
     

     

     
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    tanka haiku: I support your cause,
    but don't make me re-commit
    ev'ry single day.

    I have strength to see things through,
    without constant Facebook "pokes."
     

     

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    They started even,
    but they can't say who won; they
    had diff'rent goal-lines.
     
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    If you think "Life Stinks",
    You're wrong. Life is fine. It is
    Consciousness that stinks.

     

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    An animated video for my latest AS Awareness Project: How Many Spondys - A Visual Demonstration. For more info: www.HowManySpondys.com

     

     

     
     

     

    Comments

    Consciousness is one of those words that wander the land like a philosopher looking for an honest man. 

    The spark may not take.

    Despite all earnest efforts,

    Rain postpones the fire.

     


     

    Rain postpones the fire... Nice image, moat.