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

    A Jittery Friday Afternoon at the Haikulodeon

     

     

     

     

    Here's this week's heap of haikus:

     

     

     

    South wind, cloudy sky
    the ever present mountain
    never once asks why.

     

     

     

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    Waiting patiently
    for the next train to depart,
    I sip a soda.

     

     

     

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    Her fragrance remained
    long after she'd disappeared ...
    lingering allure.

     

     

     

     

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    The setting sun sinks
    into the ocean, stealing
    all joy from the sky.

     

     

     


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    Aided by a breeze,
    a cardboard cup strolls along
    West End Avenue.

     

     

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    Tompkins Square Park in
    the Summer, trees in full bloom
    an urban jungle.

     

     

     

     

     

     

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    Not shocking that from
    inadvertent parents comes
    an obvious child.

     

     

     

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    tanka haiku:

     

    You have long endured
    both hardships and heartbreaks and
    yet, you wish for more.

    For you think that happiness
    is paid for by misery.

     

     

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    tanka haiku:

     

    Curious ... Have you
    ever seen a mailman that
    likes to stamp his feet?

       Is he footing the bill, or
       just pushing the envelope?

     

     

     

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    She ran down the street,
    with tears streaming down her face,
    dogs nipping her heels.

     

     

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    Seldom will you see
    a second thought that dances
    in the morning breeze.
    -

     

     

     

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    Sometimes an echo
    from a life you left behind,
    will catch up to you.

     

     


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    tanka haiku:

    Crowded Conveyance;
    Two women, a dog, a bike,
    a small child and me.

       Crammed in an elevator
       Waiting for the thing to go.

     

     


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    Hey, what Time is it?
    Twenty-five (or six) to Four ...
    or at least One hopes.

     

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    The clouds were backlit
    like a Maxfield Parrish sky
    The nymph was naked.

     


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    Pertinent scrawls on
    university walls are
    art ... to some degree.


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    If you feel you've been
    thrashed, trashed or stashed away
    don't sashay all day.

     

     


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    Sometimes you just have
    to take a deep breathe and blow
    the roof off the dump.

     

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    tanka haiku:

     

    On Omaha Beach,
    the allied forces changed the
    world as we know it.

    After 72 years,
    what was done there.still awes us.

     

     

    ( June 6th, was the 72nd anniversary of the D-Day invasion. )

     

     

     

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    A lovingly made
    parody can make you laugh
    and then make you cry.

    (This is just an excuse to post this song from the movie, "A Mighty Wind", Christopher Guest's mockumentary on Folk Music.  It just makes me laugh.  The parody is so good, so lovingly recreates and pays homage to the genre, that it makes me smile every time.  The Soundtrack album was so good, in fact, it won a Grammy and one of the songs was nominated for, (and should have won), an Oscar. )


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    Comments

    More lay dead.  Dying.

    Stench seems sweeter this time ‘round;

    scent of normalcy.

     

    Look away.  Living.

    Breath is easier to catch;

    breeze of complacence.

     

    Scape the goat.  Lying.

    Tasting vengeance on the tongue;

    buds of extinction.


    Well done, Missy!  Thank you.


    Perfect, barefooted.