MURDER, POLITICS, AND THE END OF THE JAZZ AGE
by Michael Wolraich
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A Kerouac-ack-ack Friday Afternoon at the Haikulodeon
By MrSmith1 on Fri, 08/21/2015 - 2:02pm |
Here's this week's heap of haikus:
Jack Kerouac - American Haiku
I found this other day on YouTube. It is beat poet and novelist Jack Kerouac reading his own haiku with little bits of Jazz music in between each one. His haikus are mostly free form; they don't, for the most part, stick to the 5-7-5 format. Sooo ... I went and picked out lines from his haikus that were either 5 or 7 syllables long and played the haiku game with them. Here's the results:
---
"Hi", cooed Kerouac,
"come and take a ride with me,
on the road again."
Behind my razor
in my medicine cab'net,
lies an old toothbrush.
---
Drunk and bewildered ...
Well, here I am, 2 PM.
Heck, what day is it?
---
Carefully place your
beads on the Holy Book and
pray God intervenes.
---
In the morning frost,
The cats step slowly,
anticipating ...
---
A long Saturday,
raking the leaves in the yard,
Only more leaves fell.
---
Water seeping in
the bottoms of my shoes
walking through puddles.
---
meeting new neighbors,
holding up my purring cat
to show it's friendly.
---
Telegram today
Urgent news from overseas
Will he? Won't she? Stop.
---
Barking at heaven
at dawn on a Sunday morn,
is hell on the nerves
---
Uncle Jack sat, as
Drunk as a hoot owl, and tried
to count his fingers.
---
Working in the field
all day long wearing a hat
my hair gets matted.
---
the piazza is
full of aging young couples
flirting with hope.
---
Coming home from work,
passing the football field, I
think of homecoming.
---
Slowly, the worker
lowers himself from the roof,
and packs up his gear.
---
I seldom recall
the drunkards of Mexico
and neither they, me.
---
Sun shines through the trees
a boy smashing dandelions
dogs chasing rabbits.
---
In my camp tent, I
write letters by thunderstorm ...
eat peanut butter.
---
Useless, useless rain.
Already watered the lawn.
Now it's redundant.
---
Clothes hang on the line
a bird thrashing in the bath,
two squirrels climbing trees.
---
Man with a remote.
Children playing with their toys.
Woman with a cat.
(Fernand Léger - 1921 - Woman with a cat.)
---
When falling into
a burning ring of fire, the
fault's in your desire.
---
Amidst the cattails,
and languorous in repose,
a fairy lingers ...
( by Alphonse Mucha approx. 1920)
---
Tiny hummingbirds
hover near passion flowers
to pass on passion.
Martin Johnson Heade (1819–1904) | Hummingbird and Passion flowers | ca. 1875–85
---
before-and-after-ku:
A triangle of
tranquility sails the sea
'neath darkening skies.
-
Shafts of golden light,
signaled we'd weathered the storm,
so, we headed home.
(Photograph courtesy Kristina Rebelo)
---
To be committed
is to fly through each sunset
in search of the dawn.
(Photograph courtesy Kristina Rebelo)
---
A glorious day
shines through my window shades,and
all my fears grow weak.
---
Written in margins
of forgotten manuscripts,
lies many a truth.
---
Some flowering quince
brighten up my room, while they
tease my sinuses.
---
Like a garden rose,
the nurse showed up one morning
and pricked my finger.
---
His leather briefcase
was left in a Greek diner
on Twenty-third Street.
---
Pancakes for dinner ...
because I'm an adult and
I'll do what I want.
---
The ice machine's broke!
Damn cheap motel in Flagstaff ...
I'm drinkin' warm beer.
****
- 12519 reads
Comments
Hey, Smith. What a great creative exercise and so well done. Excellent.
I slept in my car
A pizza box the pillow
Weekends never end.
by Oxy Mora on Fri, 08/21/2015 - 11:33pm
Thanks, Oxy! Good one!
Weekends never end,
The beer's free and sex sublime ...
I know, in my dreams.
by MrSmith1 on Sat, 08/22/2015 - 1:56am
Pancakes are always good for dinner.
I enjoyed it.
by trkingmomoe on Sat, 08/22/2015 - 1:39am
I got caught in a rain storm today, for the first time in I can't remember how long. It was marvelous! On my daily walkabout, I noticed the dark clouds but didn't much care since they had been teasing all day and had yet to produce anything. Besides, there was no lightning or rolling thunder to cause particular concern - and rain isn't dangerous to those who don't melt.
I'd barely broken a good sweat in the 86 degree, 83% humidity oven when the first drops fell ... about a half mile from home. Just ahead was my usual turn to continue on my path, and I wondered whether to go on or head straight to my door when the clouds popped. All at once, all of a sudden, all the way. BOOM! I swear I was soaked to the bone in under 10 seconds.
They were big, fat, sloppy drops that fell so hard and fast they bounced off the ground. Straight down; no wind to carry them or delay their intensity, nothing to stop the instantaneous flooding when they landed. Collectively the drops became a roaring torrent of sound - powerfully beating and pulsing in a symphony of rain. Mother Nature giving back.
I didn't change my easy-going pace, I walked as though the sun was still baking my shoulders. Tossed off my flip-flops and casually splashed barefooted through the storm, thoroughly engaged in the experience. It was absolutely the best therapy I can imagine ... nothing else, in those minutes, mattered.
by barefooted on Sat, 08/22/2015 - 2:42am
Wonderful, Missy! What a lovely experience. (A nice bit of writing, too.)
45 years ago this Summer, I was in South Korea on a USO tour. When we first got there, the Captain who was our guide told us about the Monsoon ... We laughed and thought not much of it ... until the next day when, suddenly, almost to the minute the Captain predicted, the rain began. An intense, serious downpour. My troupe was in our barracks and we all came out and stood in the pouring rain, laughing and splashing about. Then, just as suddenly, the rain stopped. The sun came back out and it was as if nothing had happened, except we were all thoroughly soaked. From then on, we all waited for the daily downpour before making plans.
by MrSmith1 on Sat, 08/22/2015 - 5:48am
by PeraclesPlease on Sat, 08/22/2015 - 10:59am
HA! Peracles, you're a natural-born beat poet. We need to get you into that DeLorean so you can go back and fulfill your beatnik destiny.
by MrSmith1 on Sat, 08/22/2015 - 11:21am
by PeraclesPlease on Sat, 08/22/2015 - 11:55am
Yeah, but you make Nick Danger, Ralph Spoilsport and George Tirebiter proud.
by MrSmith1 on Sat, 08/22/2015 - 12:12pm
by PeraclesPlease on Sat, 08/22/2015 - 2:30pm
Betty Jo? That girl's got a balcony you could do Shakespeare from ... Shoes for Industry!
by MrSmith1 on Sat, 08/22/2015 - 4:40pm
I can smell the weed in North Beach. Good one, Peracles.
by Oxy Mora on Sat, 08/22/2015 - 11:55am
by PeraclesPlease on Sat, 08/22/2015 - 2:37pm
T'was monsoon season,
and innocent tourists were
in for a surprise.
Strolling in the sun
became a dash for shelter
when the skies opened.
But those who were caught
beneath the torrents of rain
found themselves laughing.
When others questioned,
the happily drenched answered,
"It's Monsoon Madness!"
by barefooted on Sat, 08/22/2015 - 7:53pm
Ha! Excellent, Missy!!
by MrSmith1 on Sat, 08/22/2015 - 9:57pm
Just great writing, barefooted. More, please.
by Oxy Mora on Sat, 08/22/2015 - 11:46am
Thanks, Oxy. Sometimes it's nice just to write about a normal experience we've all likely had, and not worry whether it's too insignificant. Slices of life, as they say, that bind us in the little ways that serve to remind us that we're not always in conflict. After all ... there's really nothing like getting caught in the rain to wash away self importance! Whether you're wearing designer clothes or hand-me-downs, you're still wet.
And I'm always happy to have Mr. Smith's spot in which to plant my meandering thoughts. A priceless thing indeed.
by barefooted on Sat, 08/22/2015 - 8:17pm
I didn't know where else to post this ... An old friend sent me this ... A song about Donald Trump's hair:
by MrSmith1 on Mon, 08/24/2015 - 3:55pm
Once upon a time
a father had a son, then
documented love.
by barefooted on Thu, 08/27/2015 - 12:30am
Once upon a time and a very good time it was there was a haiku coming down along the road and this hicow that was coming down along the road met a nicens little boy named baby haikoo... Oh shit, Joyce just ran over his meter again, didn't he? Bad, James, bad - you keep up like this and you'll one day fill an Encyclopedia-sized book with this rubbish...
by PeraclesPlease on Thu, 08/27/2015 - 8:11am
James Joyce had no choice,
baby wanders Nighttown and
cries, "Haiku-chee-ku."
by MrSmith1 on Thu, 08/27/2015 - 12:12pm
Sweet. Thanks for this, Missy!
by MrSmith1 on Thu, 08/27/2015 - 12:04pm