MURDER, POLITICS, AND THE END OF THE JAZZ AGE
by Michael Wolraich
Order today at Barnes & Noble / Amazon / Books-A-Million / Bookshop
MURDER, POLITICS, AND THE END OF THE JAZZ AGE by Michael Wolraich Order today at Barnes & Noble / Amazon / Books-A-Million / Bookshop |
Here's this week's heap of haikus:
Flowery bouquets,
made the room seem less dreary.
and soaked up her tears.
---
There’s a twilight time
between dusk and eve’ning that
nurtures reflection.
---
Double haiku:
My world has shifted.
I'm now, sadly, no-one’s son.
Who will hold me now?
And so, another
Mothers' Day will go by with
only memories..
(Happy Mothers' Day this Sunday to all you mothers out there!)
---
Through fields of flowers
this iron engine still rolls;
attractive tractor.
---
Loose litter swirling
through the canyons of midtown;
Urban tumbleweeds.
---
The sign was quite clear:
"Don't Park Horses Here" So I
tethered my Buick.
---
Reluctant Winter
took its time to arrive, and
now delays Spring blooms.
---
The shape of her feet
were somewhat unusual;
(They point East and West.)
---
Against cloud-less skies,
tractor-trains of children ride
through flags of flowers
---
Even a black crow
can not fight the urge to stop
and smell the flowers.
---
double haiku:
I have a doc named
Jesse. He's seventy-six.
Which seems odd to me.
It's not that he's old,
it's just that his name makes me
think he's much younger.
---
‘midst purple flowers,
a hummingbird suspended
in mid-air … awesome.
---
Things I saw today;
2 year olds wearing hoodies,
old men without canes.
---
Squirming, squealing kids,
make life a living … heaven.
Don’t they? Sure, moms know …
---
He grabbed the railing
when his cane hit a wet spot;
he'd started to fall.
---
Caught in the downpour
without an umbrella, he
stepped in a puddle.
---
A tangerine sky,
clouds that haunt the horizon,
lure me towards night.
---
tanka haiku: Those that can not deal
with their friend’s adversities,
fear their own weakness.
But smooth sailing weakens sailors
while stormy weather breeds strength.
---
double haiku:
Where are we going?
What direction will we head?
Will we stop for snacks?
I can’t believe it.
Are we there yet? You’re Kidding.
We haven’t left yet.
---
Windows to our souls,
eyes behold the world, but our
minds create vision.
---
A humid morning.
Across the street, some workers
sip coffee and smoke.
---
Scampering puppies,
can’t get traction on wet grass.
Bunnies hop away.
---
His hum-drum life had
hum-drum relationships and
even hum-drum drums.
---
I knock. No-one’s home.
I post a note on the door;
‘Sorry ’bout your tree.’
---
He had tried so hard
to always do what was right,
there was nothing left.
---
At the Dew Drop Inn,
the dude dropped out; then logged in,
but he soon passed out.
---
Deep in the forest,
patches of stippled sunlight,
warm a leaf-strewn trail.
---
When he needed help,
he knew who to call, and who
didn’t want to know.
---
Any given day,
swirling leaves will seem confused
by the winds of change.
---
My heart belongs to
you, my sweet, and no-one else.
Hand me the remote.
---
Their Pre-War building
stands in stark contrast to the
soul-less skyscrapers.
---
A ladybug clings
to my sleeve. I take her to
visit my garden.
---
Stripped of their colors,
flowers seem like structural
wonders of nature
---
Quote of the Day:
"When we long for life without difficulties, remind us that oaks grow
strong in contrary winds and diamonds are made under pressure."
- Scottish clergyman P. Marshall - 1902-1949
---
( From the 2012 Best Medicine Night of Comedy event. )
Comments
Stripped of their colors,
flowers seem like structural
wonders of nature
Another poppy, pic taken by kid #1 a few years ago.
by wabby on Fri, 05/09/2014 - 5:14pm
Beautiful Flowerchild! And bravo to kid #1!
by MrSmith1 on Fri, 05/09/2014 - 6:28pm
I have no poetry in my life lately.
My soul must have been taken.
But I found this at Salon:
WHAT IS IRONY?
3. A state of affairs or an event that seems deliberately contrary to what was or might be expected; an outcome cruelly, humorously, or strangely at odds with assumptions or expectations.
An old man turned ninety-eight
He won the lottery and died the next day
It’s a black fly in your Chardonnay
It’s a death row pardon two minutes too late
And isn’t it ironic… don’t you think?
by Richard Day on Sat, 05/10/2014 - 3:41pm
I refuse to believe there is no poetry in your life, DD. Perhaps it's just blank verse. In which case, try holding it over your toaster and maybe the secret message / poem will appear. Poetry surrounds us, we just don't always see how it all rhymes. ;-)
If my soul's taken
before I should awaken,
am I forsaken?
---
Irony they say,
a fly in your Chardonnay,
doing the breaststroke.
.
by MrSmith1 on Sat, 05/10/2014 - 4:44pm
He left what was done
to see if it would return:
Testing the system.
Cutting to a line;
close without erasing it
is the skill itself.
by moat on Sat, 05/10/2014 - 10:10pm
Excellent, moat!
Sure, he let it go
to see if it would return ...
( its not been seen since.)
---
Without erasing
can you ever truly start
all over again?
---
by MrSmith1 on Sat, 05/10/2014 - 11:31pm