MURDER, POLITICS, AND THE END OF THE JAZZ AGE
by Michael Wolraich
|
|
A Pre-Super Friday Afternoon at the Haikulodeon
By MrSmith1 on Fri, 01/30/2015 - 1:44pm |
Here’s this week’s heap of haikus:
Rod McKuen's died.
All Jean would say is that he
couldn't sing either.
(Just kidding – RIP Rod McKuen )
---
Those little evils
buried in our souls, may smile,
in spite of themselves.
---
I yearn for Spring, when
lilacs in the front yard bloom
and eager hearts melt.
(Photo courtesy Kristina Rebelo)
---
With each sunrise,
the dramas of Life resume
and we step onstage.
---
Diner-ku:
Short stack of pancakes,
coffee on the side ... Eat. Drink.
Pay the tab and go.
--
Waveland Motel is
where Queen Elizabeth meets
Miss America.
(photo courtesy Tom Contrino)
--
tanka haiku: When snow turns to ice,
and bitter winds sting my face,
I think of baseball.
For Spring gets ever closer
and umps soon will shout, "Play Ball!"
---
Though fragile hearts need
whispered blessings, they also
need a steady hand.
---
Despite majestic
morns and lazy afternoons ...
All days end in fire.
---
Resting in the shade,
young men tried to make sense of
the horrors of war.
(Japanese shelter)
( Japanese warehouse )
(Chopped up trees after the battle)
The battle of Kwajalein Island began 71 years ago (January 31, 1944.)
My dad was there and took these photos.
---
Fitful nights will end.
Sleep will overtake sadness.
Things will be alright.
---
Lying in a field,
my ancestors looked at clouds
and dreamt of my life.
---
What you are drawn to,
has within it, the lesson
that you need to learn.
---
Dimly lit streetlamps
dot a snowy path that winds
through Riverside Park.
---
Silhouettes of trees
turn my river view into
a jigsaw puzzle.
---
Don't resist urges ...
impulsive desires will
often point the way.
---
My heart imagines
your passionate love for me,
How long must I dream?
---
Oh my dear sweet love,
when you're near me, my heart leaps
and I'm filled with joy!
---
His heart had grown old,
his spirit, weak and flagging,
Love had shut its door.
---
T'was love at first sight,
First, he tickled her fancy,
And then, so much more.
---
Since the day we met,
the creases formed by your smile,
haved lived in my thoughts.
---
Two hearts beat as one ...
which begs the question; How high
is their blood pressure?
---
A sincere heart is,
more likely to change the world,
than a reasoned thought.
---
A downtown cafe ...
lovers cuddle in a booth,
and share their dessert.
---
Outside my window,
furious snowflakes mingle,
fearful pigeons roost.
---
When you are away,
I sit and stir my soup and
listen to sad songs.
---
There is an old tree
that knows my heartaches and has
heard my confessions.
****
Prediction-ku:
When the game's over,
their balls will be pumped up,
but their fans deflated.
---
Bonus Material ... I'm still working on it ... Check back in a day or two ... or three.
- 12481 reads
Comments
This is so nice.
hahahah
Sonofabitch; I am counting fingers again. hahahah
Oh well, spring will come
I promise; spring will come soon.
We only must wait
The snow makes us clean
And the spring just makes us green
But it's cold outside
Baby it is cold
It's not like this is so new
We've seen this before
Weather, we can know
Or weather we do know not
Weather is or not
It is our own facts
And only through our own acts
That seasons apply
by Richard Day on Fri, 01/30/2015 - 4:11pm
Yeah, baby it's cold,
of that there's no doubt ... So give
me more of Loesser.
For better or worse,
composing a verse, let me
be perfectly Frank.
by MrSmith1 on Fri, 01/30/2015 - 5:11pm
Thanks Frank.
Just do not call me Shirley.
hahahah
by Richard Day on Fri, 01/30/2015 - 6:55pm
This youtube rendition is sooooooooooo damned cooooooooooool.
I forget sometimes how the generation above me really captured wonder.
I like this song.
by Richard Day on Wed, 02/04/2015 - 12:14am
It is a great song. I think that generation also knew how to express unbridled joy. Sadly, it's no longer cool to act as if you're deliriously happy or full of wonder ... The Beatles were probably the last ones to be able to do anything approaching that in their music. Almost every musical artist since has been increasingly cynical / sarcastic / angry or ironic. Seems to me that today's generation is busy reminding us that a sense of wonder is for suckers. On the other hand, maybe I'm just cranky and need to go to bed.
by MrSmith1 on Wed, 02/04/2015 - 1:10am
Talking movies came out at the same time as the depression and movie makers seemed to know that people wanted to escape from it with a little entertainment. They were willing to spend a dime for a little happy fun and fantasy. i could sure use some of that now.
by trkingmomoe on Wed, 02/04/2015 - 2:00am
Really nice poem, Mr. Day. Your voice is absolutely unique and a treasure.
by Oxy Mora on Sat, 01/31/2015 - 10:01am
Great heap of haiku, Smith.
Fitful nights, wonderful poem.
And the photos, wow. Are they in a gallery? Documentary level.
He has shadow fame
singing just like Sinatra.
What's his name again?
Stream a cop drama.
Go to bed too tired to care.
Wake up---there's coffee!
by Oxy Mora on Fri, 01/30/2015 - 8:29pm
Thanks Oxy. No, those were just some photos I found in one of my boxes of family photos. If you want to see some great wartime photos, check out my former neighbor, whose photo of Marcel Duchamp I posted last week. His name is Tony Vaccaro, and he was a photographer for both Look and Life magazines, but got his start and is probably best known for his wartime photos of Europe. You can google him or click on the link on his name in my posting which wil take you to his wikipedia entry. He gave me a print of his photo of Duchamp because we got talking about Duchamp one night and he told me that he had photographed him back in the 1950's. He showed me a complete set of roto-reliefs that Duchamp had given him and we tried them out on my phonograph. Since I had been reading up on Duchamp for a play I was writing, (The one about Art that I posted a few weeks ago), I told him that the set of roto-reliefs he had was very rare as it had to have been from the 1930's and very few complete sets were known to still exist, much less in pristine condition. I think he had simply been storing them in a box in a plain envelope, never suspecting they had any value.
by MrSmith1 on Fri, 01/30/2015 - 9:59pm
That is really interesting.
Thanks for this weeks heap.
by trkingmomoe on Sat, 01/31/2015 - 1:00am
Purposeful thinking
too often devolves into
questionable thought.
Resting too assured
is much akin to sitting
on a splintered chair.
by barefooted on Sat, 01/31/2015 - 5:10pm
Good ones, barefooted!
Purposeful thinking
will devolve when what you do
is not on purpose.
Whenever you sit
you must be vigilant; check
your chair for splinters.
by MrSmith1 on Sat, 01/31/2015 - 6:59pm
The tattered, old chair
was ignored and rejected
'til Grandpa came home.
by barefooted on Sat, 01/31/2015 - 8:18pm
On the Roadshow, that
tattered old chair attracted
the Keno brothers.
by MrSmith1 on Sat, 01/31/2015 - 10:14pm
The old man just laughed
when they appraised its value
in dollars and cents.
by barefooted on Sat, 01/31/2015 - 10:49pm
Then he forgot and
sat on the chair, which ruined
its rich patina.
by MrSmith1 on Sat, 01/31/2015 - 11:27pm
And on that sad day
the old tattered chair became
Grandpa's life story.
by barefooted on Sun, 02/01/2015 - 12:59am
And on that sad day
Grandpa's posterior was
proved superior.
by MrSmith1 on Sun, 02/01/2015 - 4:10am
The disappointment
over what cannot be won
questions victory.
by moat on Tue, 02/03/2015 - 9:58pm
Hmm ... Perhaps. On the other hand ...
His disappointment
over what could not be won,
did question the game.
(btw, nice one, moat!)
by MrSmith1 on Tue, 02/03/2015 - 11:42pm
Then again ...
That which can't be won
is only disappointing
if never questioned.
by barefooted on Wed, 02/04/2015 - 12:39am
Ha! Thanks barefooted!
by MrSmith1 on Wed, 02/04/2015 - 12:52am