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

    A Too Darn Hot Friday Afternoon at the Haikulodeon

     

    Here's this week's heap of haikus:
     
     
     
    Behind the pool hall,
    drunken teens sit quietly,
    getting their first tats.
     
     
     
     
    ---
     
     
    Is the Art I make,
    just revenge for what I've been
    forced into being?
     
     
     
    ---
     
    He was bred in Rye,
    creamed in Milk River, and laughed
    at in Ho-Ho-Kus.
     
     
    ---
     
     
     Will you ever wake?
    Or will you dream forever?
    Will you ever know?
     
     
    ---
     
     
    haiku re-dux: She laughed wickedly.
    Such a chill went up his spine,
    that he sneezed ice cubes.

    (An oldie, but one of my favorites.  It still makes me laugh.)
     
     
    ---
     
     
    tanka haiku: All one ever knows,
    Is what they’ve experienced ...
    OR taken on faith.

    But, like silt in riverbeds,
    both can muddy the water.
     
     
    ---
     
     
     Yearning for peaches,
    he settled for nectarines …
    and hoped for the best.
     
     
    ---
     
     

     
     
    ---
     
    In the stream of Life,
    flow with a swift current to
    avoid stagnant pools.
     
     
    ---
     
     
    On a Summer’s day,
    an old jalopy sputters
    down a dusty road.
     
     
    ---
     
     
    After the downpour,
    the neon lights of Broadway
    shimmered in puddles.
     
     
    ---
     
     
    Soon it's gonna rain,
    I can feel it ... that's because,
    I have arthritis.
     
     
    ---
     
    In a lonely room,
    a writer pecks his keyboard …
    then ... Inspiration!
     
     
    ---
     
     
    Aggravating man,
    infuriating woman;
    Act Three, they're in love.
     
     
    ---
     
    A glass of ice cubes,
    a pitcher of lemonade,
    save me from the heat.
     
     
    ---
     
     
    Siamese twins are
    conjoined. Why are Siamese
    kittens just confused?
     
     
    ---
     
     
    Somewhere in the deep
    recesses of my brain, sleep
    forgotten haikus.
     
     
    ---
     
     
     In basement boxes,
    Grandma's Christmas ornaments,
    still wait patiently.
     
     
    ---
     
     
    He had come to grips
    with his own mortality,
    till he found true love.
     
     
    ---
     
     
    Sucker punched by thugs ...
    smooched by dames ... he fires his gat ...
    (Dreams of film noir.)
     
     
    ---
     
     
     
     Whispers in the dark,
    then a welcome caress, and
    a kiss that lingered.
     
     
    ---
     
     
     His morals could sway
    like willows in the breeze, yet
    his heart stayed grounded.
     
     
    ---
     
     
    Though she wished to be
    the love of his life, her heart
    could yearn no longer.
     
     
    ---
     

    tanka haiku:

    What's the penalty
    for a pre-emptive killing
    based on wrong judgments?

       Evidently, there is none,
       in fact, it's called self-defense.

    ---

     

    tanka haiku:

     

    What is in my mind

    can't make anyone guilty

    other than myself.

       We must distinguish between

        self-int'rest and self defense.

     

    ----

     

    A haiku quartet:

    Slyly, quietly,

    the fox circled his prey to

    find their weakness ... but

     

    he hesitated.

    then withdrew. He no longer

    had the urge to kill.

     

    Had his heart been changed?

    Was it self-protection? Do

    Predators pity? 

     

    Am I telling lies?

    Would a fox not kill their prey? 

    Well, what do YOU think?

     


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    Comments

    Thanks, I enjoyed one about "raised in rye."  Do you know how hard it is to get rye bread to rise?  That is one heavy flour.  Hopefully you have a break in the weather from the heat this week.  You just keep getting better. 


    Thanks trkingmomoe.  I liked the pun of bred/bread in rye, and was trying to think of other towns, besides the infamous Intercourse, PA to use.  I may revisit that haiku and either expand it or do a re-write on it sometime down the road.  Of course, I find that Ho-Ho-Kus is always funny. 

     


    My smile is legal.

    The land itself is on drugs;

    Clouds stumble through trees.

     

    Repeat after me.

    But it is never the same.

    Cat ignores the string.

     

    We were making out.

    The noon rush was closing in.

    Napkin prints her lips.

     


    moat, these are wonderful. 
     

     

    We could not hear the

    cop walk up behind us while

    we were making out.

     

    ---

     

    Sure, we tried again

    but it is never the same.

    Donuts dunk but once.