The Bishop and the Butterfly: Murder, Politics, and the End of the Jazz Age
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    A Very Late Friday Afternoon at the Haikulodeon

    By MrSmith1 on Fri, 04/05/2013 - 5:50pm |

     

     

    Here's this week's heap of haikus:
     
     
     
     
    Slowly I arose
    and craned to see the peaches
    'neath the bamboo tree.
     
     
    ------------------------------
     
     
    Happy would-have-been 122nd birthday to my maternal grandmother.
    Agnes Mulry Tracy Tharp. - April 4, 1891-1951
     
     
    I don't remember
    any of my grandparents;  I
    had to spoil myself.
     
     
    ------------------------------------
     
     
    tanka haiku:
     
    Standing on the beach,
    looking at the ocean, I
    ponder Life's journey.

    What makes me laugh, is to think
    that seagulls do the same thing.
     
     
    ------------------------------
     
     
     
    double haiku:
     
    In the gazebo,
    he played a kazoo, and her
    resistance melted.
     
     
    He could not strum nor
    fiddle, it was either play
    kazoo or whittle.
     
    ---
     
    My Friend Jim's response:
     
     
    Whittled hickory
    beats sonic tin when one seeks
    her hearts melody
     
     
    My response:
     
     
    His knife was too dull
    to whittle a whistle, so
    he blew his kazoo.
     
     
    --------------------------------
     
     
    Too many wind chimes,
    not enough jello shots; the
    story of his life.
     
     
    ---------------------------------
     
     
     
    He imprisoned her
    picture, in hopes her spirit
    would never leave him.
     
     
    ----------------------------------
     
     
     In the darkest night,
    there remains an ember which
    will re-light the dawn.
     
     
    -----------------------------------
     
     
    A sliver of moon,
    slicing through the clouds, restless
    shadows roam the fields.
     
     
    ------------------------------------
     
     
    I remain in awe
    of the lives that have touched mine;
    each brought a lesson.
     
     
    ------------------------------------
     
     
    Experience and
    beliefs; like the delta silt,
    will muddy waters.
     
     
    (Happy would-have-been 100th birthday to Muddy Waters.)
     
     
    -------------------------------------
     
     
     It does not add up,
    that the way to multiply,
    is through division.
     
     
    -----------------------------------
     
     
    Then, it dawned on him;
    All those 'stories' in his head ...
    had really happened!
     
     
    ------------------------------------
     
     
    Her deepest regret,
    was that she'd let him go ... and
    now he won't come back.
     
     
     
    ----------------------------------------
     
     
    haiku re-dux: A garden pathway,
    Lined with purple violets,
    Absorbs all sadness.
     
     
     
    ----------------------------------------
     
     
    Triple haiku:
     
    She was diagnosed,
    and medicated, but now
    felt isolated.

    Friends now thought her strange ,
    fam'ly felt she was deranged,
    but ... she had not changed.

    Illness does not mean
    She's no longer "She" ... and she's
    no shorter either.
     
     
    -----------------------------------------------
     
     
     
    The weekend hunter,
    tripped on a pine cone. Even
    the dog rolled his eyes.
     
     
     
    -------------------------------------
     
     
     
    He was mesmerized,
    not by her beauty, but by
    how sweetly she laughed.
     
     
    --------------------------------------
     
     
    tanka haiku:

    Will you take my hand?
    Will you walk with me awhile?
    Will you be my love?

       Questions may fly through the air,
       Answers must come through actions.
     
     
    -------------------------------------------------
     
     
     
    Ah, yellow daisies ...
    even weeping willows will
    smile when they appear.
     
     
    ----------------------------------------
     
     
     
    Cherry blossoms bloom
    along the Potomac as
    scoundrels lie with thieves.
     
     
    ---------------------------------------------
     
     
    All of my efforts
    can be summed up by how I
    continue to walk.
     
     
    --------------------------------------------
     
     
     
    As Spring emerges,
    crocuses and daffodils
    greet me while I stroll.
     
     
    ----------------------------------------------
     
     
     
    As I go about
    my day, I search out flowers
    for they exude joy.
     
     
    --------------------------------
     
     
     Inside my small world
    are infinite galaxies
    for me to explore.
     
     
    -------------------------------------
     
     
     
     
    Sports note: Baseball season has begun!!  This year the Spondyville Fusers start the year with high hopes and a hole in the infield, as Fusers shortstop, Benny "Scoops" McStumbles is nursing a sore ankle. As per tradition, the season opener will pit our beloved Fusers against their crosstown rivals, the Crohn's Corners Cronies. Next week, the Oswego Osteos (aka The hobbling O's) come to town  for a twi-night double-header followed by the much despised Rheumadelphia Rheumatoids,