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

    A More Than Pleasant Friday Afternoon at the Haikulodeon

     

     

     

     

    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.


    Beautiful Flowerchild!   And bravo to kid #1!


    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?


     

    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.

     

    .


    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.


    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?

     

    ---