Friday, April 5, 2024

Let me do my work

 Dedicated to Alessandro

There we go.
And now.
That’s what I need.
A bucket.
This goes here.
Dropped it all.
A broom.
Now what.
Needs to dry.
What is this.
No way.
Next thing I need.
Found it.
Now that.
Doesn’t work at all.
Maybe it will.
All OK.

– Nicole Weiß (© 2024)

Author’s note
Yesterday, the handyman Alessandro S. was working in my house. This short story is more or less based on things he mumbled to himself while he was going about his work.

Translation from German. The German version was published here.

Tuesday, March 5, 2024

A Korean move

Drop sideways onto
bed in desperation, then
sad eyes on pillow

– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2024)

Inspired by watching yet another South Korean TV series – Dr. Slump (2024). The photo is a film still of actress Park Shin-hye in a scene from this series.

Thursday, February 29, 2024

Today’s observation haiku

Stout Roma woman
seated on a concrete block
outside the market

She had removed one 
sock and was massaging the
toes of her bare foot

– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2024)

The truth and nothing but.
Was this worth noting and being poeticized/documented?
Not entirely sure. But what’s done is done.

Sunday, February 4, 2024

Linger On

Linger on,
you pale blue light

And it did linger on,
pale and blue

But just how long
and what followed – 

light or shade – 
I do not know

after the night’s 
weighty long dream

– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2024)

This was sparked by the song Pale Blue Eyes by the Velvet Underground, which has appeared and disappeared repeatedly in my mind for days now for reasons unknown with its title and imagery distorted.

Sunday, January 21, 2024

A lazy Sunday afternoon haiku


Sunny afternoon,
late January. At home
alone, cat sleeping.

– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2024)

Razor edge of time reporting, glimpse of a time span that lasted for a while. I’d actually planned to write this in my ahead before I even got home. I knew that the cat would be sleeping. He does that about 16 hours out of 24.

Thursday, January 18, 2024

Photography haiku


Found out this morning
I have neither spider web 
photos nor smoke pix

– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2024)

I’ve been known to participate in some photography challenges where you’re invited to post a photo to match a given topic. This made me realize that I have nothing suitable for at least two topics. The above smoky picture is actually a fake – the interior of this room looks smoky but in reality the smoke was the result of a dirty window through which I shot the photo. As to spider web photos, I have nothing to show. Must try to look for webs!

Saturday, January 13, 2024

Old movie


“That’s an old movie – you can tell by the cell phones they’re using.”

– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2024)

This was said by a relatively young person (born in 1986). Makes me feel downright ancient because old movies to me are still those that were made in the 1930s, 1940s and 1950s. They definitely used rotary phones in those days – if any.

Saturday, January 6, 2024

Critical Can Opener


There’s nothing wrong
with this poem.
No need to look for it.

– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2024)

A variation of Richard Brautigan’s poem of the same title, in which he says “There is something wrong with this poem. Can you find it?” (Quoted from Brautigan’s collection Rommel Drives on Deep into Egypt from 1970.)

Saturday, December 30, 2023

At cHouse


A bartender who looks like Sandra the Hawaiian from Superstore mixed my drink this evening.

– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2023)

The year’s about to end, so I decided to treat myself to one of those Italian bitters, and the above Japanese sentence renders the event as concisely as possible. No picture of the bartender – that would violate privacy laws.

Friday, December 15, 2023

What do I remember

What do I remember
of this light-weight day
above the hillside,
above dark shadows,
looking at blazing white
clouds in the distance?

– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2023)

Let’s leave it at that, shall we? More of a question about memory and what one remembers about one particular moment. Thank God for photographs – they greatly help with the task of reconstructing things gone by.

The photo taken from a chair lift above Campo Imperatore in Abruzzo, Italy, is by my real me, Johannes Beilharz. Leica R4, 50 mm Summilux, Adox CMS II 20 film.