The den haiku

The lion’s den – used
to be the dragon’s lair – what
awful putrid strench!

– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2013)

Written for Haiku Heights and den.

Note
More than anything, this one plays with fixed expressions and treats them literally.

The black haiku

I have to turn my head until my darkness goes
– The Rolling Stones, Paint It Black

You said, paint it black,
so I did. Now everyone
calls me negative.

– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2013)

Written for Haiku Heights and black.

Note
Goes to show that you should not always listen to what people say.

The myth haiku

Myth is alive, myth
is afoot, myth never died.
Naked myth does thrive.

– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2013)

Instigated by Haiku Heights and myth, with a huge dose of inspiration from the Leonard Cohen/Buffy Sainte-Marie song God is Alive, Magic is Afoot.

Notes
Myth is rampant in this oh so scientific age. For example, the myth that we should get a new cell phone at least once a year in order to always stay connected in the latest ways, to keep up with the Joneses and to fill the pockets of Tim Cook and other CEOs. Or the myth that freedom can coexist with the NSA spying on everyone and everything in the whole wide world. Etc.

Proverbs from the Chinese XIII

Easygoing handsome facts are in the air for you today.

This was today's original Chinese horoscope.
Can't wait to be faced with these easygoing handsome facts!
(It's usually the hard and ugly facts that cause you pain.)
As to their carrier – the air –, it is cool and breezy today – full of the promise of those pleasant facts ...

– Leonard "Loves Facts" Blumfeld (© 2013)

Posted for 3WW (easygoing –  handscome – fact).

The butter haiku

You sweet and creamy
thing! How you get slandered as
saturated fat!

– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2013)

Written for Haiku Heights and butter.

Notes
No comment needed for this one.

The chirpy haiku

Be chirpy, show this
rotten day some teeth, smile, go
beyond yourself, chirp!

Written for Haiku Heights and chirp.

Note
Written not because today is a rotten day, but just in case.
It's always good to have that kind of encouragement – good for pulling oneself out of the dumps.
Especially for writers. Go ahead: chirp, twitter, tweet or write!

– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2013)

The dreadful haiku

Dr. Dread hands me
another exciting glass:
dread or be dreaded.

– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2013)

Inspired by Haiku Heights and dread.

Note
This one is about choice, but actually more about the fundamental error of black versus white choice situations into which we see ourselves put occasionally. The choice is not between dread or be dreaded. The choice is not to have to accept the glass from Dr. Dread.

The carnival haiku

Thoughts and feelings in
a spin, force-pulled blue horses
jumping up and down.

– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2013)

Inspired by Haiku Heights and carnival.

Inevitable author's note
Can't shed much light on the workings of this one.
The word carnival reminded me of the little permanent carnival in the neighborhood, which hardly ever seems to get visitors, so I'm wondering how it manages to survive.
My thoughts (more so than my feelings) are indeed in a spin, probably as a result of having strong coffee.
That's all, folks, I'm afraid.

The rain in Rome haiku

The Italian
nation wilts in rain, stays home
or visits temples*.

– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2013)

*These, of course, are no longer the temples of Jupiter or Jehova, but their modern equivalent: the shopping centers or temples of consumerism, which offer free shelter from the wet element.

Author's note
As if I could ever leave a haiku without a note!
Once again, what this one says is (mostly) the truth and razor edge of time reporting because it is raining in Rome.
Also, I must apologize for using the present of wilted.

Written for Haiku Heights and wilted.

The long lost river haiku

The long river flows –
song heard on radio long
ago. Who sings it?

– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2013)

Evoked by Haiku Heights and river.

Note
Completely true once again – nothing invented. Heard this song on the radio about 40 years ago. Never have heard it again. But have never forgotten it. Or should I say: never forgotten the memory of it. Memory works in the strangest ways.

The no shit haiku

I’m lucky, I’m lucky,
I can walk under ladders
– Joan Armatrading

You saw a black cat
killed under a ladder on
Friday the 13th?

– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2013)

Written upon inspiration by Haiku Heights and superstition.

Author's note and disclaimer
Rest assured: no such thing happened.
No animals were harmed during the making of this haiku.

The tradition haiku

Abolition would
be a good and proper end
to some traditions.

– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2013)

Note
There are some silly traditions (for example, that my family always had to have cheese fondue on New Year’s Eve even though I, for one, hated it), and then there are some that are downright nasty, like bull fights in Spain and female circumcision in some African countries.
All in all, I tend to be more wary of than gung-ho on things traditional, though, of course, there are also many good traditions that deserve to be retained, such as honesty, fairness, modesty, literacy and the like.

Written for Haiku Heights and tradition.

The kitchen haiku

Smell of onions fried
last night still wafts up – open door
or not? Mosquitos ...

– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2013)

Instigated by Haiku Heights and Kitchen.

Notes
If there is anything I dislike about Rome, it is the plenty of its noiseless, blood-thirsty mosquitos. These guys give you no acoustic warning.
Once again, this is an all-true, razor-edge-of-time piece of poetry. Nothing invented, no artificial ingredients. About to go down to kitchen to open that door and see if there's some fruit for second breakfast.

Pol(s)ka

The unwritten Warsaw
ballet remains unwritten
until return.

– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2013)

A contribution to Haiku Heights and ballet.

Notes
I'd promised myself that I would write one poem a day during my recent trip to Warsaw, Poland, and failed miserably. My diary contains entries from just two days out of four, and these are just notes on what happened or what I saw, nothing that could be called a poem. Of course, there are many valid excuses: lack of time alone, tiredness after lengthy excursions in Warsaw and other places in Poland, etc. You can't always write what you want, to quote the Rolling Stones.
However, I liked Poland so much that I'm ready to return any time, so that there is a chance that the Warsaw ballet will be written some day after all...