– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2026)
Notes
This is, of course, a much reduced list of today’s experiences – things heard or seen at home or on walks. Had to keep things short to cram it all into a haiku.
Last night, as I watched the 1st episode of Emily in Paris, which had been recommended by a friend, she was called a "plouc" by her lovely French colleagues. I had not come across that word before and looked it up - it means "hick". Wow! These French people really appreciate their American co-worker!
Sometimes it's even possible to learn something from a TV series.
My recent visit to the small Italian town of Lodi in Lombardy, about 30 km south of Milan, reminded me of the eponymous song by Creedence Clearwater Revival from 1969, which, however, makes reference to the city of the same name in California. John Fogerty, who wrote the song, obviously didn't like it very much (more about this can be found here).
Contrary to this, I enjoyed the Italian Lodi a lot, discovered lots of interesting places while walking through it within the limited time I had, and definitely would not mind getting stuck there again in the future.
Available on rarible as an NFT.
– Alexa, medium height!
– Yes, ma’am.
– Not me, stupid! My heels!
– Can’t hear you, ma’am.
– I’m shrinking! I’m getting smaller! What do I do?
– I can’t answer that, ma’am.
– You were supposed to lower my heels, not me, dumbcluck!
– Sorry, can’t hear you. Too much background noise.
– Get me back to full size immediately!
– Your heels? All 18 inches?
– Me, you idiot! All 5 feet 8 of me!
– Were you really that tall before?
Being out of the
sweltering mid-September
heat having coffee.
– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2025)
Note
I could have been more precise and detailed to say that the coffee was a cappuccino and that I had it at a bar in an air-conditioned shopping center in Rome, Italy. But that would have bloated the haiku way beyond what’s allowed. I also could have said that it was more or less one of those Kristoffersonian Sundays Coming Down, but that would have really killed the poetic form, right?
In my younger days
all it took was a pen
and a piece of paper
and some time by myself
to write something.
Some record of what
had happened during the day,
some observation, including
stuff that, when told to my
then girl friend Mary B.,
would cause a chuckle.
However, there was also
something about a dog –
a black bulldog I’d seen
in France on a hot day,
when it had collapsed
in the gutter exhausted –
that annoyed Mary B.
She called it a tacky story
that should neither be
remembered nor told.
So there I was – stunned;
my entertaining attempt
had been dealt a severe
blow. And it had all been
because she seemed to be
in a devilish mood, riding
the train across from me
silently and with a black glare.
Oh Mary B., what have you
done to me! Now black
glares tell me to avoid
well-meaning bulldog-in-
gutter anecdotes and best
just shut the fuck up.
I had an empty white
computer page in front
of me, dreading that
emptiness, but then
ended up filling it after all,
with some lengthy bullshit.
– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2025)
Notes
All true, except that some of this happened around 2003, and that part may have undergone some memory mutations. Dreading white space is definitely a problem these days. I might suffer from something vague like writer’s block.
Tesla Cybertruck
Surely one of the hottest contenders for the Ugliest Car Ever award with its design reminiscent of Soviet practice.
This one was seen and photographed as parked in a No Parking spot in Idaho, USA.
And she's holding a Corona and it's cold against her hand
– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2025)
Note
This transpired as a response to the daily haiku prompt for May 5, 2025.
Is is that painful
smell of someone so rich he
denies his own farts?
– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2025)
Note
Where exactly this one came from I don’t know. However, I’ve been thinking a lot about these times and some of the rich and powerful personalities they feature oh so prominently. Bluntly put: they do not smell good.
Complained the crocus:
Rain again! Water, water,
water – so boring!
The sardine: Feels like
heaven. My element! – I
like it, and salty!
– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2024)
Note
Today’s haiku prompt was this juxtaposition: crocus (North) and sardine (South). I decided to travel both ways.
– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2025)
Note
That’s what I did about the suggestion for 2/23/2025 from Daily Haiku Prompt.
In the dense mouth
these tepid lights –
an artificial dust
– Lee Nao Doh and Basho
✧✧✧✧✧
No one bulge
along this mouth but I,
this dense light.
– Lee Nao Doh and Basho
✧✧✧✧✧
A dense tepid mouth...
A light bulge into the dust,
bellyache! Daffodil again.
– Lee Nao Doh and Basho
✧✧✧✧✧
Dense mouth,
the light
is tepid of dust.
– Lee Nao Doh and Buson
✧✧✧✧✧
Don't bulge, mouth
light, dust themselves,
must nip.
– Lee Nao Doh and Issa
✧✧✧✧✧
Bulge me,
as one who nips mouth
and light.
– Lee Nao Doh and Shiki
✧✧✧✧✧
Note
Once again I felt the urge to test the poetic vein of an artificial intelligence (even though of an apparently very lowly kind) in creating haiku out of a list of words I, Lee Nao Doh, had defined. The AI then mixed this input with haiku from the masters: Basho, Buson, Issa and Shiki. Rendering poetry that is partially reminiscent of slightly surreal Chinese proverbs or fortune cookie stuff.
Feel like doing the same? Click here.
An earlier attempt, from which I picked three haiku.
Yours,
Leonard B., aka Lee Nao Doh
