A lesser known Neruda quote

And when I swanned myself again, I had become my own swimmer, my own beak.

Attributed to Chilean poet Pablo Neruda, translator and source unknown.

Notes
Came across this on a social network page today that, going by its other postings, is a jumble of things gleaned from here and there and anywhere. Of course, there was no mention of a source or context. Therefore it’s quite possible that someone made this up and attributed it to a famous poet to elevate its importance.

The desperate letters haiku

 

Writing half-withered
letters to Sea, the under-
standing blue houseplant

– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2020)

Note:
Inspired by a haiku by N. Gutierrez, turned inside out and deformed in other ways.

Photo by Antonio Grosz on Unsplash

The dark day haiku

Carry a flashlight
to walk the streets of Rome – it
is that dark today.

– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2020)

Note
The truth and nothing but. The seemingly endless scorchers of summer 2020 have come to a dark and wet end for the time being.

The a bad part of creation haiku

Smells blood, lands on you, 

inserts stinger, injects

saliva, sucks your blood.

– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2020)

Notes

Mosquitos: one of the worst parts of creation ever invented. And no, Mr. Darwin, I don’t believe this could possibly have come about all by itself – too devious. Selection of the nastiest?

The Donald Trump haiku

The mover and shaker
has moved to another golf course
to shake a few clubs.

– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2020)

Note
Doing the only thing he might be half good at. Besides spreading lies and clapping for himself, of course. The haiku is slightly overfilled, like the man himself.

He thinks he'll keep her (haiku #2318)

Clock. Carpenter. My.
Close to midnight. YouTube playing.
He thinks he’ll keep her.

– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2020)

Note
Pieces of disjointed truth and nothing but.

The perfect life haiku

She wanted a life
as perfect as what you see
in advertising.

– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2020)

Note
One of the common experiences with advertising is that you don't necessarily get what was advertised when you buy the product. Advertising has that special knack of making things look better than true. And an old wisdom says that if something looks too good to be true it most likely isn't true. Like the kind of life generally portrayed by advertising. It's better to think of it as staged and paid bliss, I'd say, subtracting at least 75 percent as a reality penalty.

The monosyllabic haiku

Oh! So, no if but 
and or what not like that true
no, no, it ain’t bro.

– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2020)

Note
The year and my blogs have gotten off to a slow start – took me until February to even think of posting something. And now it’s this mono-syllable thing that doesn’t say much, does it? Yes, I think it could be safely said that it is somewhat reticent in the meaning department.

The freezing December night haiku

It’s just me and the
moon now, a noncommittal
cold stare from above.

– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2019)

Note
Once in a while it hits us all – the urge to involve the moon in poetry. This is the outcome of my latest moon wax attack. Thank God it’s from above. From below would definitely be spooky. Should have worn mittens and a warm hat on that imaginary December night walk.

The looking at an old picture haiku

Was she playing a
harmonica or was that 
a fake wide moustache?

– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2019)

Note
You know those old photos – sharp, black and white and very small. So, I am unable to tell without a magnifying glass. I remember the hike we took in the mountains of Crete way back when but have no recollection of that harmonica or moustache instant. She’s standing on rocks under an olive tree with her hand held close to her mouth. As you would to hold a moustache in place or point to it or to hold and play a harmonica. Will we ever know?

The stopped on Via Laurentina haiku

All five fingers of
right hand on her face, middle
pushing up nose tip

– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2019)

Note
The truth and nothing but. Observed the driver of a car in the right lane while stuck in traffic this morning.

Sunday haiku

Most haiku
fall flat
on their you know what

– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2019)

Note
Lo! He’s broken his lasting poetic silence to come out with an underfilled haiku denigrating the genre, and that on Sunday. As to the you know what, there are two principal possibilities.

The sowing the seeds of doubt haiku

A parked metal box, 
human talk issuing from 
it. Oh so what if.

– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2019)

Note
All based on experience from a few minutes ago. The last 4 words are doing the sowing.

A flash flat character study

Middle-aged woman on a walk with her friend: “And I of necessity take valerian.”

– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2019)

Note
As I was walking along this morning, two women crossed my path, and I caught this fragment of conversation in Italian (“e io per forza prendo valeriana”). Let’s say this is an American sentence with an Italian character in it.

The clack clack haiku

Man in his fifties,
greying, in shorts, super tanned,
chews gum open-mouthed.

– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2019)

Note
Pretty much compressed razor edge of time reporting. The tanned shorts variety of Leisure Suit Larry.

The Ice Saints Haiku

Coldest mid May in
decades, thunder rolling,
endless, endless rain

– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2019)

Note
All true, nothing to add. Who are the Ice Saints?

Hell hath no fury

greater than a 
next door neighbor with a 
hammer drill

– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2019)

Note
The truth and nothing but, first hand. This man won't stop until there's a zillion holes in every wall. Here’s to William Congreve who is misquoted here.

A winter variation

Run the water for
a minute, step in, avoid
touching the cold walls.

– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2019)

Note
The truth and nothing but about taking a shower in winter.

The can’t trust bird shit haiku

Got shat on today,
but all of the numbers I 
drew were shitty duds.

– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2019)

Note
Razor edge of time reporting from the truth front. I was debating with myself whether to make the haiku prettier by using “pretty” instead of “shitty”, but prettiness lost out. After all, it was shit that made me buy two lottery tickets.

First December 31st Haiku

It’s cleaning day, can’t
hear a thing but vacuum
cleaner howl.

– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2018)

Note
Named this “First December 31st Haiku”. Surely there’s going to be something more important today than meditating on an obnoxious vacuum cleaner. It’s a bagless one from AEG, which works fine except for the you know what. On that note: Happy New Year!