6 lines

A grinder
is digging into the wall
painfully

And there’s
nothing
I can do about it

– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2023)

Note
The reported truth and nothing but. I could have added “except write a pedestrian poem about it”, but then it would have been more than 6 lines. And we wouldn't want that, would we?

Rainy December Day

It’s
as
if a
chasse d’eau were
continually 
being pulled today, and all grey.

– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2021)

Note
So I’ve come back to a form (fibonacci) I used to practice a lot for a while and then didn’t for a long time. Nothing but the truth in this one – the waters of the sky are coming down on Rome in varying degrees of mercilessness, and it’s so dark you can hardly call it day.

Current trends in spam

 

An excerpt from my gmail spam inbox

Brand new: funeral plan offers! Wow, can't wait to get one of those plans from a surely entirely trustworthy source.

Old faithfuls for the last year or so: Bitcoin! As you can see from all the mails I've received, I'm filthy Bitcoin rich by now. Bitcoin spammers - such benefactors to mankind. And not just in English - I've also been identified as a Spanish-speaking Bitcoin aficionado. ¡Ay, caramba!

Apply and receive funds today (Just remember to include the asterisk next to 'today') - That one day was the one that went by me, so did not receive the funds. Ouch!

I also failed to track that package from Royal Mail I never ordered. Ouch again.

Now off they go - there's that handy Delete forever button.

Upon which Google Mail proudly crows "Hooray, no spam here!" like a rooster on a missing pile of manure.

The perils of having a pet haiku

Can’t tie my shoes – 
cat’s playing with the strings.

– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2021)

Note
A seriously underfilled specimen of the form, but based on nothing but real events.

Today’s weather haiku

Rain. Rain. Rain. Rain. Rain.
A little lull. Rain. Drops. Rain.
Puddle. Rain. Rain. Rain.

– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2021)

Note
That is the poetic razor-edge-of-time report on the weather in Rome on this 3rd day of 2021.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

The eventful afternoon haiku

Fell asleep watching
Sherlock Holmes’ private life – not
a single thing missed

– Leonard Blumfled (© 2019)

Note
Razor edge of time reporting from the real life front. The movie (The Private Life of Sherlock Holmes, 1970), even though directed by Billy Wilder, who has made great films, is only worth a few yawns ... or sleeping through part of it.

The new person heard about today haiku

Nicaraguan
named Scarlet now living in 
Miami. Good bye!

– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2019)

Note
One of those truth and nothing but razor edge of time poems. Probably just as significant as the red wheelbarrow.

The more than this haiku

More than this there’s
nothing – Roxy Music – more
of this – make my day

– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2018)

Note
The truth and nothing but. This song by Roxy Music played at the bar while I was having today’s second coffee. The bartender started singing it as soon as he’d heard the first chords. Whenever I hear this, I’m reminded of Bill Murray’s unforgettable karaoke version in Lost in Translation.

An unpleasant haiku

Approaching my hand
to my nose, I realized 
it smelled like garbage.

– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2017)

Note
The truth and nothing but. When that occurred just now, I remembered that I’d taken some plastic trash to the dumpster during the walk I’d just returned from. I must have made contact with the dumpster when throwing the bag in the square hole. Not to worry – I washed my hands thoroughly before writing this down.

A summer visit haiku

Two sultry perfumes
clashing on the sofa and
the fan mixing them.

– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2017)

Note
Razor-edge-of-time haiku reporting. The truth and nothing but.

A cough next door at 1 p.m.

(Another truthful haiku)

She must be rising
after last night’s 4 o’clock
boyfriend shouting match

– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2017)

Note
Nothing but the truth reported here. The dear neighbor girl came home with her latest sweetheart around 11 last night, exposed the entire neighborhood to rumba zumba music for an hour and later proceeded to have it out publicly with the guy down below between 4 and 5 in the morning.

A Sunday morning haiku

Woken up by the
bark of a dog named Leila
passing by below.

– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2017)

Note
Of course I wouldn’t have known the dog’s name if her master hadn’t said it as he was trying to calm her down. Rome, January 29, 2017, 9:22 a.m.

The surreally sentenced haiku

Thirty days of hot 
landswart for the misdeamer, 
said the judge. Gavel!

– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2016)

Note
Another one that came to me while I was half asleep and getting ready to wake up.

The Martin Shkreli haiku

There he goes crowing
and smirking: the cockiest
cock on the dunghill.

– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2016)

Note
This one was prompted by this morning’s news on France 24, where it was said that Martin Shkreli might easily be America’s most hated man nowadays.

The early morning dog haiku

Barking. The shrill kind,
a smallish yelp. Ecstatic
to have done a job.

– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2016)

Note
I hope this renders the facts as experienced from my early morning office: the yelp of a dog being walked somewhere in the vicinity. Saw neither the dog nor its walker. The job is my interpretation. Alas, many of these jobs can be encountered in the vicinity.