The Mark Rothko haiku

Two bed sheets, one black,
the other vaguely blue, strung
together to dry.

– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2014)

Note
You might have guessed it: Mark Rothko is not among my favorite painters. Even though the entire art world seems to be all gaga about his big two- or three-colored bed sheets.

New Google Maps

The new Google Maps is SHIT.

Why does Google proclaim this is easier to use? The exact opposite is true.

All the essential tools and options are no longer displayed where they used to be (and should be), but hidden behind some nincompoop icon.

The Roman neighbor girl on Saturday morning haiku

This house has thin walls –
and she’s already on a
full-fledged whinging binge.

– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2014)

The truth and nothing but the (un)poetic truth. Razor edge of time reporting.

The Modigliani haiku

Squinty little eyes
and narrow face? Good chance it’s
an Amedeo.

– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2014)

Note
The above painting is Gypsy woman with baby (1919) by Amedeo Modigliani.

The no idea haiku

This one has not a
single idea. It lives in
things, in things only.

– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2014)

Note
This one toys with the well-known and often quoted William Carlos Williams’ statement “No ideas but in things.” Actually, it fails on both accounts – it has neither ideas nor things... It is a very reticent poem, one might say.

Recommended viewing: Poets United.

The knife haiku

You looked so sharp this
morning! But now, after work,
you look rather dull...

– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2014)

Inspired by Haiku Heights and Sharp.

The John Singer Sargent haiku

John Singer Sargent, White Dresses (1911)

Two women slain in
battle? No – white dresses in
peace on parched grass...

– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2014)

Note
When I first glimpsed this painting, my initial flash was that it represented an after-battle scene – bodies strewn on the ground, limbs sticking up.
The first real haiku I've written in a while ... with that sudden flash of recognition in the second half.

The kitchen mishap haiku

Big coffee puddle
on kitchen floor. No-one to
tell me who done it.

– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2014)

Note
Derived from a dream I had last night. Tons of unknown people, all German, were milling around the family cabin in the Black Forest, which, in reality, was torn down a few years ago because of sad neglect. Someone had made the above-mentioned coffee puddle. In the dream I did not ask who had, supplying the explanation in my mind that these people did not know the place and were obviously incompetent as well. Was too shy to out myself as the one who had known this cabin since childhood. Now what do you make of such a dream?
By the way: happy new year!

The rear gear haiku

I’m in backwards mode
again today, where I want
nothing of this world.

– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2013)

Note
Do you ever go through these moods where everything seems futile? Where cell phones, movies, social media hoopla, poems, paintings, consumerism and poop seem all the same? Where you sort of feel like Buddha, wanting to spend the rest of your life sitting at some intersection somewhere in Bihar, having nothing and wanting nothing? You do? Then you know what this haiku is about.

The thanks haiku

For S.

Thank you India,
thank you Sadhana! Thanks!
You’ve been good to me.

– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2013)

It's the thanksgiving time of the year, and I'm joining in along with Haiku Heights.

I must admit that the first line was inspired by Alanis Morisette's song Thank U, so I'm also giving thanks to that song: