The life, sex, death haiku

Life evaded her.
Sex mostly evaded her.
Death evaded her.

– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2016)

Note
As we all know and have been told by countless pundits countless times, all good poems, novels, novellas, stories, movies and life in general are about life, sex or death. Or one or two of the three. Or all three, just like the purely fictitious, brutally honest and minimally mysterious ball breaker above.

The working man’s haiku

Got a new job. And
somebody next door inflicts
loud nasty grinding.

– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2016)

Notes
The facts and nothing but.

The prehistoric alienation haiku

They called her rebel
for resenting to weave baskets
each and every day.

– Leonard Blumfeld ((c) 2016)

Note
Now we know that alienation existed even at the dawn of mankind.

The damn fine haiku

It was a fine poem
and was doing fine until
someone said stand down.
 
– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2015)

Note
According to Ted Kooser and his column American Life in Poetry, American literature is full of fine poems. Yep, you got to pronounce that fine with some sort of corn belt accent to get the full meaning. The stand down part is popular in recent military Hollywood lingo. It is frequently used when we all (the audience) are meant to strongly feel that someone should actually not stand down. I added damn to the title because a damn fine poem is even finer than one that is just fine.

The fighting the addiction haiku

Succeeded! Did not
use or think of using smart-
phone for fourteen hours.

– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2016)

Note
Actually not that autobiographical. I’m perfectly happy being connected to the world normally and not through the damn gadget – unless I’m walking around taking pictures with it. Sometimes of people in public places staring into their smartphones.

The Francis Bacon face haiku

Looks like TV on
a windy day disturbing
the satellite dish.

– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2016)

Note
This poem was inspired by true events – we have a big eucalyptus outside whose branches and leaves interfere with satellite reception and cause such Bacon-like distorted faces. (Alludes to the 20th century artist (1909-1992), not the Elizabethan philosopher.)

The cannot fail to be poetic haiku

Pathetic words to
beat the crap out of your mind-
less astral body.

– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2016)

And the inevitable note
Where did that one come from? From all the ball-twisting, tear-jerking poetry out there on the net.

The damn it I said haiku

– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2016)

Written on Write A Haiku, which counts syllables for you and turns your outpourings into magnetic poetry.

The ostrich haiku

Stick your head in the
sand and wait; that is the art
of problem solving.

– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2016)

Note
All too often I catch myself doing exactly this kind of problem solving. Which is not easy to detect with your head in the sand...

The you must watch haiku

You must watch this ad
before you can see what
you wanted to see.

– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2016)

Note
A little kick at today’s coercive online advertising blackmail practices. (Is that a tautology? Doesn’t matter. Drives home the point.) This forced ad exposure reminds me of Stanley Kubricks’s film A Clockwork Orange (1971), where Malcolm McDowell’s eyes were kept open by force so he could not avoid seeing the things that were forced on him. With the aim of turning him into a nice guy from a criminal. So what’s the advertising forced upon us supposed to turn us into? Idiots who will eventually succumb and consume?