The retarded haiku

This poem is slow.
Even the fast events in
it occur slowly.

– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2016)


Note
Woke up at 6:15 a.m. with this on my mind and got up to go to the toilet and to write it down. Didn't want to turn the computer on, so I wrote it as an e-mail on my cell and sent it to myself. How the miracles of technology favor poetry!

This happened on April 16. Rediscovered the e-mail a few days ago.

And now it's finally seeing the light of the (electronic) world after the darkness of electronic storage. Wow!

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...