The chirpy haiku

Be chirpy, show this
rotten day some teeth, smile, go
beyond yourself, chirp!

Written for Haiku Heights and chirp.

Note
Written not because today is a rotten day, but just in case.
It's always good to have that kind of encouragement – good for pulling oneself out of the dumps.
Especially for writers. Go ahead: chirp, twitter, tweet or write!

– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2013)

The dreadful haiku

Dr. Dread hands me
another exciting glass:
dread or be dreaded.

– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2013)

Inspired by Haiku Heights and dread.

Note
This one is about choice, but actually more about the fundamental error of black versus white choice situations into which we see ourselves put occasionally. The choice is not between dread or be dreaded. The choice is not to have to accept the glass from Dr. Dread.

The carnival haiku

Thoughts and feelings in
a spin, force-pulled blue horses
jumping up and down.

– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2013)

Inspired by Haiku Heights and carnival.

Inevitable author's note
Can't shed much light on the workings of this one.
The word carnival reminded me of the little permanent carnival in the neighborhood, which hardly ever seems to get visitors, so I'm wondering how it manages to survive.
My thoughts (more so than my feelings) are indeed in a spin, probably as a result of having strong coffee.
That's all, folks, I'm afraid.

The rain in Rome haiku

The Italian
nation wilts in rain, stays home
or visits temples*.

– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2013)

*These, of course, are no longer the temples of Jupiter or Jehova, but their modern equivalent: the shopping centers or temples of consumerism, which offer free shelter from the wet element.

Author's note
As if I could ever leave a haiku without a note!
Once again, what this one says is (mostly) the truth and razor edge of time reporting because it is raining in Rome.
Also, I must apologize for using the present of wilted.

Written for Haiku Heights and wilted.

The long lost river haiku

The long river flows –
song heard on radio long
ago. Who sings it?

– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2013)

Evoked by Haiku Heights and river.

Note
Completely true once again – nothing invented. Heard this song on the radio about 40 years ago. Never have heard it again. But have never forgotten it. Or should I say: never forgotten the memory of it. Memory works in the strangest ways.

The no shit haiku

I’m lucky, I’m lucky,
I can walk under ladders
– Joan Armatrading

You saw a black cat
killed under a ladder on
Friday the 13th?

– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2013)

Written upon inspiration by Haiku Heights and superstition.

Author's note and disclaimer
Rest assured: no such thing happened.
No animals were harmed during the making of this haiku.

The tradition haiku

Abolition would
be a good and proper end
to some traditions.

– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2013)

Note
There are some silly traditions (for example, that my family always had to have cheese fondue on New Year’s Eve even though I, for one, hated it), and then there are some that are downright nasty, like bull fights in Spain and female circumcision in some African countries.
All in all, I tend to be more wary of than gung-ho on things traditional, though, of course, there are also many good traditions that deserve to be retained, such as honesty, fairness, modesty, literacy and the like.

Written for Haiku Heights and tradition.

The kitchen haiku

Smell of onions fried
last night still wafts up – open door
or not? Mosquitos ...

– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2013)

Instigated by Haiku Heights and Kitchen.

Notes
If there is anything I dislike about Rome, it is the plenty of its noiseless, blood-thirsty mosquitos. These guys give you no acoustic warning.
Once again, this is an all-true, razor-edge-of-time piece of poetry. Nothing invented, no artificial ingredients. About to go down to kitchen to open that door and see if there's some fruit for second breakfast.

Pol(s)ka

The unwritten Warsaw
ballet remains unwritten
until return.

– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2013)

A contribution to Haiku Heights and ballet.

Notes
I'd promised myself that I would write one poem a day during my recent trip to Warsaw, Poland, and failed miserably. My diary contains entries from just two days out of four, and these are just notes on what happened or what I saw, nothing that could be called a poem. Of course, there are many valid excuses: lack of time alone, tiredness after lengthy excursions in Warsaw and other places in Poland, etc. You can't always write what you want, to quote the Rolling Stones.
However, I liked Poland so much that I'm ready to return any time, so that there is a chance that the Warsaw ballet will be written some day after all...

The rock, the mountain doubts the validity of his objectives

Today's horoscope read:

Do you doubt the validity of your objectives? Is it possible that you, the rock, the mountain, the bulldozer are having doubts? By golly, it is possible. While you are the master of concrete details, it seems you stumble when it comes to understanding the philosophy behind your plans. Assuming, of course, there is a philosophy. If not, this is the time to consider just what motivates you in your life...

Finally a horoscope that is halfway interesting and relevant!

Answers:
a. Yes, it is possible.
b. Most of the time I don't even feel like a rock or mountain.
c. I never feel like a bulldozer. It's nothing I aspire to be. Probably my tough luck!
d. I am into concrete details. Guilty of that.
e. Yes, I admit to stumbling.
f. Yes, I assume.
g. I am considering. Will let you know the results real soon.

Wake-Up Song

Most mornings I wake up with a song in my mind. I've been trying to determine what causes a particular song to be it on a particular day. Without any success so far.

This morning's song, for example, was a chanson by Serge Reggiani, the French singer and actor (1922-2004). I could not remember the title of the song, so I looked up the album on the Internet just now – it was simply called "Serge Reggiani" and released by Polydor in 1973. Reading the track list had me confused – had the song playing in my head been "Le vieux couple" or "Hôtel des voyageurs" or even "Contre vents et marées"? I could recall all of them in memory, even though I haven't listened to the album in years.

Confusion resolved: it was "Le vieux couple" after all – listened to it on Youtube (see link below).

So much on wake-up songs for now. Will probably explore this topic again soon.

Morning impression

Neighbor's out
on her balcony

Taking quick
decisive puffs

It's that neighbor
whose age

is in hot dispute
between Sadhana

and me. I
make her younger,

she insists on
beyond forty.

It's difficult
to tell

because we
only ever see her

in the shade
of the drawn

sunblind, always
puffing away

– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2013)

Proverbs from the Chinese XII

"Never ponder a heave unless it is valid."

One more of those puzzling Chinese proverbs, but possibly just another bad translation. Anyway, it nicely contains today's three words from 3WW: heave, ponder and valid.

Somehow this leaves me pondering ...

Was it meant to say "Never heave a ponder unless ..."?

But even that does not seem particularly valid.

– Yours in Chinese mode Leonard Blumfeld

James M. Cain, The Cocktail Waitress

James
Cain's
Cocktail
Waitress is
the potboiler that
is boiling in my pot right now.

– Leonard "Crime Reader" Blumfeld

First fibonacci in a long time ... written upon inspiration by Poets United.

Mona Lisa Has Found Her True Calling

 

 Picture taken in Città di Castello, Umbria

The filthy poor rhyme

The filthy rich get
rich by making sure
that most others
remain filthy poor.

– Leonard Blumfeld  (© 2013)

Inevitable note
Somehow yesterday's Filthy rich haiku stuck in my mind, demanding more treatment. This resulted in the above poem, which is no longer a haiku by count of syllables & lines. For obvious reasons, I'm calling this filthy poor metric companion to the filthy rich a rhyme.

The filthy rich haiku

The filthy rich get
rich by making sure others
get very little.

– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2013)

Inevitable notes
Who ever said haiku should be limited to gentle muzings about bonsai in the mist and could not be used for succinct statements of fact? Facts such as that the gap between rich and poor has never been more extreme than right now.
Last year, Apple’s CEO earned about 1 million dollars a day while the workers making Apple products at Foxconn in China earned about 10 dollars a day.
China, a nominally communist* country, now boasts the world’s second largest number of billionaires, right behind God’s own USA.
*Part of the communist doctrine, if I remember right, is a very negative attitude towards private property.

Infinite wisdom I

I was going to start the year with a new column titled "The infinite wisdom of Leonard Blumfeld" or something along those lines, imparting to the world my precious gems of infinite wisdom.

But the fact is that I have come to dislike aphorisms and most of the pearls and beads of wisdom quoted or shared on Facebook or in other books at any opportune and inopportune moment and time of day, telling you in flashes of deep or shallow insight how to live your life, how to be happy or unhappy, how to treat thy neighbor or thy neighbor's dog or how to make or keep friends, enemies, etc.

Therefore, instead of adding to the heap, the above little rante & rave shall remain the first infinite wisdom of the year. That's all, folks!

– Leonard Blumfeld

No fury like one scorned

So you don’t like my gift?
Well, let me tell you
that a lot of others
have liked my gifts,
and they were smaller
than this one I gave you,
less smelly, less offensive,
less aggressive, not
nearly as loud and dirty.
So I’ll tell you what
you can do with this gift
of mine you don’t like –
you can throw it
in the nearest ditch
and kiss me good-bye
forever, you jackass,
see if I give a toss.

– Leonard “Giver of Gifts” Blumfeld (© 2012)

Posted as a 'gift' for Poets United.

My Nature Haiku

Damn Nature! Why does
it include mosquitoes, a-
phids, gnats, bats and moths?

– Leonard “Loves Nature” Blumfeld (© 2012)

The call at Haiku Heights was for haiku on Nature. Not to be taken all that seriously – in fact, I quite like bats.

Feeding the birds at EUR lake

For S.

Last Saturday the women
of the Gugnani clan
and I as their chauffeur
went to EUR lake
to feed dry bread
and chocolate-coated
rice crispies to the birds –
droves of ducks, geese,
pigeons and seagulls.
I was reminded of my
mother and how, even
during her last days
at home, her first priority
in the morning was
to feed the birds, come
sunshine, ice or snow.
I remembered how
she'd walk out
on that terrace in
slippers and gown,
oblivious of everything
except the birds
and the seeds
she had for them.
I cried for her,
perhaps the first time
since she died in 2009.

– Leonard "Loaded with Memories" Blumfeld

A poem a day

... keeps the doctor away.

Well, hopefully that mutation of the apple proverb is true because I'm about to go insane and definitely do not want to see THAT doctor.

What is causing bouts of insanity?

WORK.

Translation of a list of terms for a well-known tractor company, to be precise.

Whatever variants of whatever you could come up with they have come up with.

And all nice and cryptic, like:

HVAC door open (low side output)

I'd be so happy to never ever again have to deal with an HVAC and whatever high or low side and input or output it might have.

– Leonard "Disgruntled" Blumfeld

Proverbs from the Chinese XI

"Be brisk and detached today, otherwise you'll be miserable."

That's a fortune cookie piece of advice that is surprisingly concrete and could not possibly be meant for just any day!

Happens to contain the words brisk, detached and miserable from 3WW.

Yours sincerely,

Leonard "Wisdoms of Ancient China" Blumfeld

Self-portrait with thinning hair

– Leonard "Kissed" Blumfeld

Well, hair actually getting tousled by the fan...

Dry spell

This has been the longest dry spell for me in years – I haven't written a thing in weeks. And it seems like it's been much longer than that.

But a lot has happened as well.

I have moved to Rome, Italy, from Germany. That took an enormous amount of preparation and moving. Not to mention the fact that I'm not even fully moved in and just getting a feeling for my new environment.

All combined with working nearly full time as well...

More later!

The wasp haiku

Give me an open
bakery door to fly in and
suck on those sweet things.

– Leonard "Impersonator" Blumfeld

Notes
Have carried this in mind ever since Saturday, when I went to a bakery in the morning and found lots of the black-and-yellow warriors grazing away on the pastries.

Proverbs from the Chinese X

Do not let yourself be drawn to uneasy crumble today.

Another fortune cookie text to leave me slightly perplexed. What is "uneasy crumble", and why should one not be drawn to it today? (Tomorrow might be ok, I guess.)

Once again, this coincides with the three words from 3WW – crumble, drawn, uneasy.

– Leonard "Crumble" Blumfeld

Philosophical dollop

One should observe the significant
and ignore the trivial.

So what am I doing here
ignoring the significant and observing the trivial?

– Leonard "Muzing" Blumfeld (© 2012)

Poets United had a vice versa challenge to which this mixture of the trivial and the significant pays tribute.

Portrait of the artist as a working dog

Here I sit,
a working lump,
safely turning into
a cantankerous old grump.

– Leonard "Lumpy" Blumfeld (© 2012)

Sparse reality

Tired, stomach's my most active part

Had 2 much 4 lunch
Followed by ice cream
That's 2 times 2 much

– Leonard Blumfeld

Two truculent ball attendants overheard

Mathilda showed up in her roo costume.
"Not good for waltzing, Matty," said John,
who himself had on his body costume.
Replied Mathilda, "Thank you, John Brown.
Yours definitely has me beat – it is
the very best for moldering in the grave."

– Leonard "Truculent" Blumfeld (© 2012)

The word at Sunday Scribblings was costume.

The loud neighborhood haiku

Joy enjoys the joy
of her own noise, much more than that
of the neighbor boys.

– Felix Morgenstern (© 2012)

Posted for Haiku Heights and Joy.

Proverbs from the Chinese IX

Jingle does not vindidate error.

This piece of wisdom from a fortune cookie is typically cryptically Chinese once again and fits in perfectly with 3WW and the current choice of words to write about: error, vindicate and jingle.

What does it mean? What kind of jingle would be likely to vindicate anything in the first place? The situation presented appears to be preposterous.

Oh well, there's always a chance the Chinese original actually made sense and was translated using Google Translate...

Yours sincerely,

Leonard Blumfeld

Last day in May, 2012

They're certainly chirpy out there,
sitting on their branches
and communicating for the sheer hell of it
(or so it seems to one
who doesn't speak a word
of their language),
while there's no communication at all
in this office, with everyone
staring at their screen quietly
and firing off the occasional typing staccato.
I wonder what they think about us
when they peer inside.
What a boring existence, they might say,
with not a chirp or twitter.
We have no clue what it's all about,
but we certainly are fitter.

– Leonard "Impersonator of Sparrows" Blumfeld (© 2012)

Flaming crimson

My verse is a clear green
And a flaming crimson.
My verse is a wounded fawn
Seeking refuge on the mountain.

Posted for One Single Impression and Crimson.

This verse from the song Guantanamera came to my mind instantly when I read the prompt.
An interesting article on the origins of the song can be found here.
The English wording is my own version, mostly based on what I remember from Pete Seeger's rendering of the song. Further associated reading: Seeking Refuge.
The Spanish is:

Mi verso es de un verde claro
Y de un carmín encendido.
Mi verso es de un ciervo herido
Que busca en el monte amparo.

– Leonard "Flaming Crimson" Blumfeld

Dazed spring day

It's a dazed kind of spring day.
The sky out there is a noncommittal grey.
The birds in their trees deliver muted chirps.
Everyone's in the office,
staring at their screen,
nodding along with key clicks (that's Pete),
head in hand (that's Daniella),
hand to nose (that's Andrea),
traipsing back from canteen loaded with coffee and snacks (that's Sasha),
exited to do things more amusing (that's Rita).
And I'm the dazed and proud observer of all this.

– Leonard "Once Again Razor Edge" Blumfeld

Notes
Today's the 1st anniversary of my relationship with S. – it all started a year ago with the first e-mail exchange – and would have been my father's 99th birthday. The horoscope told me today was good for meditation. Feels like it. Except that now conversation in the office has picked up. Andrea put a crown and cloak on her owl. This had to be reported.

Tepid day, late April

Work and the world are going by –
Rita makes a paper butterfly.


– Leonard "Keen Observer" Blumfeld (© 2011)

Razor edge of time poetic reporting from the workplace.

A Japanese E-Novel

"Oh but Hiroto, where's the draft of the novel you promised for today?"
"Sorry, Louise, I've been preoccupied with looking for a life partner, and you know that it's not easy for us expatriates."
"Yes, you've mentioned it before."
"It's taken away my serenity."
"Your serenity?"
"Yes, and I can't write without. Neither can I without a life partner."
"But I thought you'd found one."
"Yes, I thought I'd located one, from Osaka. But it turns out she expects me to pay for her health insurance. That would be like a thousand euros a month."
"I see."
"No, you don't see, Louise. Ever since Fukushima there have been so many Japanese women just waiting to leave the country. All in search of eligible expatriate bachelors like me. Airline stewardesses, for example."
"Then it should be possible to find someone else."
"I'm writing e-mails every day."
"That's why the novel is not progressing, I imagine."
"I'm not serene, I'm not within my senses, Louise."
"You could turn your e-mails into a novel. In a modern day revival of the epistolary novel."
"It's an idea."
"You could weave your weapon collection into it, and your knowledge of martial arts. Start emphasizing these in your mails to the ladies."
"I sold all my weapons on E-Bay. However, I bought myself a saxophone."
"Jazz is all right, too. You could call your e-pistolary novel Akiko and the Saxophone Man, or Health Insurance Rewarded."
"Why that?"
"It's a takeoff on Pamela, or Virtue Rewarded, the beststelling novel in letters of all times. You told me your flame's name was Akiko. And there's the health insurance issue, you said."
"Exactly. But I'm not willing to pay a thousand a month. Not for any woman."
"You won't have a problem with that, Hiroto, once your novel gets published."
"Thanks, Louise. Some of my serenity may be coming back. You've given my creativity a new direction."
"Keep cranking out those e-mails, Hiroto. One hundred and eighty pages of draft in a week?"
"It's a deal, Louise."

– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2012)

Based on a true story. Contains draft, locate and serenity from 3WW.

Hype is hard to justify with a growl

I walked over to the table where the shaddy sheeplegger had just sat down.
"What can I do you for, sir?"
Sheepleggers from the planet of Arce generally seem to react well to some sense of humor. Not this one:
"If I'z in the mood fer yokes, kitty, you'll knew it. To-die iz not wanna doze dies. Quet me some of yer hype, and makes it snoppy, will yer?"
With its huge amount of calories, artificial colorants and flavorings and transfatty acids, hype is one of the favorite slops on the menu of the Latter Day Survivors of the Universe Café, where I happen to work.
I could not suppress a growl, which is my natural feline reaction when rubbed the wrong way.
"Quet yer thin arce quoin, kitz, befer I grab ye by yer frilly tail."
"You try that, Mr. Sheep, and you'll have a few claws in your shaddy fur."
"Ye quet me that hype, or I'll choinge my moind and werk outta here unfad, and ye ken ferget my tipz."
I hissed, as it is our feline custom, and walked away to fill his order.
Unfortunately, customers are few and far between nowadays, ever since that terrible war between the Cats of the East, the Gnats of the West, the Rats of the North and the Bats of the South. It's gotten so bad that we now have to serve those we used to eat. It's gotten so bad that I'd probably have to justify my catty behavior towards this horn-shoed oaf from the planet of Arce to my boss, that big-balled ape from the planet of Farce.

– Leonard "Looking towards the Future" Blumfeld (© 2012)

Written around growl, hype and justify from 3WW.

Flowering

My inbox in white
exuberant bloom this spring
as never before.

– Leonard "Florescent" Blumfeld (© 2011)

Written for One Single Impression and inbox.

Note
The inbox is a variety of box distinguished by its small, fragrant white flowers.

Fragrant

For S.

Still,
after so many years,
that flowery perfume
encountered
on anyone
anywhere
will jostle up remnants
of a love
long buried.

Don't worry –
that love
has been resting in peace
and does not
compete with yours.

– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2012)

Written around fragrant, jostle, remnant from 3WW.

Proverbs from the Chinese VIII

True nurture will not be provided by even the most diligent amateur.

– Translated from the Chinese by Leonard Blumfeld

Notes
Fits in nicely with today's choice of words from 3WW: amateur, diligent, nurture.
I'm not sure whether I agree with the statement. There's love in the effort of amateurs (as the word implies), which may be lacking in professionals. Why should an amateur's love not nurture?

A what's around haiku

Keyboard, mouse, empty
coffee cup with spoon, spiral
agenda. Time stagnant.

– Leonard "Once Again Japan" Blumfeld (© 2012)

Genesis notes
You sit and look at what's around you, make a selection and a haiku out of it. That simple.

The miracle dichotomy

"What would you rather have as a miracle –
a world free of strife and war
or personal happiness?" Suzanna's guru asked

She brought the question home to her non-believer boyfriend

"Let me see any kind of miracle
before I decide on that one,"
said Jeff the sceptic

"That's typical you," she yowled,
"all you try and do is take the wind out of my sails."

"No wind, no sails that I see,"
said laconic Jeff

"Why have I been putting up with you

for so many years, Jeff? A man
with such a flat view of the world?"

"That is a miracle, I agree,"
said grinning Jeff

– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2012)

The topic at One Single Impression was miracle.

Yolanda of the baffling glitter

Yolanda had a baffling glitter
around her big blue eyes.
She thought this made her fitter
than one would realize.

Most days she'd concentrate
on elegance of looks
and rather did negate
the importance of science books.

The teachers did not go for glitter,
so in her exams she fared not well.
This made Yolanda very bitter.
She told 'em they should go to hell.

– Felix Morgenstern (© 2012)

Written around baffle, elegant and negate from 3WW.

This is a modern poem

It is trendy and online,
knows what iPad and iPhone are
and was written
while eating an apple.

– Leonard "Modernist" Blumfeld (© 2012)

Written upon inspiration by Sunday Scribblings.

Haiku of the lost tribe

The tribe is lost. Not
enough magnetism. Outcast
searching for new tribe.

– Leonard "Tribal" Blumfeld (© 2012)

Sort of a continuation of Qasida of the lost tribe. Cryptic, I know.

Sometimes, due to tribal instinct, you search for love in the wrong tribe. In this case it happened to a dear friend.

Snowdrops / A. D. Miller

(Warning: This is a more or less polemic blurb without any claim to thoroughness or completeness.)

Finished reading Snowdrops this weekend, a novel about a British lawyer who becomes involved in fraud in his work for an investment bank, and, in private, in a case of apartment fraud as a consequence of falling in love with a mysterious Russian woman.

So what's true about the hype?
'Totally gripping' – more ho-hum than gripping. Took me numerous sessions to read and is certainly not one of the potboilers you cannot put down.
'Disturbing and dazzling' – draws a disturbing picture of Russia and Moscow. Greatly reduced my readiness to ever go there.
'Electrifying ... Leaves you stunned and addicted' – That opinion, pardon my bluntness, is a striking example of pure bullshit. Seems more appropriate to LSD, heroin or some other drug than anything written.

As it says on the back cover, there is some similarity to the writing of Graham Greene, but more along the lines of imitation. Neither the writing itself nor the plot are that good. There is that Greene-like feeling of guilt, but there's so much insistence on building it that it becomes annoying. The confessionality (the story is told as a confession to the hero's fiancée) is also reminiscent of Greene, except that it never comes alive, so to speak, because the person the story is told to remains nondescript, making the whole device seem irrelevant.

Then there's that constant puerile harping about how awful it is to be older than thirty. (I believe a lot of people have successfully moved on even into their forties or fifties.) And the annoying premonition building (along the lines of 'I should have known better then that ...', 'Had I not ...') that seems to come straight out of a fiction writing workshop manual. And then there are all the attempts to humanize inanimate objects with adjectives that mostly didn't do much for me. That's the literary touch, I suppose.

A third plot line – pretty much unrelated to the other two – is about the body of an old man found in a rusty orange Zhiguli (mentioned umpteen times in the course of the novel to make it absolutely clear that it has to have some significance).

You may rest in peace, Graham. This ain't no serious competition for The Third Man or The Quiet American.

– Leonard "Won't Write Reviews" Blumfeld

Sails in the Sunset

Now if you'd drop that stupid demand to get close to Crinkle Island, I'd be happy to navigate you all to that forsaken part of the beautiful stormy South Seas, my friends.

As to Norah Femme Fatale, however, I'd rather not have her on board because she might try to persuade me after all. And we all know from Italy how that can end.

– Captain Leonard Blumfeld (© 2012)

Written around crinkle, demand and navigate from 3WW.

A blatant derivative of the Costa Concordia disaster.

China's Wonderland Turned Horrorland

The Disneyland copy planned outside the gates of Beijing never materialized because the owners of the land asked for more money. All the amusement park has to offer are a few ruins and skeletons of buildings quietly decaying in a barren landscape. Good news for the farmers who used to farm here and were to make space for China's move into the world of Amusotopia. They're coming back.