Sunday, January 10, 2021

A multilingual rain haiku

Rain. Regen. बारिश.

Pioggia. All day long il

pleut. ¡Para, lluvia!

– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2021)

Note
Let’s hope this multilingual admonishment will help to put an end to the endless rain.

Sunday, January 3, 2021

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.

Sunday, December 20, 2020

Poltava to Lviv, January 17, 1942

Field marshal, felled by
stroke while jogging at minus 
forty. Passed on plane.

– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2020)

Note
Refers to German field marshal Walter von Reichenau, responsible for the massacre at Babi Yar in 1941. Reichenau was an enthusiastic supporter of sports and went on cross-country runs regularly. Having died in 1942, Reichenau was never convicted of war crimes but most certainly would have had he survived WWII. 
This haiku was indirectly inspired by reading about Yevgeny Yevtushenko’s poem Babiyy Yar (1961), which is about the massacre. 

Thursday, December 10, 2020

A lesser known Neruda quote

And when I swanned myself again, I had become my own swimmer, my own beak.

Attributed to Chilean poet Pablo Neruda, translator and source unknown.

Notes
Came across this on a social network page today that, going by its other postings, is a jumble of things gleaned from here and there and anywhere. Of course, there was no mention of a source or context. Therefore it’s quite possible that someone made this up and attributed it to a famous poet to elevate its importance.

Tuesday, November 24, 2020

Another instructional haiku


Silence, when getting
too heavy, must be relieved.
How about a shriek?

– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2020)

Note
Actually, I was going to write about my own silence getting too heavy, i.e. not writing was taking on monstrous proportions. The shriek therefore is this haiku. More of the unheard kind. Like one from the stone monster above.

Photo by Johannes Beilharz, taken at the Monster Park in Bomarzo, Italy.

Friday, November 13, 2020

Monday, October 19, 2020

The desperate letters haiku

 


Writing half-withered
letters to Sea, the under-
standing blue houseplant

– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2020)

Note:
Inspired by a haiku by N. Gutierrez, turned inside out and deformed in other ways.

Photo by Antonio Grosz on Unsplash

Tuesday, October 6, 2020

The James Schuyler haiku

 


He had Brahms and Bruno 
Walter – both long dead – engaged in
lively conversation.

– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2020)

Note
All true! See James Schuyler’s poem A Man in Blue from Freely Espousing (1969).

Bruno Walter, conductor and pianist (1876-1962)
Johannes Brahms, composer, pianist, conductor (1833-1897)

Sunday, October 4, 2020

My life as a hunter and gatherer


was short-lived. I could 
not kill animals and found 
only acorns to eat.

– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2020)

Note
There are some, mostly male chauvinists, who proclaim that they were meant to be hunters (while women were meant to be gatherers, of course) and that the failure of many men in current society can be explained by the alienation that is due to them not being able to go after their hunting business. So I pictured this return to nature for myself for a second, did a mental reality check and quickly returned to contemporary amenities (for example, a computer to write and publish stuff).

Wednesday, September 23, 2020

The dark day haiku


Carry a flashlight
to walk the streets of Rome – it
is that dark today.

– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2020)

Note
The truth and nothing but. The seemingly endless scorchers of summer 2020 have come to a dark and wet end for the time being.