Page-turning haiku

Twenty eleven
Turn the page, with one last look
Over my shoulder

Blizzards buried us
More than once, driveway projects
Made shovel ready

Japan’s sakura
Wept nuclear tears after
Quakes and tsunami

Drought ravaged Texas
Floods swept Brazil while “leaders”
Denied climate change

Liz Taylor, Steve Jobs
Amy Winehouse, Peter Falk
Among those who died

Special Forces sent
Osama bin Laden on
To his great reward

Hitchens, Havel left
Had the decency to take
Kim Jong-il with them

Plenty of births, too
Planet passed 7 billion
Yearning to be free

That yearning filled streets
Egypt, Libya, Syria
Southern Sudan vote

9-11 had
Its 10th anniversary
Our troops left Iraq

Tea Party revolt
Upset balance perversely
Protecting the rich

Occupy Wall Street
Righted debate, spotlighted
Fairness and excess

President pushed back
In a Kansas town, found voice,
Fought for the workers

And billions woke up
Every day — worked, laughed, cried, loved
Kept the world turning

Mysteries will unfold
Let us greet them without fear
Twenty twelve awaits

“Hits just keep on coming” haiku

December thirty
One of those days music’s born,
Reborn, many forms

Start with Bo Diddley
Born McComb, Mississippi
Raised in Chicago

Soon swapped violin
For guitar — Gospel music
For John Lee Hooker

First single a hit:
#1 with “Bo Diddley”
Flip side: “I’m a Man”

Co-wrote “Love Is Strange”
For Mickey and Sylvia
Lots of his own hits

1963
Dig this bill: Bo, Everlys
And Little Richard

Opening same bill
Some big-lipped guy and a band
Called the Rolling Stones

Buddy Holly, Stones
Borrowed Bo’s beat, Tom Petty,
Others paid tribute

Opened for the Clash,
Played ’94 “Voodoo” gig
For a Stones broadcast

Two thousand seven
Said “I’m going to heaven”
Bo’s beat finally stopped

Who’s next? Del Shannon
Runaway hit “Runaway”
Instant #1

“Runaway’s” key sound?
The Musitron, invented
By his keyboardist

Never hit that mark
Again, though. His falsetto
Searching for the truth

Wrote other great songs
Peter and Gordon’s yearning
“I Go to Pieces”

Produced and arranged
Helped Bob Seger get this start
Back in Michigan

Others helped in turn
Dave Edmunds, TP, Jeff Lynne
Produced works by Del

But his music died
In the depths of depression
Del took his own life

Men born on this date
In 1937
Shaped folk and bluegrass

Paul Stookey a part
Of Peter, Paul & Mary
Folk music’s pop stars

His signature work
“The Wedding Song (There Is Love)”
Cleave to this classic

Paul was raised Buddhist
Became Christian, spread great love
Hard work, good causes

John Hartford was born
Of all places in New York
Where no bluegrass grows

But his family moved
To St. Louis, where his love
For rivers was born

Mark Twain with banjo
Fiddle, guitar, clog dancing
Music old and new

“Gentle on My Mind”
Another perfect song, hit
For him, Glen Campbell

Launched “Aereo-Plain”
Then helped Sam Bush and others
Make bluegrass “new grass”

John also revered
Appalachia and Ozarks
Old music, old hills

Loved riverboats, too
Had pilot’s license, used it
So many summers

Mystic current through
Everything John Hartford knew
And he tapped it well

Next up, two Monkees
Mike Nesmith and Davy Jones
Born three years apart

Ah, darling Davy
Child TV star, then trained
To be a jockey

But the stage beckoned
“Oliver’s” artful dodger
Made him a real star

Ed Sullivan Show
Had “Oliver’s” cast, same night
Of Beatles’ debut

Girls all went crazy
Davy knew what he wanted
Monkees made it true

Mike made Monkees too
But with a low-key approach
And wool stocking cap

Already written
For others, “Mary, Mary”
And “Different Drum”

The Pre-Fab Four did
His “You Just May Be the One,”
Some others he wrote

Glad when group ended
Went his own way and released
Some country-rock gems

“Some of Shelly’s Blues”
“Joanne” and “Propinquity”
The guy can write ’em

Other trivia:
Fortune from mom’s invention
Of Liquid Paper

Also born this date:
Poet Patti Smith, priestess
Of “Because the Night”

ELO’s Jeff Lynne
A master of melody
Sought in studios

ELO scored hits
Lynne wrote and sang great though I
Never loved that sound

To me his best work
Came later with Wilburys,
Harrison, Petty

Those many fine discs
Showed off talents, touch, flair for
Collaboration

Harmonic mystery
As the year wanes, the stars align
December thirty

“You can’t win, Amal” haiku

Gangs of roving youth
Terrorize shoppers at Mall
Of America

But what better place
For mega food fight than Mall
Of America?

Pad Thai, burritos
Pasta, meatballs, pot stickers
Cheeseburgers all trashed

Dozens of kids throw
Melting pot of ethnic fare
Cops say for no cause

How about they judged
All that Food Court “food” guilty
Of fraud, price gouging?

In touch with inner
John Belushi, meted out
Justice with chaos

Juvy detention
Or coronary arrest?
Not a tasty choice

Abecedarian haiku, redux

A few of these appeared first as part of an alphabetical string by the Facebook group Bad Haiku, of which I am a proud (?!) member. I felt challenged (Yeah, he’s challenged all right …) to do a series of my own, for which no one else would have to share the blame. These originally escaped in two batches, Aug.23 and 24.

Anything Aztecs
Achieved animatedly
Augmented action

Blake's behemoth


Bemused Blake bargains,
Buys big Biblical banner
Behemoth bisects

Crude, crass carnivore
Creeps, canters, cavorts, crashes,
Consumes carnally

Debauched demimonde
Deliciously declaiming
Decadent design

Effusive Edgar
Exceeding expectations
Exuberantly

Freaking fast Frederick
Filched filigreed finial
From Fannie’s fiefdom

Gregarious Greg
Gratefully going gaga,
Gorgeously gonzo

Hack’s hackneyed haiku
Hitting horrifying heights,
Haunting headhunters

Iphigenia’s
Ignominious igloo
Incited Iceland

Judicious Jutland’s
Justified jeremiad
Jolts jaded jackass

Kinetic karma:
Kamikaze Kangaroo
Kicks karate kin

Lass, laughter lilting,
Lightheartedly limning lines,
Lightens lover’s load

Monsanto musings:
Mystical mutant mustard?
Manifold mystique!

Native nasturtiums


Nina’s nifty nose
Nonchalantly noticing
Native nasturtiums

Octopus orders
Oriental opposite
Occidentally

Pampered pet pooches,
Plump, primped, partake plentiful
Porterhouse platter

Questioning quisling’s
Questionable qualities
Quite queasy quandary

Recumbent redhead
Risks rapidly receding
Reclines recklessly

Sibilant siblings
Steve, Sara, Sasha, Sonia
Sounding simply swell

Tall tales titillate
Tantalize, taunt temptingly
True trash to treasure

Unassumingly
Undulating undertow,
Unfathomable

Venerable van
Vaunted versatility
Valued vehicle

Which witch witchingly
Watches wastrels waste whiskey,
Wishing wistfully

Xerxes, Xenophon
X-ray Xeroxed xylographs
Xenophilicly

Yesteryear’s yearnings
Yellowing yearbooks yonder
Yoke your yesterdays

Zero, zenith, zilch
Ziggy zigzags zealously
Zooming zanily

And from the Squad Squad and the Department of Redundancy Department, one that was censored from the original batch:

Unabashedly
Undulating underwear
Unconscionable!

Christmas

Whatever your faith
Each child born’s a miracle
Sacred and human

Feed them and love them
Keep them safe and warm that they
May learn, grow, love too

Christ said what we do
To the poorest among us
We do to the Lord

See in each other
Redemption and salvation
Existence divine

I say that’s the Christ
I hope to keep in Christmas
This day, and all year

“Wanna see my iPhone’s lampshade app?” haiku

Office party time
As if you don’t see enough
Of your co-workers

The Mistletoe Zone
Heaven or hell depending
On who’s there with you

Guess X marks the mass
Of folks sucking down free booze,
Costco canapes

And punch, our favorite
If you’re asking what we’d like
To do to the boss

Gee, I didn’t know
She could dance like THAT, didn’t
Know anyone could

And I thought tables
Were for setting our drinks on
I’d say she showed me

At least I know how
To hold my liquor — upraised,
Pinkie extended

Thank God the DJ’s
Really horrendous, or else
We’d be here all night

Office party time
At least once a year our firm’s
A well-oiled machine

“Before they make me run” haiku

Keith Richards stones me
Still my little rock ‘n’ roll
Guitar, the amps, soul

Keith turns 68
Not quite as old as he looks
But he’s gaining ground

Rock’s reigning duo
Nearly half a century
Keith’s wrinkles, Mick’s lips

Dartford, Kent, birthplace
Of both Glimmer Twins; must be
Something in water

Sang in school trio
As a lad. How well? One time
They gigged for the queen

Rebel kids should know
Working class mum named Doris
Bought Keith’s first guitar

And his grandpa Gus
(Billed “Gus Dupree and His Boys”)
An inspiration

So were folks’ records
Satchmo and Duke Ellington,
Billie Holiday

Scotty Moore and Chuck
Caught Keith’s ear; he developed
His own classic style

No flashy solos
Likes having a guitar mate
“The … art of weaving”

So some overlook
That’s he’s one of the greatest
Chords, rhythm, best riffs

Acoustic guitars
Amped to sound electric, drive
Some of rock’s great songs

Yeah, “Jumpin’ Jack Flash,”
“Street Fighting Man,” guitars
Acoustic all through

Don’t forget he writes
The great songs, too, with Jagger
No end to the hits

Knows he’s channeling
Life’s deeper mysteries, says he’s
“Antenna … not God”

Not his job to sing
But he does that too, I say
He’s got the silver

Earned his bad boy rep
Drug charges used to hound him
All around the world

Once fell out of tree
Cracked his coconut, delayed
A Stones tour six weeks

But he’s cleaned up act
Relatively, anyway
The last few decades

Yeah, today’s also
Wedding anniversary
#28

He’s well read, would like
To be a librarian!
Helps good causes, too

Survivors like him
Often have depth, many sides
A lot going on

Keith — a man in full
It just goes to show you what
Clean living can do

Keith was the last main Stone unturned for me, though I haven’t written about Brian Jones, Mick Taylor, Ron Wood, Ian Stewart and some others. The earlier sets on Mick and the release of “Exile” have plenty to do with Keith, too. You can find them here by plugging “No moss” into the little search slot on the upper right of this page, along with my string on Charlie Watts. And type in “Bill Wyman” if you want to read about him.

Pathetique haiku

Beethoven’s birthday
And what’s the great man up to?
Why, decomposing

How come Beethoven
Seldom could find his teacher?
‘Cause he was Haydn

But seriously,
“Inexhaustible genius”
Defined Beethoven

Say “buh-bup-uh-BUH”
Chances are you heard the start
Of Beethoven’s 5th

Should anyone doubt
Music’s power to move us
Play some Beethoven

Almost anything
Beethoven wrote should stir them
If not, check their pulse

You don’t have to “get”
Classical music — I don’t —
You just have to hear

Soaring symphonies
Tender sonatas, quartets
Spanning all feelings

And he wrote so much
While going deaf, and after.
Can you imagine?

Thought of suicide
Thought better, and persevered
More masterpieces

Conducting the 9th
Couldn’t hear the ovation
He turned, saw — and wept

The human story
Pain, sorrow, inspiration
Spirit triumphant