11,041 vagabonds plus:
Street vendor caisson
Secret of life in full bloom
Flowering wind chimes
photo by the Seeberger Brothers - Jules (1872-1932) Louis (1874-1946) and Henri (1876-1956)
And, as always, all 17 syllables picked for 'recuerda mi corazon', exclusive home of Haiku My Heart
To the left. Here.
Yes. Wait. No sense summoning the museum director. I will have turned my back once more before you return.
I am speaking to you. The fork was midway to my mouth when I felt you. But you already knew that. Who in their right mind paints a man shoveling slop to his pie hole? Ah, it's my claim for all eternity. My manners! Let me introduce myself.
I am François, your faithful servant.
I felt the brush of your delicate finger upon my elbow. Perhaps you doubted the four hundred year-old paint was not dry? Ah, better, a smile, yes. Such fine teeth!
You were deep in thought, a true connoisseur like my father, and his father before him, looking for minute significance of the brush of an eccentric to canvas. Let me assist you.
Our guest, Maurice here, is fascinated by, well, I believe you twenty-first centurions call it a kaleidoscope. Maurice, an intellectual scholar unable to tunnel his way out of a hessian sack, terms it, 'oh, look at the fancy colored light!'
That's my beautiful and precious sister, Tessy, opposite. She weeps over me daily. I admit - I wasn't going to talk to you but she kicked me when she saw you first. A beautiful girl. And let me introduce you to my hopeless brother-in-law, Conrad, a village idiot tactless enough to bring a lute to the supper table. Wouldn't be so bad if he played in the key that Angels sing, but, lo, or hark, as we say, he plucks away in the vicinity of the key of G. Probably for gravy. A cold gravy waltz. I just thought of that. Pretty swift, heh? My poor sister. He plays the French Horn in bed. Idiot.
Yes. I suppose it is time. Back to my fork. So tiresome even though dessert has finally arrived. You, a true connoisseur. Move along now.
You, going my way
Open sky, vagabond route
Two wandering hearts
Seligman, Arizona 1947
by Andreas Feininger
All 17 syllables dedicated to the wandering travelers at 'recuerda mi corazon,' exclusive home of Haiku My Heart
fine old relics
If I lose my place
Entomb my soul in old books
Amongst beloved prose
Step up for dinner
shove in illegal riff-faff
dash of tobasco
All 17 syllables dished out for 'recuerda mi corazon', exclusive home of Haiku My Heart
the films of Terrence Malick
It was out grazing peacefully in the rolling meadow beyond a hurried silent brook, down by the skeletal timbers of an old church with a solid bell tower and wild wheat-colored pampas grass shooting in bunches out of the crumbled stone walkway.
Lowering the binoculars to his chest, he raised the sight and sweatily squeezed one off, dropping the black beast. There wasn't a soul around to celebrate. It deserved a New Orleans-style funeral procession with plenty of cowbell, raspberrian tubas, and golden horns. Or a ticker tape parade. Ding Dong the beast was dead. He waved to the crowds lining the sidewalks that were no wheres to be seen. Not even a rolled-down proclamation read by the pasty Mayor of Munchkinland.
After awhile he felt empty, mighty lonesome. Then guilt was seeping in. He wept quietly. He murdered a hungry animal that was only guilty of being attracted to a Twinkie that a rather large lady was preparing to devour at a picnic table. Even in the throws of death the black beast was still showing angry teeth and when he moved in for a closer look-see, its open eyes startled him so he back peddled over an old rusty cast iron hand pump, tripped and accidentally squeezed another shot off. The bullet ricocheted off the bell waking two nesting pure white doves lazily brushing their outstretched wings against the hundred-year-old ancient bell, navigating into the blue with the precision of a sextant eastward in the direction of Assisi.
And they went together.
Smile of blue heaven
reunion of lustrous mates
oh go on, say cheese
Crescent Moon and Venus, with Mars to Venus' upper left, and Saturn right.
courtesy Jimmy Westlake
All 17 syllables dedicated to the stars at 'recuerda mi corazon', exclusive home of Haiku My Heart.
shoeless shunned orphan
milk and honey hobo dreams
nineteen thirty three
Clarence Holbrook Carter, 1941
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