tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-49928078269203138342024-03-13T10:26:57.780+00:00The Fifth HorsemanThe Fifth Horsemanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02564417662307432772noreply@blogger.comBlogger40125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4992807826920313834.post-40815688199073547242023-10-22T11:53:00.001+01:002023-10-22T11:53:55.612+01:00Lamentation Number Thirty Nine<div style="text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;">Something puzzled me as a very small boy, and my confusion has deepened ever since. I will try to explain the problem and at the same time respond (as I usually do, in Haiku form) to the the <a href="https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/2023/10/friday-writings-99-why.html" target="_blank">Poets and Storytellers' Friday prompt . . . </a></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;">WHY?</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEis0168YkxyRLKq1iw0ZSME_Wm9RRgWE_YLGKVZcMb-l7w_RUjW6AdsWi9slf2g0MMdBYGnABKGmBjcumENQkRVtD4sE2wxkHkUaMnAOOVJQXkfK6nuX0plVgx5d34yL_VH3sIZw6X9_pUlJhur2DOJNFmyCoW2RTIX3te7ZGSUBeOMZu9nAf8k_0l-o2I/s225/Unknown.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="225" data-original-width="225" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEis0168YkxyRLKq1iw0ZSME_Wm9RRgWE_YLGKVZcMb-l7w_RUjW6AdsWi9slf2g0MMdBYGnABKGmBjcumENQkRVtD4sE2wxkHkUaMnAOOVJQXkfK6nuX0plVgx5d34yL_VH3sIZw6X9_pUlJhur2DOJNFmyCoW2RTIX3te7ZGSUBeOMZu9nAf8k_0l-o2I/s1600/Unknown.jpeg" width="225" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Why did the chicken?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">It's said "Because the higher</div></div><div style="text-align: center;">the fewer." ??? Search me!</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Reminds me of a verse from the Rubyaiyat of Omar Khayyham:</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">'Myself when young did oft frequent</div><div style="text-align: center;">doctor and saint, and heard much argument</div><div style="text-align: center;">about it and about. But evermore</div><div style="text-align: center;">went out by the selfsame door I came in.'</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"> . . . and I hope that makes everything clear.</div><p style="text-align: center;"><br /></p><p style="text-align: center;"><br /></p><p style="text-align: center;"><br /></p><p style="text-align: center;"><br /></p><p><br /></p>The Fifth Horsemanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02564417662307432772noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4992807826920313834.post-23849267074056975432023-09-15T21:11:00.014+01:002023-09-15T21:31:40.428+01:00Lamentation Number Thirty Eight<p style="text-align: center;"><b>No Use Crying . . . </b></p><div style="text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOUpg4SOs-55GH-zMYI7ZySlG4G2xnCN-XTupri2X4fyolzz7HwbmKrnVEjLxKpuWt9bEFb4Qt0_r7_fOA_7PEau5FBWo8Uh0-TG-kh1Y83AScvOYCdCR_ZWUBsXpHg_m4ekStC2Kle3RnOP9V04HxOczhfUZotRd_TQmbPOU1bHUVu27-i9Yu_hDjqMQ/s259/images.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="195" data-original-width="259" height="195" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOUpg4SOs-55GH-zMYI7ZySlG4G2xnCN-XTupri2X4fyolzz7HwbmKrnVEjLxKpuWt9bEFb4Qt0_r7_fOA_7PEau5FBWo8Uh0-TG-kh1Y83AScvOYCdCR_ZWUBsXpHg_m4ekStC2Kle3RnOP9V04HxOczhfUZotRd_TQmbPOU1bHUVu27-i9Yu_hDjqMQ/s1600/images.jpeg" width="259" /></a></div><br />Wrote love-letters. Spilt</div><div style="text-align: center;">black ink all over them. Stormed</div><div style="text-align: center;">out. (Fate always wins . . . )</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">This despondent haiku (5-7-5 syllables) is my response to Magaly's prompt on Poets&Storytellers United, where me were asked to reflect on <a href="https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/2023/09/friday-writings-94-storm-ink-love.html" target="_blank">Love, Ink and Storm</a>. What a recipe for heartache!</div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div>The Fifth Horsemanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02564417662307432772noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4992807826920313834.post-6397766873049687282023-09-08T11:19:00.001+01:002023-09-08T16:32:43.018+01:00Lamentation Number Thirty Seven<div style="text-align: center;"><b>Haiku In Memory</b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinHjUOk248N48kQERt-KH6nC3GzF3VMeyjr1UDY-xNorzfSwoxaOgd12USuyB2fcu6bH_4QxJot3s5LXdYcQwYRH9-UCRpXyDZPYuqNW1DF5Q9_qaivrLdyyTVhTRiIAduFNGr0xd0lZjmHySh07XQUkaZY-h06FPvDPrNkz74VChNabmGnAJ8mVxQS78/s521/Parfum.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="521" data-original-width="503" height="268" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinHjUOk248N48kQERt-KH6nC3GzF3VMeyjr1UDY-xNorzfSwoxaOgd12USuyB2fcu6bH_4QxJot3s5LXdYcQwYRH9-UCRpXyDZPYuqNW1DF5Q9_qaivrLdyyTVhTRiIAduFNGr0xd0lZjmHySh07XQUkaZY-h06FPvDPrNkz74VChNabmGnAJ8mVxQS78/w259-h268/Parfum.png" width="259" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div>Girls in my youth wore</div><div style="text-align: center;">Blue Grass, Lenthérique. All gone!</div><div style="text-align: center;">(like my sense of smell . . .)</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">This week, Rosemary invites us to write <a href="https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/2023/09/friday-writings-93-scent-of-poem.html">about fragrance, perfume</a>, all that delights (or dismays) the olfactory sense. Alas . . . age has reduced mine to almost zero. As noted here.</div>The Fifth Horsemanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02564417662307432772noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4992807826920313834.post-6486913378699367392023-09-01T06:05:00.003+01:002023-09-02T19:09:38.965+01:00Lamentation Number Thirty Six<div style="text-align: center;"><b>A Sundered Haiku </b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-GFqoY8Ina5RBgPnJW3pMj_MkwswfDVaFoDHXjcmvVo_7-ar54XOCQ0lFcNt2kyjLptW9zy9A1rluKZXyuF1iR7yZFwy5Be95WA6XCeH6cMAca8mb5T6U3nXdjxAOrBdZgU6qqPf-77NHpwdM0aA7W09zT7ZamCIUgmPTVfdw0TXcguttgZ2zj325ItQ/s266/images.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="190" data-original-width="266" height="190" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-GFqoY8Ina5RBgPnJW3pMj_MkwswfDVaFoDHXjcmvVo_7-ar54XOCQ0lFcNt2kyjLptW9zy9A1rluKZXyuF1iR7yZFwy5Be95WA6XCeH6cMAca8mb5T6U3nXdjxAOrBdZgU6qqPf-77NHpwdM0aA7W09zT7ZamCIUgmPTVfdw0TXcguttgZ2zj325ItQ/s1600/images.jpeg" width="266" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div>Marriage to divorce,</div><div style="text-align: center;">from triumph to disaster -</div><div style="text-align: center;">win-win for lawyers.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #ffa400;">Always good to see Divorce triumphing over the disaster of Love gone wonky, so here is an illustration of the idea in response to the <a href="https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/2023/09/friday-writings-92-triumph-or-disaster.html" target="_blank">Poets and Storytellers </a>weekly prompt.</span></div>The Fifth Horsemanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02564417662307432772noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4992807826920313834.post-9549660923401785272023-08-25T08:19:00.000+01:002023-08-25T08:19:19.109+01:00Lamentation Thirty Five (*)<div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #cc0000;">A pessimist's response to Poets & Storytellers asking for our <a href="https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/2023/08/muscle-memory.html" target="_blank">'muscle memories.'</a></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><br /></b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b>Haiku(s) In Memoriam.</b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><br /></b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b>Verses</b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">In times past muscles</div><div style="text-align: center;">served me well. Swung hammers, dug</div><div style="text-align: center;">ditches, built railroads.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Then I took to drink,</div><div style="text-align: center;">Swapped my six-pack for tinnies</div><div style="text-align: center;">Swing the elbow now.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Can still crush empties</div><div style="text-align: center;">with one hand, (though not full ones</div><div style="text-align: center;">like weightlifters can.)</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Punning on 'can' there!</div><div style="text-align: center;">Did you note? 'Cans' and 'Tinnies'?</div><div style="text-align: center;">(I'll get me coat)</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b>Chorus</b>. (Sing after each verse)</div><div style="text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: center;">Biceps, triceps, quads and pects</div><div style="text-align: center;">all reduced to flabby wrecks</div></div><p style="text-align: center;"><br /></p><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #ffa400;">(*) Followers, friends and fans might be wondering what happened to Lamentation Thirty Four. '34' is one of the gloomiest integers in the number field from minus to plus infinity, along with 369 and 1000000000000066600000000000001(**) I'm sure you can work out why. Thus it seemed prudent to miss 34 out.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #ffa400;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #ffa400;">(**) Known as 'Belphegor's Prime.' It is too! It's prime! Check it out. Also - 2 sequences of 13 zeroes and 'the sign of the beast, 666' in the middle, AND it's palindromic. If that doesn't depress you . . . </span></div>The Fifth Horsemanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02564417662307432772noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4992807826920313834.post-64536841686549169652023-08-18T12:07:00.002+01:002023-08-18T13:45:48.958+01:00Lamentation Thirty Three<p style="text-align: center;"> A Spongee(*) Haiku for a Cake With Teeth</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGW9FnKZnmuruby1LK0FmkCsyBgQ5DWzASIOhQvDzP-z86t_gfDAWLAHMMbHEDuMvS-Jr_U87571Cv8EWl28s5SVrnXWOXdd-wMUHtIcWNdzfH_lPz-lsgMemdC9DiL5cO0YlT1sPJinN_HBSKctD5GgSYfc_Y1D3w-OQ2Q4EwPMwcYZ5VRnpRSsh7pqo/s225/Unknown.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="225" data-original-width="225" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGW9FnKZnmuruby1LK0FmkCsyBgQ5DWzASIOhQvDzP-z86t_gfDAWLAHMMbHEDuMvS-Jr_U87571Cv8EWl28s5SVrnXWOXdd-wMUHtIcWNdzfH_lPz-lsgMemdC9DiL5cO0YlT1sPJinN_HBSKctD5GgSYfc_Y1D3w-OQ2Q4EwPMwcYZ5VRnpRSsh7pqo/s1600/Unknown.jpeg" width="225" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Had my cake. Ate it.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">From inside cake cried, "I'll get</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">back at you for that!"</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">(*) A 21st. century development of the 'spondee,' a two syllable poetic foot with equal stress on the syllables. Not much used now that 'free verse' has sidelined poetic rhythm.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">e.g. Spondee: Bus stop: Heat pump: Friday: Toothache: Football: Get It?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Posted in response to Rosemary Nissen-Wade's <a href="https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/2023/08/friday-wrings-90-food-andor-eating.html" target="_blank">dietary supplement HERE</a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><p><br /></p>The Fifth Horsemanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02564417662307432772noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4992807826920313834.post-58363457572783387292023-08-11T07:48:00.000+01:002023-08-11T07:48:06.381+01:00Lamentaton Thirty Two<h4 style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red; font-size: medium;">A Laugh or Craiku Haiku</span></h4><div><span style="color: red; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="color: red; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7DCY7vXjLyRHKeFAfY4tYln8Bz2Ltf0M0B_XlCdVwS8gHd06ARJlojmsm1wlw7oQxVUlicsZw7jsQxIjZ1I9-4r3fWi_FkaJ-17ETmY3eOGJ4clI-tVjmSF9QjOoSw3UpLrVnLHiS8OEREeb0Fk-uVMQDJR6PqrL7yj-MmbrcZbX70yEG1jVxfLxhcqU/s400/main-qimg-6646812f2c8de309481a90e55554fae5-pjlq.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="392" data-original-width="400" height="393" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7DCY7vXjLyRHKeFAfY4tYln8Bz2Ltf0M0B_XlCdVwS8gHd06ARJlojmsm1wlw7oQxVUlicsZw7jsQxIjZ1I9-4r3fWi_FkaJ-17ETmY3eOGJ4clI-tVjmSF9QjOoSw3UpLrVnLHiS8OEREeb0Fk-uVMQDJR6PqrL7yj-MmbrcZbX70yEG1jVxfLxhcqU/w400-h393/main-qimg-6646812f2c8de309481a90e55554fae5-pjlq.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-size: medium;">Troops to Grunt who fell</span></b></div><b><div style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-size: medium;">On his own sword, "Does it hurt?"</span></b></div></b><div style="font-weight: bold; text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-size: medium;">"Only when I laugh."</span></b></div><div style="font-weight: bold; text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="caret-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.847); color: #6a0000; font-family: Georgia, Utopia, "Palatino Linotype", Palatino, serif; font-size: 16px; text-align: center;">Inspired by Magaly Guerro’s prompt on <a href="https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/2023/08/friday-writings-89-you-laughed-you.html" target="_blank">Poets and Storytellers United</a> where we are invited to play along with Oscar Wilde </span><span style="color: #6a0000; font-family: Georgia, Utopia, Palatino Linotype, Palatino, serif;"><span style="caret-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.847);">who said, "Surely no one can read the death of Little Nell(*) without breaking into tears of hearty laughter."</span></span></div></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #6a0000; font-family: Georgia, Utopia, Palatino Linotype, Palatino, serif;"><span style="caret-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.847);"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #6a0000; font-family: Georgia, Utopia, Palatino Linotype, Palatino, serif;"><span style="caret-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.847);">(*) "The Old Curiosity Shop" <i>(Charles Dickens)</i></span></span></div>The Fifth Horsemanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02564417662307432772noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4992807826920313834.post-85941598084643516362023-08-01T14:55:00.000+01:002023-08-01T14:55:58.092+01:00Lamentation Thirty One<div style="caret-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.847); color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.847); font-family: -apple-system-font; font-size: 12px;"><br /></div><div style="caret-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.847); color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.847); font-family: -apple-system-font; font-size: 12px;"><br /></div><div style="caret-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.847); color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.847); text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPTstOkxXjlHSYrADk4TnzXrmPf7qszjJXvCWPLgDhe_xPSJ5KysnFRmo0iLqcuPDfLWpgxLgt0YTCdtHBEFm0wcYEsEek3mDP4lr_RNoHmquuZ5rE5IBHEJfhoYjxXc15K8KlSfw5q8Itkc-JDzGxCgXTAth5jRFRCXDdGd4xb7Vd1X66CGNeG-aY9rs/s4001/29576.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="4001" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPTstOkxXjlHSYrADk4TnzXrmPf7qszjJXvCWPLgDhe_xPSJ5KysnFRmo0iLqcuPDfLWpgxLgt0YTCdtHBEFm0wcYEsEek3mDP4lr_RNoHmquuZ5rE5IBHEJfhoYjxXc15K8KlSfw5q8Itkc-JDzGxCgXTAth5jRFRCXDdGd4xb7Vd1X66CGNeG-aY9rs/s320/29576.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Shoplifting again!</span></div></span></div><div style="caret-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.847); color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.847); text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;">They got me, bang to rights. Hope</span></div><div style="caret-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.847); color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.847); text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;">they don’t lose the key.</span></div><div style="caret-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.847); color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.847); font-family: -apple-system-font; font-size: 12px;"><br /></div><div style="caret-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.847); text-align: center;"><span itemprop="name" style="color: #6a0000; font-family: Georgia, Utopia, "Palatino Linotype", Palatino, serif; font-size: 16px;"> Inspired by Magaly Guerro’s prompt on <a href="https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/2023/07/friday-writings-85-first-lines.html" target="_blank">Poets and Storytellers United</a></span></div><div style="caret-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.847); color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.847); font-family: -apple-system-font; font-size: 12px; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #6a0000; font-family: Georgia, Utopia, "Palatino Linotype", Palatino, serif; font-size: 16px;">and the f</span><span style="color: #6a0000; font-family: Georgia, Utopia, "Palatino Linotype", Palatino, serif; font-size: medium;">irst line of Arthur Koestler’s bleakly dystopian novel "Darkness at Noon"</span></div><div style="caret-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.847); color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.847); font-family: -apple-system-font; font-size: 12px; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #6a0000; font-family: Georgia, Utopia, "Palatino Linotype", Palatino, serif;"><br /></span></div><div style="caret-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.847); color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.847); font-family: -apple-system-font; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i><span style="color: #6a0000; font-family: Georgia, Utopia, "Palatino Linotype", Palatino, serif;">“The cell door slammed behind Rubashov."</span> </i></span></div><div style="caret-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.847); color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.847); font-family: -apple-system-font; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i><br /></i></span></div><div style="caret-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.847); color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.847); font-family: -apple-system-font; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="caret-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.847); color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.847); font-family: -apple-system-font; text-align: center;"><br /></div>The Fifth Horsemanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02564417662307432772noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4992807826920313834.post-18301451501460912862014-10-28T07:21:00.000+00:002014-10-28T07:24:56.536+00:00Lamentation Thirty<div style="text-align: left;">
An intriguing picture from Ms. Kincaid brings me out of retirement . . .</div>
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<b>Life's No Picnic Haiku</b></div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-rHDW8erhPFo/VE9CXd39ndI/AAAAAAAAAMI/4Bhz6Kocs10/s1600/Mag%2B243.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-rHDW8erhPFo/VE9CXd39ndI/AAAAAAAAAMI/4Bhz6Kocs10/s1600/Mag%2B243.jpg" height="320" width="318" /></a></div>
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"No picnic's complete</div>
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without maple syrup? Now</div>
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there's wasps in my sock."</div>
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<a href="http://magpietales.blogspot.co.uk/2014/10/mag-243.html">Visit The Mag</a> for other folks' views</div>
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The Fifth Horsemanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02564417662307432772noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4992807826920313834.post-53934757013799716662014-02-10T17:57:00.001+00:002014-02-10T18:01:58.559+00:00Lamentation Twenty NineIn response to the picture prompt for <a href="http://magpietales.blogspot.co.uk/2014/02/mag-206.html">Mag 206 from Tess Kincaid.</a><br />
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<b>Kiss Me Quaiku.</b></div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-lHNLcpTObrY/UvkPzJORivI/AAAAAAAAALU/sgRsikmBfss/s1600/hat.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-lHNLcpTObrY/UvkPzJORivI/AAAAAAAAALU/sgRsikmBfss/s1600/hat.jpg" height="228" width="320" /></a></div>
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"If the wind changes</div>
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that face will stick," Mummy said.</div>
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"You glad it did, Dad?"</div>
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Follow the link above the title to see other Mag entries.</div>
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<br />The Fifth Horsemanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02564417662307432772noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4992807826920313834.post-44953664092904927262014-01-28T11:03:00.000+00:002014-02-10T17:54:24.416+00:00Lamentation Twenty Eight<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>Haiku for Summers Past.</b></div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-QRXbnlA7-Kc/UueHAlla_RI/AAAAAAAAALE/FKFGvb8TqNM/s1600/wyeth+andrew+the+mill+1964.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-QRXbnlA7-Kc/UueHAlla_RI/AAAAAAAAALE/FKFGvb8TqNM/s1600/wyeth+andrew+the+mill+1964.jpg" height="320" width="254" /></a></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><i>"The Mill" Andrew Wyeth 1964.</i></span></div>
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In such cold weather</div>
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what warms the heart more than a</div>
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cartload of ice cream.</div>
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My response to the prompt for <a href="http://magpietales.blogspot.co.uk/2014/01/mag-204.html">Mag 204 from Tess Kincaid at Willow Manor.</a></div>
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The Fifth Horsemanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02564417662307432772noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4992807826920313834.post-25789455731803649032013-12-15T20:44:00.002+00:002014-01-28T11:27:37.566+00:00Lamentation Twenty Seven<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>The Icecutters' Lament: A Hiceku</b></div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-VxxK42BdAwo/Uq4TnL27i3I/AAAAAAAAAK0/ElZUDpcADMY/s1600/Mag+198.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-VxxK42BdAwo/Uq4TnL27i3I/AAAAAAAAAK0/ElZUDpcADMY/s320/Mag+198.jpg" height="320" width="256" /></a></div>
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Thick ice, very cold.</div>
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Very thick ice hard to cut</div>
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and we're cold. Very.<br />
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The picture above, (<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Tinos; font-size: 11px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 15px;">The Ice Cutters, 1911, Natalia Goncharova)</span> is Tess Kincaid's <a href="http://magpietales.blogspot.co.uk/2013/12/mag-198.html">prompt for Mag 198</a></div>
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The Fifth Horsemanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02564417662307432772noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4992807826920313834.post-57253298995030243342013-09-23T19:56:00.000+01:002013-09-23T20:02:57.083+01:00Lamentation Twenty Six<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<b>A Haiku for Lovers</b></div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5BZCNNja_40/UkCM1x-Rd4I/AAAAAAAAAKk/xk4PsDp3PRg/s1600/Santos,+Cesar+The+Moth+and+The+Lamp.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5BZCNNja_40/UkCM1x-Rd4I/AAAAAAAAAKk/xk4PsDp3PRg/s320/Santos,+Cesar+The+Moth+and+The+Lamp.jpg" width="229" /></a></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Tinos; font-size: 11px; line-height: 15px;"><b>The Moth and the Lamp, Cesar Santos </b></span></div>
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The moth says "Your love</div>
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sets me aflame." The flame says</div>
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"Yours suffocates me."</div>
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This Cesar Santos picture is Tess Kincaid's <a href="http://magpietales.blogspot.co.uk/2013/09/mag-187.html">prompt for Mag 187.</a></div>
The Fifth Horsemanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02564417662307432772noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4992807826920313834.post-50432056253634441472013-08-25T18:13:00.001+01:002013-08-25T18:16:28.697+01:00Lamentation Twenty Five<div style="text-align: center;">
A Haiku in Passing</div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-XGiMQbANAHg/Uho6TqEcArI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/gNkBqkSUFSs/s1600/passing+place+steven+kelly.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-XGiMQbANAHg/Uho6TqEcArI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/gNkBqkSUFSs/s320/passing+place+steven+kelly.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Two cars crash head-on</div>
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in the passing place. Too much</div>
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courtesy can kill.</div>
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Tess Kincaid's prompt this week invites disaster. (<a href="http://magpietales.blogspot.co.uk/2013/08/mag-183.html">Mag 183 is here.</a>)</div>
The Fifth Horsemanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02564417662307432772noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4992807826920313834.post-43797762088086043822013-08-11T19:48:00.000+01:002013-08-11T19:52:39.224+01:00Lamentation Twenty Four<div style="text-align: center;">
A Snapped Elastic Haiku</div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-UVfgiRJG3o8/Ugfa62y72KI/AAAAAAAAAKA/cXJ3Wq2f0f0/s1600/henri+de+toulouse+lautrec.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-UVfgiRJG3o8/Ugfa62y72KI/AAAAAAAAAKA/cXJ3Wq2f0f0/s400/henri+de+toulouse+lautrec.jpg" width="395" /></a></div>
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You think I enjoy</div>
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standing like this? If I don't</div>
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my knickers fall down.</div>
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The prompts from Willow Manor are unfailingly entertaining. <a href="http://magpietales.blogspot.co.uk/2013/08/mag-181.html">Mag 181 is no exception</a>.</div>
The Fifth Horsemanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02564417662307432772noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4992807826920313834.post-77612253312844521502013-08-05T18:23:00.004+01:002013-08-05T18:41:00.539+01:00Lamentation Twenty Three<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>Haiku on Two Manuals </b></div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-obaVM0_csh4/Uf_ehFBfOZI/AAAAAAAAAJw/RdwarmYQiSo/s1600/Escher+M+C+drawing+hands+1948.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="267" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-obaVM0_csh4/Uf_ehFBfOZI/AAAAAAAAAJw/RdwarmYQiSo/s320/Escher+M+C+drawing+hands+1948.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Tinos; font-size: 11px; line-height: 15px;">Drawing Hands, 1948 by M. C. Escher </span></div>
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For once the right hand</div>
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knows what the left hand's doing . . .</div>
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And it's off the cuff!</div>
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Thanks to Tess for this Mag 180 prompt, <a href="http://magpietales.blogspot.co.uk/2013/08/mag-180.html">shown HERE</a>.</div>
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The Fifth Horsemanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02564417662307432772noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4992807826920313834.post-57834151683459794552013-07-28T17:37:00.002+01:002013-07-28T17:42:18.154+01:00Lamentation Twenty Two<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>Haiku On the Law of </b><br />
<b>Unintended Consequences</b><br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-N92un_uqNCI/UfVHrsIkcWI/AAAAAAAAAJg/8wxJCDnHKKs/s1600/balloons+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="276" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-N92un_uqNCI/UfVHrsIkcWI/AAAAAAAAAJg/8wxJCDnHKKs/s320/balloons+1.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Man with shotgun thinks<br />
"Don't look gift car in the tyres!"<br />
BANG! Car falls on head.<br />
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Another satisfactory tale of mishap and woe suggested by<a href="http://magpietales.blogspot.co.uk/2013/07/mag-179.html"> the Magprompt HERE.</a></div>
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The Fifth Horsemanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02564417662307432772noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4992807826920313834.post-4858506950162786582013-07-09T18:04:00.004+01:002013-07-11T07:21:03.670+01:00Lamentation Twenty One<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>Supermoon's . </b>.</div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-iTiswWwzuW0/UdxA_mKasMI/AAAAAAAAAJQ/wK6t0q-jzVI/s1600/supermoon+julio+cortez+ap.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-iTiswWwzuW0/UdxA_mKasMI/AAAAAAAAAJQ/wK6t0q-jzVI/s320/supermoon+julio+cortez+ap.jpg" width="213" /></a></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Tinos;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 11px; line-height: 15px;"><b><br /></b></span></span></div>
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. . at perigee, but</div>
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you've never been so remote!</div>
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No apologee?</div>
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Reader's may forgive this dreadful play on words. Or maybe not. <a href="http://magpietales.blogspot.co.uk/2013/07/mag-176.html">Prompted by Tess Kincaid at Willow Manor.</a> Image: <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Tinos; font-size: 11px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 15px;">Supermoon 2013, Julio Cortez, AP </span></div>
The Fifth Horsemanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02564417662307432772noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4992807826920313834.post-21927683758212823642013-03-11T17:49:00.001+00:002013-03-11T17:59:36.097+00:00Lamentation Twenty<div style="text-align: center;">
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Posted in response to <a href="http://magpietales.blogspot.co.uk/2013/03/mag-159.html">Mag 159, prompted by Tess Kincaid.</a></div>
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Haiku for a Lovesick Sailor</div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-xttk9H9ZQVw/UT4X22N-WBI/AAAAAAAAAIw/E-7XhOlPFRM/s1600/Meal+Beach,+Burra+Isles,+Shetland+by+Robin+Gosnall.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-xttk9H9ZQVw/UT4X22N-WBI/AAAAAAAAAIw/E-7XhOlPFRM/s320/Meal+Beach,+Burra+Isles,+Shetland+by+Robin+Gosnall.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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She shot him one glance.</div>
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Holed beneath the waterline</div>
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He sank without trace.</div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">.</span></span></div>
The Fifth Horsemanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02564417662307432772noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4992807826920313834.post-44962584074186062602013-02-17T20:05:00.002+00:002013-02-17T20:09:45.020+00:00Lamentation Nineteen<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Haiku for the Lost and the Lonely</div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/--il_XufxEu4/USE3PlTWaBI/AAAAAAAAAIg/WazSmd-y7N4/s1600/Wind+of+History+Jacek+Yerka.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="261" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/--il_XufxEu4/USE3PlTWaBI/AAAAAAAAAIg/WazSmd-y7N4/s320/Wind+of+History+Jacek+Yerka.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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"Are you <i>quite</i> sure, dear,</div>
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you keyed Buckingham Palace</div>
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into the satnav?"</div>
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Tess Kincaid offers a weekly picture to encourage us to write something. Anything! <a href="http://magpietales.blogspot.co.uk/2013/02/mag-156.html">More HERE.</a></div>
The Fifth Horsemanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02564417662307432772noreply@blogger.com19tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4992807826920313834.post-41126498566926339062013-02-17T19:57:00.001+00:002013-02-17T19:57:54.331+00:00Celebration One<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-R8-Vlfjaiwk/URyZuxj52GI/AAAAAAAAAIQ/Kc_PrMw7IQ4/s1600/Bubbly.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-R8-Vlfjaiwk/URyZuxj52GI/AAAAAAAAAIQ/Kc_PrMw7IQ4/s400/Bubbly.jpg" width="272" /></a></div>
<br />The Fifth Horsemanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02564417662307432772noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4992807826920313834.post-50444402223329950922013-01-29T07:25:00.000+00:002013-01-29T07:37:50.400+00:00Lamentation Eighteen<div style="text-align: left;">
<a href="http://magpietales.blogspot.co.uk/2013/01/mag-153.html">Mag 153 prompt from </a>Tess Kincaid.</div>
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Haiku in Vinyl</div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xoxrdne9PZg/UQd3s-isi9I/AAAAAAAAAIA/FDLWtEVqgu4/s1600/Charlotte+Gainsbourg++AnOther.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xoxrdne9PZg/UQd3s-isi9I/AAAAAAAAAIA/FDLWtEVqgu4/s320/Charlotte+Gainsbourg++AnOther.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div>
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I've found a flat, black</div>
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disc which has a central hole.</div>
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Is this a record?</div>
The Fifth Horsemanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02564417662307432772noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4992807826920313834.post-23516884106487795222012-12-02T18:08:00.002+00:002013-01-29T07:25:03.168+00:00Lamentation Seventeen<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Once again, <a href="http://magpietales.blogspot.co.uk/2012/12/mag-146.html">Tess Kincaid ups the Sunday tempo</a> with her new picture prompt.</div>
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A Timely Haiku</div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-NOXS6CFrN_o/ULuYviM46CI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/_h80WXWFojM/s1600/ray,+man,+indestructible+object+or+object+to+be+destroyed,+1923.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-NOXS6CFrN_o/ULuYviM46CI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/_h80WXWFojM/s320/ray,+man,+indestructible+object+or+object+to+be+destroyed,+1923.jpg" width="233" /></a></div>
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Wee bloke in Subway</div>
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pleads "Man Ray,destroy me not!</div>
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I'm the Metro Gnome."</div>
The Fifth Horsemanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02564417662307432772noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4992807826920313834.post-18188830371570839592012-10-30T14:42:00.000+00:002012-10-30T14:56:07.731+00:00Lamentation Sixteen<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<b>Snog Warning</b></div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-YXFXkpS-BXc/UI_mc5PqpiI/AAAAAAAAAG4/s2Rvp6xhNnA/s1600/rain6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-YXFXkpS-BXc/UI_mc5PqpiI/AAAAAAAAAG4/s2Rvp6xhNnA/s320/rain6.jpg" width="208" /></a></div>
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"Who cares about rain,"</div>
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she told him through their kiss. Both</div>
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caught their deaths of cold.<br />
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So just what has <a href="http://www.magpietales.blogspot.co.uk/2012/10/mag-141.html">Magpie 141</a> got to be cheerful about? Read some and find out.</div>
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The Fifth Horsemanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02564417662307432772noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4992807826920313834.post-52241797794408037962012-10-15T20:10:00.002+01:002012-10-15T20:16:21.799+01:00Lamentation Fifteen<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<b>Weight Watchers' Warning</b></div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-XB9H-mb4FnU/UHxex63xhzI/AAAAAAAAAGo/SY3tnMkCc4Q/s1600/Magpie139.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="236" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-XB9H-mb4FnU/UHxex63xhzI/AAAAAAAAAGo/SY3tnMkCc4Q/s320/Magpie139.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Tinos; font-size: 11px; line-height: 15px;"><br /></span></b>
<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Tinos; font-size: 11px; line-height: 15px;">(Midnight Snack, 1984, by Curtis Wilson Cost)</span></b><br />
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Don't count calories</div>
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or your gobbly midnight snacks.</div>
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Count your heart-attacks!</div>
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My pessimistic response to <a href="http://magpietales.blogspot.co.uk/2012/10/mag-139.html">Magpie 139, here.</a></div>
The Fifth Horsemanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02564417662307432772noreply@blogger.com4