Lamentation Seventeen

Once again, Tess Kincaid ups the Sunday tempo with her new picture prompt.

A Timely Haiku

Wee bloke in Subway

pleads "Man Ray,destroy me not!

I'm the Metro Gnome."

Lamentation Sixteen

Snog Warning

"Who cares about rain,"

she told him through their kiss. Both

caught their deaths of cold.

So just what has Magpie 141 got to be cheerful about? Read some and find out.

Lamentation Fifteen

Weight Watchers' Warning

(Midnight Snack, 1984, by Curtis Wilson Cost)

Don't count calories

or your gobbly midnight snacks.

Count your heart-attacks!

My pessimistic response to Magpie 139, here.

Lamentation Fourteen

Two Haiku To Confuse

"Shall we dance?" "I need

a doctor!  Where've you sprung from?

The previous post . . . ?"

"And while we're at it -

Where's Lamentation Thirteen?"

"Don't look for bad luck!"

Serious writers will find rewarding Magies making better use of the Willow Manor prompt HERE.  The picture is:  Sick Woman, 1665, by Jan Steen

Lamentation Twelve

Two-Step Haiku

The Sailor: "Dancing's

the vertical expression

of flat-out intent."

Venus: "In your dreams!

You'll neither dance nor grope me when

you're falling-down drunk."

Tess Kincaid's weekly prompt and many responses to it can be found here.
The picture is: Venus and The Sailor, 1925, by Salvador Dali

Lamentation Eleven

Haiku on Target

Breakfast, 1921, Fernand Leger

Please soft-boil my eggs

so when they splat this picture

goo might improve it -

 Tess serves up a cryptic breakfast Magpie this week.

Lamentation Ten

Tess at Willow Manor raids another art gallery for this week's prompt.

A Correct Plural Haiku

(Summer Night, 1913, by Albert Bloch)

Would I joke with you?

You guys should watch out!  There are

octopi about.

.

Lamentation Nine

Tess Kincaid's Magpie 132 inspires yet more disappointment, if not total despair.

Ever Hopeful Haiku

Big Room, 1948, by Andrew Wyeth

By this cold, dead grate

I've waited years. But so far -

no Father Christmas.

Lamentation Eight

Green was the colour

of my true love's hair until

we - and it - fell out.

Lamentation Seven

No Afters Haiku

A Dinner Table at Night, 1884, John Singer Sargent

Foot presses on foot,

toe lifts her hemline. "Stop that!

I have a headache."

A disconsolate and discouraging response to Tess Kincaid's picture prompt for Magpie 129.  Let's hope John Singer Sargent was more persuasive and charming than the stuffed shirt in his picture,

Lamentation Six

My Pet Haiku.

I do not like cats.                          
Their claws dig in my legs when    
they climb my trousers.                  

I wear cricket pads.                        
They attack me from the rear!        
There IS a bonus -                          

they reach my ass and                    
not my b****cks before they          
attack with their teeth.                    

Can't understand why            
I keep fifty-five of the
horrible creatures.

A perfect Friday Flash fiftyfiver for the G-Man!!

Lamentation Five

Defective Haiku  

Shit! This User Guide

has not one word on "How to

escape from jam-jars."

Prompt thanks to Tess Kincaid at Willow Manor.  Image by Manu Pombrol.

Lamentation Four

Haiku for Jonahs Everywhere

(Image by Alex Stoddard)

Not breathing too well,

but living in hope. A blue

whale might rescue me.

One of many responses to Tess Kincaid's prompt for Magpie#114.  There are better ones, surely?

Lamentation Three

Haiku For Omelettes Everywhere

walking on eggshells

has never been easier

death to all chickens

Posted for Magpie#112

Lamentation Two

Haiku Through a Glass Darkly

"Are you not Alice?"

"You're right. Alice I am not,

nor Alice Cooper."

My short post for Magpie 110 - a very interesting blog for writers and readers.

Magpie Tales#109

Lamentation One.

The groaning gears of the World
grind on their shattered axle. Now observe
a trivial man trying to put things right.
Has he not seen, has no one seen the mist,
the creeping mist coming from top of pic
to thwart his wrenching?  God, how he wrenches.
Look up good man!  Can you not see the dust
of raven haunted prophecy that swallows
the vast meridian star by star
in the pocked night sky?  And thus confronted
you with your four foot wrench and puny arms
are like a seaman on the doomed Titanic
rearranging deck chairs and soothing
the First Class saying, "Nay, the ship's not burst-
-ing at the seams. We have stopped a while
to take on board fresh ice, that's all.
Shut your cabin doors against the iron rings
of truth and let's away. Yes, let's away!"

An attempt at a Magpie by one who believes poetry knows no bounds.