f/k/a archives . . . real opinions & real haiku

October 13, 2005

dagosan’s scrapbook — October 2005

Filed under: pre-06-2006 — David Giacalone @ 10:54 pm

 


– below are haiku and senryu written by “dagosan”, this weblog’s Editor, David A. Giacalone. most have been on the Home Page, some are outtakes and rewrites. each is a work in progress. i hope they show improvement over time and encourage others to try writing haiku –


 – click here for dagosan’s archive index




 






 


alito – 

the plaintiff’s bar

shivers

 

 

 

 

 

 


alito!

puffs from the right

huffs from the left

 

 

 

   [Oct. 31, 2005]






 

 

 

 

who are you

today?

Goth kids trick-or-treating

                     [Oct. 31, 2005]


 










 

 

 




two pirates smooch

on the overpass — 

the Pumpkin Patrol rousts them

 


[Oct. 30, 2005]


 

 

 

 

 

 

 


October 30:

two wilted pumpkins

and all the candy gone

 

  [October 29, 2005]

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

her marriage?


she says

it’s fine

 

 [Oct. 27, 2005]

 

 

 

 

 

 

 








first date —

her eyes linger

on the rusted fender

 

 [Oct. 27, 2005]






 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

out-patient exit —

taking home

a new sore throat

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


first snow this year —

strangers in hospital gowns

talk weather

 

 

 

   [Oct. 25, 2005]

 

 

 

 

 

 

 



rearview mirror–

the baby face

is gone



                          [Oct 24, 2005]



 



 

 

 

 

 

 


 

still blocking 

my river view —

a few red, stubborn leaves

 

 

[Oct. 23, 2005]



 

 

 

 

 

 


late for dinner

pasta

way past al dente

 




[Oct. 22, 2005]

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

first cold morning —

river mist mixes

with car exhaust

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 




 

first cold day –

the same torn finger

on last year’s glove

 

[Oct. 21, 2005]




 


 


 


 



too cold for fireflies — 


campfire sparks

float over the rocks

 


 


 


 


 


Kashmir’s children

atop the rubble

under the rubble




[Oct. 20, 2005]  

 


 


 


 











my “funeral suit”

too snug —

someday, it’ll be baggy

                           [Oct. 19, 2005]


 

 

 

 

 

running for judge —

she practices

her braille

 

                           [Oct. 18, 2005]

 


 


 


 


autumn cycle

one red and one brown

sock in the tub

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 




two rainbows

in one day —

no one to tell

 

[Oct. 18, 2005]  

 


 


 


 


 




her beer breath —

tonight,

we both have headaches 

 

 

 [Oct. 17, 2005]

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 



class reunion –

he leaves

his toupee home 

 

 

                  [Oct. 15, 2005]

 

 

 

 

 

 

 








in the middle

of the distraction —

an interruption

 


 


 









leaf-peepers ooh and ah —

why didn’t I

bring my gloves?

 

 

 [Oct. 14, 2005]      

 


 

 

 

 

 

half a tank —

above the gas pump

Old Glory in tatters

 

        [Oct. 13, 2005, hat tip

            to elizabeth macfarland]

 


 


 


 



cold autumn rain

spotting three yellow slickers

she smiles


 

[Oct. 12, 2005]  

 


 


 


you can’t carve that!

daddy snatches

the orange bocce ball


 

[Oct. 11, 2005]  

 

 

 


 









 


Columbus Day rain  —

first cozy evening

since Spring

 

 

[Oct. 9, 2005]

 

 

 

 

 

 

 





 


                               perched on

the sitting sumo’s belly —

one large pumpkin

 

 

[Oct. 8, 2005]

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


one arm under the pillow

only my hand

asleep

                

 

[Oct. 7, 2005]



 

 

 

 

 







heading toward sunset —

the migrating geese

left turn

 

     

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 













stained glass window –

a stranger

in autumn twilight



 




 

  


 

“Historic District” sign –

textured asphalt

painted “brick red”

 


 

[Oct. 6, 2005]

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

icy bridge —

grandpa says

“if you skid, pump the brakes”

 

 

[Oct. 5, 2005]

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

oil prices

heading skyward

the noisy geese fly south

 

 

[Oct. 4, 2005]

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

an autumn day

too good to waste –

the factory whistle blows

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 




      capsizing

tourboat –

one walker slowly sinks

 

 

 

[Oct. 3, 2005]

 

 

 

 

 






 

standing up 

book in hand —

one gull floats, flies, floats

 

 





 

 

 

 

 

used book —

someone else’s

coffee stain

 

[Oct. 2, 2005]

 

 

 

 

 

 

 





no fan

for two days —

now, it’s autumn

 

 

[Oct. 1, 2005]

 

around the haikusphere

Filed under: pre-06-2006 — David Giacalone @ 7:44 pm

today

 

– at Tiny Words:

 




nude beach
  a man and a woman
    collect shells

 

       ed markowski 

            originally in The Heron’s Nest.

 

 

 

 

 

– at Morden Haiku:

 

 



budget cut meeting

the sound of a strimmer 

revving up

 


 

 

 

 

tiny check added to the f/k/a pumpkin collection:

 

 




 

a frown
of concentration
pumpkin carving










pumpkin neg 

 

carved
into a green pumpkin
queasy face


 


“a frown” – Modern Haiku, XXX:2, 1999

“carved” – South by Southeast, 7:3, 2001


 

 

tiny check  eked out by dagosan:

 

 




half a tank —

Old Glory in tatters

above the gas pump

 

         dagosan 

              (hat tip to elizabeth macfarland)

 

                                                                                                                     gas pump g

 

Bainbridge finds Miers guilty by Association

Filed under: pre-06-2006 — David Giacalone @ 4:44 pm

As he touts at his website, Steve Bainbridge was quoted at

length in a Knight Ridder article yesterday, on the importance

of an American Bar Association rating to Harriet Miers’ quest

to become an associate justice on the U.S. Supreme Court. 

(“ABA’s probe of Miers’ record, rating may be key for confirma-

tion,” Oct. 12, 2005)

 

Here’s how the article presents the core of Prof. Bainbridge’s

remarks (emphasis added):








runners black small

“The problem here is that the people who most need 

convincing are the people who are least likely to trust the

ABA,” Bainbridge said, noting that many conservatives

view the ABA as part of a liberal legal establishment. “A

lot of us resigned from ABA after getting fed up with its

establishment-left liberalism. If she were one of us, she’d

have quit, too.”  . . .

 

“She has the kind of qualifications that are sort of classic

ABA qualifications,” said UCLA professor Bainbridge.

“President of a bar, active in the ABA, managing partner

of a big firm. The bulk of the committee that will decide her

rating is composed of people who look like her.”

 

runners black small  That’s right, Harriet didn’t follow the harrumphing herd of

Heffalumps out of the ABA, so she is suspect.  In a leadership position,

she stayed to fight.  Meanwhile, the whiny guys who keep telling us

they deserve a seat on the Supreme Court because they have hung in

at institutions where they are a persecuted and mocked minority —

yes, those heroic figures — think Harriet should have capitulated,

leaving the nation’s most important general bar association fully

under the sway of the evil, hated Liberals.  Pathetic grasping at

straws.  Or, is it pathetic group-think by a bunch of self-proclaimed

rugged individualists?

 

p.s. Don’t even get me started about the phrase

“people who look just like her.”

 

 

 

 



hand prints

 

 

 

stepping on

sidewalk ants     the boy

everyone bullies

 

 

 

 

 

 







the anger from work

in my son’s birthday balloons

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

the son

who argues everything

I study his face

in a puddle

 

 

 


(Brooks Books, 2000) 

 

 






One bath

after another–

how stupid


        — ISSA 

 

                                                    bathtubG

 

last words on Columbus (for now)

Filed under: pre-06-2006 — David Giacalone @ 1:01 am

Two days ago, we opined “it’s hard to discover Columbus.”  This evening,

I started reading a rollicking piece of nonfiction that might help me understand

old Cristoforo better.  It’s Martin Dugard’s new book The Last Voyage of Columbus:

Being the Epic Tale of the Great Captain’s Fourth Expedition, Including Accounts

of Swordfight, Mutiny, Shipwreck, Gold, War, Hurricane, and Discovery (2005). 

 

Dugard ends the book with these words:

                                                                                                     columbus


“No matter their merits, arguments will follow Columbus forever. 

History does not know what to make of the Admiral of the Ocean

Sea or how to categorize the ramifications of his discoveries

without passions of one kind or another intruding. The explorer will

always remain something of an enigma. He was Italian, yet claimed

the New World for Spain. He was a compassionate Christian, yet

considered slavery a viable form of commerce. He was a man of

great charisma whose passion sometimes turned others against

him.  He was an explorer – a wanderer, really – who fancied himself

capable of great bureaucratic skills. His advocates marveled at his

daring and tenaciousness, persevering so long in his quest for funding

and then defying conventional wisdom to sail across an uncharted sea.

His detractors thought him brutal and weak. The only certainty about

Columbus is that, for better or worse, he chose to live a bold life rather

than settle for mediocrity.”

Sounds about right to me.  Choosing to “live a bold life rather than settle for

mediocrity” is not a bad epitaph.  I wish we could also say Columbus sought

to live the Golden Rule, rather than seeking gold for rulers — and himself.

 

 


the nina

 


As we leave Columbus’ day behind, here is a sneak preview of

our newest Honored Guest poet, Andrew Riutta.  You will see

that there was no affirmative action or cronyism involved when I

asked this “rising star” Italo-American haiku poet to join us at

f/k/a.   More about Andrew tomorrow. 

 



north star…
as if I could find
my way


 


 


 







mayfly
a shattered world
through its wing





 





 


 


 



half moon—
between two crickets
a year has passed


 


 


 


 







starlit mountain…
the sound of water
returning to itself


 


Andrew Riutta from Pipeline, Simply Haiku (Summer 2005, vol. 3:2)


                                                                                                                         pirateS

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