am going to assuage my ego and pretend that the reason Fleur roped me
into this exercise was to make up for her absence in a Czar-hosted HM
week with a theme that my dear friend would have hit out of the park,
not that that was the intent, and I only realized it later. Then again,
most weeks, everyone hits it out of the park these days.
as background for those of who you don’t know and who might care, Fleur
and I worked together at an insurance association, of all things, back
in the mid-1980s. Fleur was a coworker of the future czarina, and was a
bridesmaid at our wedding. As we now understand, we were virtual
children then. We’ve for almost thirty years been part of a small group
-- not unlike HMers -- who pride ourselves on what legends we are, in
our own minds or otherwise. Although we probably were out of contact for
10 or more years, HM has brought Fleur and me back to our old tricks.]
know the real reason: Without a cast of thousands, the idea of Fleur
bringing in an HM winning essay on her own before people are embarking
upon their weekend plans is about as likely as her stepping onto New
York’s mean streets in an army jacket and a pair of faded corduroys. I
think one of Fleur’s past excuses had to do with her sister and mother
going to follow a fleet of Canadian sailors somewhere. Not exactly sure.
that Fleur’s Gaffney peach watertower haiku would have beat Her
Serendipitousness’s sunset reflection that week. I can only imagine what
Blowfish’s reaction to the peach must be. Especially with what South
Carolina is in the czarist mind (no offense to our reader[s] from South
Carolina), the idea that the state has erected what appears to be a
colossal monument to a woman’s derriere right on the interstate is a
matter of some confusion.
Wait. Why am I writing?
What’s the theme? Refuse? Repent? Resist? Oh, Pretend. Who am I? Why am I
here? Maybe I’ll resist the temptation to toss off bon mots to keep
myself amused. Maybe I’ll resist talking about haikus altogether? No,
wait. Pretend, pretend.
Maybe I’ll pretend I’ll make
the final wording easy for Fleur, after all the onerous rules I
established up front. She was only about a quarter kidding. Her word is
as good as her word. And her words have always been pretty good, as you
Protocol: I suggested to Fleur that we submit to
each other our top three with reasons, ranked, and I’d take a first pass
and compiling and writing up the results; then she’d edit and have
Well, rather than three, I offered seven: 2 first place, 2 second places, a third place, and 2 honorable mentions.
offered four, I think. Are they ranked? Dunno? Were there names
attached to two of them? No. I’m thinking that, knowing Fleur, this was
some attempt at electoral sabotage that some of the children once
attempted on the back of the Partridge Family bus.
Let’s pretend this was going to be simple.
far as I can tell, here are the ones that drew specific comments. I’ll
work up from what’s roughly honorable mention to what may have been a
clear winner. Sorta. In our pretend universe.
Nice thing is, everyone got a call.
each liked a different one of Serendipity’s; comments on the logs:
“Another childhood pretend interrupted by reality. The concept of a
maiden voyage by, well, a maiden is most clever.”
Chickory’s first on a deceptive-looking day received double kudos. The subsequent explanation was very interesting, too.
Fishy, 1st Trojan Horse: “epic story, best fakeout in history (until the Crying Game).
was noted for great phrasing, sounds, complex use of theme and a good
visual. If we were pretending this was a fair fight and voted on
tangibles, Moi might have come away with the win this week.
Rider’s was a great twist: the terrible two who’s figured it out and
the supposedly grown-up family who wants to cling, and for what?
on (the) burned dinner (metaphor), like another one haiku soon to be
discussed, attracted one of the judges particularly because both parties
in view will ultimately be pretending here. The speaker of “yes, dear”
-- a phrase often loaded with pretend if there ever was one -- is
uncertain. Too, once getting past that phrase, just about every word
carries a double meaning that makes the short, simple syllables ricochet
all over the place with multiple associations. Even “honey” sets off
Lenny Bruce connotations that help the verse along -- a man who wrote a
fictional (pretend) autobiography.
Spring tryst; oh Oh OH! Oh Honey! You are the best! Work on shopping list.
ode to the fake orgasm received superlatives from us both: “hilarious,
the biggest ongoing fakeout in human history.” “Works for all involved.
Take the same first two lines and close with five syllables about
thinking of someone else, and you have a daisy chain of pretend, and a
might empty one.”
Without pretense, the week goes to Sir Karl. The rest of us . . . worthwhile pretenders.
From the Fleur: Well
said, Csar! I am in awe of Karl, all my fellow HM entrants, and you
for having worked both the Partridge Family and Lenny Bruce's lady into
the same winner write-up!
Haiku Monday Posse, things are going to be a little different this week. PAUSE.......................................................... We now pause for my tardy haiku on the Csar's theme SOUTHEAST: The road to Gaffney. Stuckey's pecan treasures shrink before the Big Peach. CONTINUE....................................................... Because I missed the deadline for submitting that entry to Csar, I have offered him the final judging role on this week's theme: PRETEND. I will be pre-judging. Although the Csar agreed to participate, the guy put forth more conditions than Barb Streisand contracting for Donna Karan's Hamptons' holiday party: you must do this; I insist on that; I am veto-ing that theme; this is your sub-deadline, then this is your pre-draft-deadline, and your final deadline is that. Oh, and make sure that you do this particular thing without fail. O. M. G. But then...you take a step back and realize that you are working with a genius, and a giant. You realize that taking hard licks from the Csar will help you create the kind of Haiku Monday that ranks right on up there with one of the masterworks of all time, YENTL. Rules:
Leave your entries in my comments
5 syllable, 7 syllable, 5 syllable format.
Kigo (seasonal reference) and Kireji (cutting word) are considered though not deal-breakers
Visuals will be taken into consideration
Submit up to two for judging, and others if you like for pleasure, but label them accordingly.
Very sorry for the delay, my Haiku Monday friends. Technology issues; but the $22 counterfeit Mac charger that my brother ordered for me before he headed to Tijuana for his gastric bypass surgery finally came.
I do still love HM, and I absolutely adored each and every entry this week! Very thoughtful and varying takes on the theme. Thank you all so much for playing. I've said it before: it is fun to host, but very hard to judge. I did make comments on my previous blog; so in the interest of shortening the suspense:
I am giving two awards today:
Best image: for "superman flies free" to Corey Jo. Adorable.
Haiku Monday Winner:
a poof of chalk cloud rises up from the line; Ha! double fault, game match
This was a tight story and perfect chalk dust sensory overload: like when the nuns used to have you clean the blackboards and then you'd clap the erasers together. I could taste the chalky cloud.