Friday, April 20, 2012

 

Haiku Friday: Choices, Choices!



When I was in about 7th grade, we watched an educational film called "Choices!" It was about sex, or crime, or drugs, or maybe all three-- i don't really remember, and they all kind of run together anyways when you are 12. It had a little song that still haunts me, that went like this (and which was NOT the song of the same name in the video above):

Choices, choices!
Good ones, bad ones!
Gotta make those... choices!


Of course, the point of the movie was totally true-- we do make choices and live with them, though often we like to pretend that we didn't make a choice at all.

So, let's haiku about that today-- a choice you or someone else has made, big or small, and the consequences. Here is an example:

I did choose the law
Over being a writer...
Or that's what I thought.

The winner gets their bio here on Monday-- just make it 5 syllables/7 syllables/5 syllables. This should be fun!

Comments:
A medievalist,
I never saw it coming,
What happen'd to me?
 
Virginia is for
Lovers. I chose it for law
school; found love later.
 
Barb'ra Brown Taylor
Dreamed of writing short stories,
Then she wrote sermons.
 
neil peart taught me this:
i will choose a path that's clear,
i will choose free will.
 
Had to shave my head
The robes didn't keep me warm,
Lived with many vows.

I chose Elena
Post Buddhist-nun years, of course,
Perhaps my best choice.

What! Leave my New York
To live in the strange Mid-West?
Friends back home still sigh.
 
I choose to see good
Not in a glass half full way
Sometimes I struggle
 
I chose to trust
With eyes open wide
Found out I'm a bat.
 
I chose to get out
Literally, just to run
I didn't look back

To live without roots
You must become addicted
To running away

Then something happened
And I wanted to slow down
Didn't want to run

My marriage, my home
It's a new gypsy's detox
But still my legs itch.
 
Surely, I'm too old!
School is for whippersnappers ...
and second careers.
 
She chose not to choose
So Far left,the CIA wouldn't
Choose her.Nerves rage.

She chose to go home.
Everyday,her mother asked
Have you got a job?

She didn't choose teaching.
Her methods too avant garde,
Bureaucracy looms.

And she didn't choose
Theatre,though,she loved it
More than any man.

One day she cried on
Her father's chest,exhausted
And he chose for her.

He chose the airlines.
At first,she was scornful of
Her job.but found STAGE.

She chose to sing there.
To tell jokes,to listen to
People's stories.To help.

She traveled with friends,
Comrades,really,and started
To choose revelry.

You know she didn't
Choose the right husband...really!
He did not like hats.

But she did choose to
Have a beautiful boy and
Nurture choice in him.

Before her parents died
She chose a cast of characters
To be her kin.Church.

Now she has chosen
In twilight,Theatre...and Pen.
And Dog to warm feet.
 
For Linda Mankoff-Romeo and Joe R.

The elevator
Where they met is now a shrine.
Her lush fur coat.Pearls.

He had been wearing
A suit and tie and he said
"So lovely! Where to?"

He was just her size
With a moustache and smart
He:Cath'lic,she: Jew.

Both older still valued
Romance. Her low soft voice
Led him to kisses.

So Joe chose Linda
And Linda chose Joe,and they
Feasted most nights.
 
I failed to choose, Still
have not chosen. Such a lame
way to be. weirdo.
 
Adrenaline high,
Split second reaction time,
Boom. And all is changed.
 
Art School nixed Hitler
Became Der Fuhrer instead.
Now THAT'S a bad choice!
Bob
 
Daddy told us not
To play in the garage,not
To play with his tools.

But we still went there
And we sat at his bench and
Played with his scissors.

The big sharp scissors smiled,
Rocky who was two picked it up.
I tried to take it.

He ran over smooth
Grass that tickled his feet,big
Sister made a choice.

To chase him. He ran
Faster,til the scissors bit
Belly.Red fountain.

I screamed til Mommy
Came with baby and screamed for
Help. We can't scream now.

Every vein collapsed.
The doctors said he was dead
But one wouldn't give up.

He lived,but after that
I asked myself,"This, my fault?"
Choosing was difficult.
 
tyd--to me the term "weirdo" is synonymous with "delightful." I have been weird all my life...wearing hats and Edwardian garb and have done the unexpected.I am finally at peace with that.Weird is merely creative that some people don't exactly understand. I love the way you put words and ideas together.We would be impoverished here without you.I believe you have been making choices all along,but perhaps have not valued them
 
God chose him,a boy
Watching over sheep.Now he
Chose the roof.Warm night

The stars lanterned a
Clear, lovely view of her bath.
She stretched out her leg.

He could smell roses at
Her ankles and sandalwood
In her hair.Eyes met.

Lightning speed he sent
Her husband to the front to die.
And for her to bed.

The sandalwood Rose bore
Fruit,a babe he so loved
But The King's son died.

Now,on his knees,he wailed--
Desolate,not alone,asked
For God's forgiveness

Beloved of God,
Imperfect,still call.
Bargain.Rage.Love.Seek.
 
I can only act
In my own time, my own way.
Life is long (I think) . . .

Is this choice? Safety?
Comfort? Stubbornness, for sure.

Inner Scarlett says
Tomorrow is another day--
But now I'm fifty,

Mindset of twenty-five
Trying to meld "Life is long"
With "Life is short." And

"Life is short" works, too,
If I can sustain that pace.
I choose twenty-five

When I can't.
 
I lay before you
Life and death, blessing and curse,
says God. I choose life.
 
I wonder if Frost
really chose the less trod road.
It's easier said.

Choose, or the world will.
I've found the adage true, and
often ceded choice.

Whether one chooses
boldly or casts fates to chance,
God's grace is in it.
 
RENEE IS AWESOME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
 
"Razor" intrigue found
An umbrella for many
What say to one more?

Invited to dance
A diverse symphony shared
All are welcome here
 
To stay or to go,
She seemed life the perfect girl.
It wasn't worth it
 
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