2025 - The Cracked Door

06/29/25 A New Haiku for a New Day

You can no longer
Tell who was on which side:
The fallen soldiers

Blast from the Past:

The clear enemy,
The clash partitions evil
Outside of oneself

All longings for more,
Attempts for unequal mine,
Cave for all in time.

Blast from the Past:

Empires return to
Ashes from the fire of their
Own machinery

There is nothing like
Finishing work to foster
Fake finality

Blast from the Past:

To measure one’s life
In work shifts, misses all that
One’s life was meant for.

I climb the stairs
Crawling up and up each step
Yearning for the sky

Blast from the Past:

The frigid rain falls
Panting, lost the trail as I
Climb out my demons

When you tell the truth,
Why does it so often seem
To sound like a lie?

Blast from the Past:

We breathed white lies to
The blue sky but could not melt
The summer black ice.

Slowly, softly seized
Faces whose eyes stare at me
I’m an empty stage

Blast from the Past:

Staring into the
Abyss of sinister scorn
And shame seethingly

Talent for dreaming
A slumber of mysteries
Color of boredom

Blast from the Past:

Inspiration comes
From within your minds eye but
So does writer’s block.