2025 - The Cracked Door

03/02/25 A New Poem for a New Day

Over the hustle of cars and people,
A lone train softly glides by,
Dividing the flurry
From the still high-rises above

Blast from the Past:

Nomadic, exile,
Traveling, adventurous,
Migrating movement

Beneath this silence
Where speech can’t venture, I cry
Alone with the night

Blast from the past:

Alone in the crowd
Solitude in the hustle
The silence of sound

Fire and water meet,
And out of the clash comes the
Creation of worlds

Blast from the Past:

Fathom creation.
Flee like a belief into
Untouched subtlety.

As the earth consumes
Me, fever and loss are all
That can protect me.

Blast from the Past:

Waking, plagued hands turn
Their rocket’s autopilot
Away from the sun

Even tiny stones
Help alter the river’s course
Each one plays its part

Blast from the Past:

When you yield yourself
To the flood rushing forward,
You float upon it

I based on this second haiku on this poem.

Sitting on your throne
Made of oxhorn, conch, and stone
Alone in your world

Blast from the Past:

In time even the
Wind will give an answer to
Gravity’s promise

Barred teeth, focused eyes
White fangs, dripping with
Your blood

Blast from the Past:

Lay awake then rise
The sun will soon return, to
Reveal your demons