The Cracked Door – Daily Haikus
Reflections on life, the world, and society. Come explore with me.
As my eyelids close,
The constant blares of traffic
Help to remind me
That the city does not join me
In slowly drifting to sleep
Blast from the Past:
A massive skyline
Peeks to seek, to spot, to scale
Manicured mountains
Waking the morning after
The apocalypse that never came.
What do you do now
That you have your whole life ahead of you?
Blast from the Past:
I’m thinking about
The end of the world—how bored
It is making me.
Driving in my car
Watching the changes
That never seem to happen in the world
Listening as Garrison Keillor
Teaches me how to transition
Into middle age
Blast from the Past:
Slip slowly into
Unconsciousness just to face
The same old problems.
I strive to try to fly.
My lie is that I’d fly so high.
I cry each time I fly so high.
This lie that I will fly.
I can try to fly.
My time to fly is nigh.
If I fly, I’ll die.
I buy the lie to fly so high.
I fly to strive to try.
My eyes grow wide with pride.
I lied to fly so high I’d die.
I try my lie that I will fly.
My cry will fly so high.
My time to fly is nigh.
I fly to try to strive.
Can I just try to fly?
I fly with no cry to die.
I fly so high I cry.
I lie as I try to fly.
My try is that I’d fly so high.
I lie to fly so high.
I try by the by.
My cry will lie and die.
Don’t try to fly so high.
I hide to not fly so high I’d die.
I cry, why can’t I fly?
I grow my grand lie to fly so high.
I cry as I fly.
I want to try to fly.
I must fly to not die.
When I fly so high, I die.
Why lie when I can fly?
I must try to fly.
I fly so high I’ll die.
Less try. Just fly. Don’t die.
Blast from the Past:
But why long for wings?
My shoulders’ pang for freedom
Has kept me grounded.
Dinner exploding
In my gut
I wake
Cramping
Blast from the Past:
I think I am now
Ready for sleep to find me
Finally
New poem
In my ever building quest
To write something down
Blast from the Past:
Some days, your haiku’s
Utterly brilliant, but on
Others, it’s like this.
Books books
Everywhere
But not the time to read
Blast from the Past:
Long winded sentence
Making several points at once
Is best read aloud
Walking through your garden
Sifting through your roses
Smelling the lilies in your pond
Everywhere, I cannot help
But feel the lack of your presence
Blast from the Past:
U and I are close
To each other; well at least
Close on the keyboard
I
Hide
To
Not
Fly
So
High
I’d
Die
Blast from the Past:
Painting bedridden,
Flying through a mirror,
Flowers on her corset
(An ode to Frida Kahlo)
Stuck in the desert
All I have left to do is
Kneel down on the ground
And accept the bitterness
Of eating my own heart
(Based on Stephen Crane’s “In the Desert”)
Blast from the Past:
Can there be a song
That gathers rain upon this
Neglected desert?