
A day of rest and
Maybe a nap if only
I could fall asleep
Blast from the Past:
Nothing like a song
With engaging lyrics to
Inspire a haiku.
The Cracked Door – Daily Haikus
Reflections on life, the world, and society. Come explore with me.
Poems about writing poetry or writing in general

A day of rest and
Maybe a nap if only
I could fall asleep
Blast from the Past:
Nothing like a song
With engaging lyrics to
Inspire a haiku.

May you read my words
As if they were more humble
Than I intended
When I originally
Put them on paper for you
Blast from the Past:
I wrote this haiku in Python, a programming language.
def haiku_maker():
for x in [5, 7, 5]:
print(random_word(x))

Poetry is the
Window into
The impossible
Through the words of
The possible
Blast from the Past:
To learn what is possible,
You must cross into
The impossible.

Writing a poem
While whizzing by on the back
Of a motorbike
Blast from the Past:
The world must slow down,
Or be less intriguing that
I can fly through it.

I sit here thinking
Up the poem I will write
One word at a time
Blast from the Past:
I must write one of
These haikus. If only I had
Any inspiration.

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

Some days you have time
To think up a great haiku,
Others this must do
Blast from the Past:
This is the haiku
That never ends. Keeps going
On and on… Oh wait.

// A Java Haiku
public static void
haiku(String cheese) {
System.out.print(cheese); }
Today, I felt like writing a haiku in Java. It’s a programming pun, based on the common word “string” in programming lexicon but also the idea of string cheese.
Blast from the Past:
‘ Haiku in Basic
print(five_word_sentence$)
print(five_word_sentence$+ ” and then”)
print(five_word_sentence$)

Writer’s paradox
Literature simulates life
Impossible shepherds
Blast from the Past:
Graphic medicine
Eye of a budding writer
I’m so sick of words