12/03/25 A New Haiku for a New Day

Photo Credit: Riccardo Cervia

At the edge of who I am, I stand
Determining what it would even mean
To venture forward

Blast from the Past:

I’ve been standing on
The edge of what I have been
And what I could be.

11/23/25 A New Poem for a New Day

Photo Credit: Polina Petrishyna

Flying down the mountain
On the back of a motorbike
Bump, bump, bump throbs my butt
Each thud sliding me further back in the seat
Until I slide into the metal grate
The tiny guard preventing me from flying off the edge

Blast from the Past:

My last chance to feel.
I am this great, unstable
Mess of blood and mud

11/06/25 A New Haiku for a New Day

Photo Credit: Sebastian Deza Carcovich

How come humans can’t
Enjoy what we have without
Suffering for it

Blast from the Past:

Very few people
If they knew the harm they’d cause
Would still go do it

10/19/25 A New Poem for a New Day

Photo Credit: gt39

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.

09/09/24 A New Imayo for a New Day

Photo Credit: alatyren

He kneels for a nice long sob – soft licks smear his face
He turns his glum gaze outwards – his dog pants waiting
Tears breach the dam his eyes held – the dog strides his lap
He whimpers now aware that someone’s there to care

This is my first attempt at an imayo, a form of poetry made of 4 lines. Each is 12 syllables, split into a 7 syllable and 5 syllable section.

Blast from the Past:

Wake happy and cry
By the day’s end. Start doubting
And end satisfied.