The Cracked Door – Daily Haikus
Reflections on life, the world, and society. Come explore with me.
Poems about society
(My poem for today is a tanka.)
Bolting to the street
In such a rush I forget
To even decide
How I will get around or
Even where I am going
Blast from the Past:
Rapids rinse water
Free of color – too rushed to
Reflect its world back
Bungling populist
Bloke you can get a drink with
Bountiful evil
Blast from the Past:
Just a sinister
Attempt to build a cult of
Personality
We didn’t start the fire,
But we profit from the smoke.
Dancing in its flames.
Blast from the Past:
What is this world?
It’s a world of fire and salt
Where nothing is real
Unless it is in ashes
Oh beautiful city
Towers of human ingenuity
Rising step by step
To discover its true embrace in
Death
Blast from the Past:
Perfect, synchronized
Machinery performing
Humanization
Today I wrote an aphorism instead of a poem:
Instead of asking whether someone is a good person, sometimes the better question to ask is who are they a good person to? Some people are only good to themselves and maybe those closest to them.
Blast from the Past:
Each day, two choices:
Cast out the bad out of yourself,
Or receive the good.
More more more
Everyday more
Don’t stop until you drop
Blast from the Past:
Conversations and
Then conversing followed by
More conversations
(Sorry. I haven’t posted my daily haikus in the last couple days. I was busy at a wedding. I wrote the haikus on those days but didn’t have time to post them. They will be up soon.)
Motorbikes, cars, and people
Whiz by, the constant motion
Of Java
Blast from the Past:
The world keeps spinning
While I sit still and ponder
It’s ceaseless motion
The head of a rock
Hellbent on moving “forward”
Towards violence
Blast from the Past:
A generation
Who never knew war heralds
Trauma for the next
A day spent with friends
Talking about life in this
Strange place we call earth
Blast from the Past:
Sit by the fire
Contemplating cruelty
Man shows to others
Like a galaxy,
Oh the wondrous beauty of
Street trash in the rain
Blast from the Past:
Tick tock of the clock
With the faint trickle underneath
Of a gushing stream