Page 60 – The Cracked Door

9/10/24 Haiku for the Day

I crawl back into
That space of
Unfamiliarity.

Blast from the past:

Earth, how big you are,
And how small we humans are
In comparison?

Pathways of power
The world lit only by fire
Strength in what remains

Blast from the Past:

She loved reading books
To candlelight that with age,
Her eyes strain to read.

I wrote today’s poem in the Python programming language.

for each_new_day in life():

if only():

print(“Always happy”)

Blast from the Past:

The art of “freedom”:
Postindustrial promise
Servicing the self

To ignore is to
Destroy. Deconstruction’s the
Only way to preserve

Blast from the Past:

Passion is a fierce,
Enlivening sadness which
I’ll never deny

We face a battle.
We aren’t going to fight it,
But we will win it.

Blast from the Past:

The tongue is a rope
That can give just enough slack
To hang yourself with

Do not preach at me
When you don’t take the time to
First hear my story.

Blast from the past:

Deep within you is
The desire for no more war
Despite what happened

Wounded, cowering
But not slain, the defeated
Shall rise again soon.

Blast from the past:

The temple of man,
The beginning of knowledge:
A distant mirror.

I closed my suitcase,
Finally twisting it shut.
Now my arm twists

Blast from my past:

But if I am so
Different from these poets,
How can they move me?

Who I am is not
Who I am now, and now I
Suffer the whiplash

Blast from the past:

After growing big,
The giant bunny still feared
Itty-bitty snakes.

There in the rubble
Of what I do not yet know,
I decide to sit.

Blast from the past:

Never look backwards.
The person you had just been
Faded into dark.