Page 66 – The Cracked Door

10/29/24 Haiku for the day

This world of yours
This world that you hold dear
Will become nothing

Blast from the past

Ancient remnants
Reminders that even our
Culture will collapse

In the late morning,
Covers cocoon her body,
A true sleepy head

Blast from the past:

The world will remain
Your oyster tomorrow for now
Just focus on sleep

After you left,
I returned sleep in our bed
And it smelled like you

Blast from the past:

I know there must be
Different worlds, for yours can’t
Make sense within mine

We can’t see those past
Nor know all people to come;
Eternal present

Blast from the past:

To see the future
As if it were. What awful
Past will lead to this?

Stuck in the water
One wave after another
The wind hurls toward

Blast from the past:

Hope is like a life
Preserver: though it may bob
It never sinks down

Out of the ocean,
Rise sparkling buildings like a
Magnifying glass

Blast from the Past:

Stern buildings gazing down
On bare avenues
Through lifeless window panes

Climbing down from their
Pedestal: Looks less severe
In comparison

Blast from the past:

The route is much more
Important to me than the
End destination

Oysters in our beds
Holding tight to protect from
Knowledge’s fierce waves

Blast from the past:

Everything shrinks as
I delve closer to where the
Known and unknown meet

I am a deep gorge,
Basking sulkingly in the
Great sound of silence.

Blast from the past:

When the troll sleeps,
The crows would demand a toll
At the bridge crossing.

With grand eloquence
We build our cultures upon
Our upcoming deaths

Blast from the past:

Ancient Egypt: Once
Everything. Now sand-roofed dunes.
All societies end.