
The massive wave bows
Letting me catch a glimpse of
The island behind
Blast from the Past:
Gently lapping waves,
Soothing swooshes and crashes
The ocean’s heartbeat
The Cracked Door – Daily Haikus
Reflections on life, the world, and society. Come explore with me.

The massive wave bows
Letting me catch a glimpse of
The island behind
Blast from the Past:
Gently lapping waves,
Soothing swooshes and crashes
The ocean’s heartbeat

Musical complaints
Becoming realities
A divine regret
Blast from the Past:
Standing in line
At life’s theater waiting for
Waiting for Godot

The sun imprints streams of red
Across the dark sky
‘Fore making clouds give way
For its grand entrance
This one is my first attempt at a kouta (a 7575 syllable style of poem).
Blast from the Past:
The bright, sunny day
And the tempestuous storm
Both drown out the moon

Dark night of itself
Terrifying silence
Nobody likes me
Blast from the Past:
Make peace with darkness
Cold and broken call of love
Embrace the stillness

Loud machine
Slowly turns
Its cornerGusts of wind
Push into
Your bodyIt stays there
Unaware
Of its blast
(This one is about standing next to one of the really big planes as it turns the corner to take off. It’s also a tricube poem.)
Blast from the Past:
You have no control
Over the great machine that is
Civilization

The feelings that hurt
To act that’s the true wisdom
Shipwreck of my soul
Blast from the Past:
Unsure what to feel
Facing another day where
Everything’s in flux.

Collapse of my life
To listen but hardly hear
What’s in it for you?
Blast from the Past:
How can you stand with
Those who have fallen if you
Are on your two feet?

To build something that
Outlives you, you must learn how
To change the wind’s course.
Blast (or maybe breeze) from the Past:
All that will remain
Of my former self will be
The heralding wind

The blackness of life
First sword of the lightning bolt
Invisible chasm
Blast from the Past:
When the world goes dark,
We get to see the brightness
Of the stars above.

All the lonely souls
What is felt is what is lived
Half-tones of the soul
Blast from the Past:
It is loneliness
That helps us see the glitter
In the broken pot