
Blocking catharsis,
Militant ignorance, and
Feigned resolutions
Blast from the past:
Choreographed crowds
When viewed in isolation
All political
The Cracked Door – Daily Haikus
Reflections on life, the world, and society. Come explore with me.

Blocking catharsis,
Militant ignorance, and
Feigned resolutions
Blast from the past:
Choreographed crowds
When viewed in isolation
All political

Staring on the mountain’s peak,
The lands sprawl around me.
Towns come and go,
Tucked between the curves of the mountains,
Mountains which rise and fall
Into the horizon like a wave.All alone, I see my entire world.
Is this all there is?
How can I feel satisfied?
I would always regret
If I never tried my climb
Blast from the past:
Gravity’s the one
Fact everyone knows about
Always there beneath

I did not leave because
I thought the situation was hopeless.I did not leave because
I thought things would continue how they have.I did not leave because
There’s nothing left for me to learn here.I did not leave because
I wasn’t willing to try.The world is big
And sometimes you must expand
To come back
And see the war
As the squabble that it really is.
Blast from the past:
Targets on my head
Cannot bring me to my knees
I cast my shadow.

(Today’s poem is a follow-up from this poem last week:)
I built my home
Where the river pushes
Its racing waters
Into the peaceful oceanWhere people sell
Their renovated traditions
To eager tourists
To afford their shacks
On the side of palace ruinsWhere the birds chirp
And monkeys cry
Warning of my comingWhere my friends
Want to meet in malls
So AC can temporarily remove
The sweltering heat from their livesWhere everyone compresses
The same wheat, corn, and sugar
Into wildly different dishesWhere they bestow me
With precious mass-produced knick-knacks
That I now must press into
My swelling suitcaseWhere I see a new Sisyphus in each place
Rolling a different rock
Up the same mountain
For me to ask whether he’s actually happyWhere I guess good food
Unable to find it again
Amidst the foreign script on their menuWhere a good hotel
Gives way to a bad hotel
To eventually give way to a good one againWhere people ask the same
Three questions about where I’m from,
How long I stay there,
And what I plan to doWhere apples cost
Yet bananas are somehow
Always cheapWhere uniquely majestic birds
All become endangered
By our catsWhere some are afraid
To take their leap
And others too far goneWhere people work
Six days a week
For a monthly income
Less than my plane ticket to get thereWhere the swelling waves
Of curiosity, creativity, and exhaustion
Create the eddies of my lifeWhere my shirt dripping in sweat
From a ten minute walk in the humid sun
Reminds me that here
Even the little things are exertionsWhere the stories of
Others constantly remind me
How I can’t write my ownWhere places
And hikes
And dives
And histories
And cities
Never end,
Always another “and then”
And then, and then, and then
Until even the “and thens” have their own “and thens”Where every adventure blends into one
In the horizon beyond
My closing eyes
Blast from the past:
I have come bearing
A warning of grave danger.
Too bad I forget why.

I too remember
What it is like to always
Be leaving behind
Blast from the past:
I cannot answer
Why any of these conflicts
Were ever started

There is a longing
In every curve that aspires
To infinity
Blast from the past:
Distant galaxies
The bundles of countless stars
Is itself countless

You saw me as just
A part of your day. To me,
You were my day.
Blast from the past:
You already wrote
Your book. I’m just the guy you
Needed to insert.

The bird in the bush
And the squirrel in the tree
Remind me I’m not alone
Blast from the past:
Survival lies in
Taking full advantage of
Your insanities.

Maybe you were meant
To be lost, this unknown
Spot on the map is
Exactly where you were
Supposed to be all along
Blast from the past:
Everything we want
Is so crystal clear until
We win possession

I would expect storms
To take over these calm waters.
It’s getting ready
To explode in my little
Teacup inside which I hide.
Blast from the past:
New definition
Of class—having the means to
Afford a break down.