
I stare at the screen
Pure blankness, taking in the
Pleasures of boredom
Blast from the Past:
Technology may
Kill creativity by
Killing our boredom
The Cracked Door – Daily Haikus
Reflections on life, the world, and society. Come explore with me.

I stare at the screen
Pure blankness, taking in the
Pleasures of boredom
Blast from the Past:
Technology may
Kill creativity by
Killing our boredom

Old memories haunt
As an oozing infection
If you don’t tend to them
Blast from the Past:
It’s like a ghost
That’s been following us both
Vague and unseen

A one cup coffee
Pick me up zooms me into
The hyped stratosphere
(I’m so buzzed that I may just take over the world today.)
Blast from the Past:
If only I’d pause
In this transitory world
To smell the flowers

I strive to try to fly.
My lie is that I’d fly so high.
I cry each time I fly so high.
This lie that I will fly.
I can try to fly.
My time to fly is nigh.
If I fly, I’ll die.
I buy the lie to fly so high.
I fly to strive to try.
My eyes grow wide with pride.
I lied to fly so high I’d die.
I try my lie that I will fly.
My cry will fly so high.
My time to fly is nigh.
I fly to try to strive.
Can I just try to fly?
I fly with no cry to die.
I fly so high I cry.
I lie as I try to fly.
My try is that I’d fly so high.
I lie to fly so high.
I try by the by.
My cry will lie and die.
Don’t try to fly so high.
I hide to not fly so high I’d die.
I cry, why can’t I fly?
I grow my grand lie to fly so high.
I cry as I fly.
I want to try to fly.
I must fly to not die.
When I fly so high, I die.
Why lie when I can fly?
I must try to fly.
I fly so high I’ll die.
Less try. Just fly. Don’t die.
Blast from the Past:
But why long for wings?
My shoulders’ pang for freedom
Has kept me grounded.

Giant razor clams
Open to suddenly slam shut
Teasing what’s inside
Blast from the Past:
Inside a conch shell
Cradled by the ocean’s sighs,
At peace from it all

Pinky, not the Brain,
Is the one who understands
The world’s meaning: Narf!
Blast from the Past:
Nothing’s better than
Achieving your long-sought goal
To feel hollowness.

Signs litter the land
Watch out for them, but where are
These cassowaries?
Blast from the Past:
Now that I finished
All of my tasks, emptiness
Washes over me

A midnight meeting
Woke up in the back of my van
To talk to the US
Blast from the Past:
A job will take all that you are willing to give it.
(An aphorism)

The gentle breeze sweeps
Across the stale heat along
The dusty desert
Blast from the Past:
I’m in the hot sun
Swaying in my seat trying
To produce a breeze

I sit here thinking
Up the poem I will write
One word at a time
Blast from the Past:
I must write one of
These haikus. If only I had
Any inspiration.