
Oh American Dream,
I lie here wondering if
I can wake from you
Blast from the Past:
Only time you get
To see your dream job is when
You are fast asleep.
The Cracked Door – Daily Haikus
Reflections on life, the world, and society. Come explore with me.

Oh American Dream,
I lie here wondering if
I can wake from you
Blast from the Past:
Only time you get
To see your dream job is when
You are fast asleep.

Unable to know
Which way is up or down. The
Horizon is gone.
Blast from the Past:
I’m at the end of
The road, nowhere else to turn
I sit down and wait

During all of this
You’ll never be able to stop
The arrow of time
(I lost internet for a few days, so I was not able to post the poem I wrote that day until several days later.)
Blast from the Past:
Life is shortened by
Spending time sheltering from
Afternoon showers

The end of the earth
Inability to do
Are you happy now
(I lost internet for a few days, so I was not able to post the poem I wrote that day until several days later.)
Blast from the Past:
The road is bumpy
But the hardship is worth it
The happy ending

The alarm clock blasts
Just as I finally start
Into a nice dream
Blast from the Past:
You’re startled awake
From a dream but have no clue
What happened or why

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