
When you tell the truth,
Why does it so often seem
To sound like a lie?
Blast from the Past:
We breathed white lies to
The blue sky but could not melt
The summer black ice.
The Cracked Door – Daily Haikus
Reflections on life, the world, and society. Come explore with me.

When you tell the truth,
Why does it so often seem
To sound like a lie?
Blast from the Past:
We breathed white lies to
The blue sky but could not melt
The summer black ice.

Slowly, softly seized
Faces whose eyes stare at me
I’m an empty stage
Blast from the Past:
Staring into the
Abyss of sinister scorn
And shame seethingly

Talent for dreaming
A slumber of mysteries
Color of boredom
Blast from the Past:
Inspiration comes
From within your minds eye but
So does writer’s block.

In the faint shadows
God robbed of her universe
Invisible chasm
Blast from the Past:
Secret inwardness
The dying away from self
God and the finite

Lush streams flow water
Down the side of the hill to
The creek far belowCovered with green plants
And flowers as it curves through
The valley it formedIt almost wants to
Be beautiful, except it
Is littered by trashThe urban build squelches the
Beauty of the land itself
(This is a haiku sonnet, three haikus and then two final lines to make up a type of sonnet.)
Blast from the Past:
The once vibrant marsh
Polluted by trains, lanes, and
Industrial sludge

Modes of inertia
Understand recent changes
Danger overtaking
Blast from the Past:
The pauses mix up
Life’s climactic transitions
Broken by stillness

My thoughts race as I
Try to focus on less than
Seven things at once
Blast from the Past:
In the twilight lies
An oasis of strange thoughts
Flowing through my mind

Contemplate, not think
Non-light that illumines dreams
Vast depths of a truth
Blast from the Past:
Climbing temple stairs,
Breaking here to contemplate
My mortality

You can never hope
When you think you have all that
You need in your life
Blast from the Past:
Climbing to then fall
Fossilized in poverty
Hoping for rebirth

An imagined past
A prologue of the future
Just makeshift maybes
Blast from the Past:
Nostalgia
Hiding your bias:
That was how it used to be.
Bogus history.