micropoetry Archives - Page 18 of 57 - The Cracked Door

02/02/26 A New Haiku for a New Day

Great minds think alike.
Great anthropologists ask
Too many questions.

Blast from the Past:

An aphorism:

Those who stop asking questions die inside.

May you read my words
As if they were more humble
Than I intended
When I originally
Put them on paper for you

Blast from the Past:

I wrote this haiku in Python, a programming language.

def haiku_maker():
for x in [5, 7, 5]:
print(random_word(x))

Contours carve faces
Each wrinkle is a chapter
In my history

Blast from the Past:

Life promises the
Illusion of improvement
Until death renegs

Poetry is the
Window into
The impossible
Through the words of
The possible

Blast from the Past:

To learn what is possible,
You must cross into
The impossible.

Stuck home in the rain
While my heart roams free, yearning
For an adventure

Blast from the Past:

No one noticed how
The stone would dream
Of the sun.

What comes of the day
With morning’s quiet passing?
After the dew fades.

Blast from the Past:

As long as it’s here
As long as it’s here at last,
I will be happy

What questions persist,
What keeps you going
After the dew fades

Blast from the Past:

Because I did nothing,
Because I did too much,
Because I did not intervene enough,
Because I interjected too much,
I am leaving your because

New day, new motions,
The same cycle of the sun
After the dew fades

Blast from the Past:

Why do we go through
The motions of living if
The results the same?

After the dew fades,
You must face a new bright day
Again and again

Blast from the Past:

Why must learning be
So slow and agonizing,
Redone each new day

As my youth simmers,
Some parts harden into me
After the dew fades

Blast from the Past:

Young kids stare amazed
Fingers typing, “Dupe dupe dupe!”
At the typewriter