micropoetry Archives - Page 32 of 62 - The Cracked Door

11/04/25 A New Haiku for a New Day

Writing a poem
While whizzing by on the back
Of a motorbike

Blast from the Past:

The world must slow down,
Or be less intriguing that
I can fly through it.

Get off while you can.
You were never that good at
Riding high horses.

Blast from the Past:

I know too much to not know that I know too little about your situation to judge it.

(An aphorism)

Tears, smears, fists, and gists
I work and hurt, shrug and hug,
Reeling and healing

Blast from the Past:

Words words words words words
Words words words words words words words
Words words words words hug

Too much excitement
Late at night and now I can’t
Drift back into sleep

Blast from the Past:

Lying in bed
Trying to count my way to
Infinity…

As my eyelids close,
The constant blares of traffic
Help to remind me
That the city does not join me
In slowly drifting to sleep

Blast from the Past:

A massive skyline
Peeks to seek, to spot, to scale
Manicured mountains

Sleepy morning when
I can finally relax
After so much fun

Blast from the Past:

As I return home,
There is nothing for me, yet
There is everything

Waking the morning after
The apocalypse that never came.
What do you do now
That you have your whole life ahead of you?

Blast from the Past:

I’m thinking about
The end of the world—how bored
It is making me.

There at the water
That all animals must drink,
The crocodile waits

Blast from the Past:

The frog leaps forward,
The first to charge forth and get
Splattered by a car

A night of bad sleep,
Then a day of much driving
What else till I can rest?

Blast from the Past:

Another day gone.
Unconsciousness welcomes me
Just for a while.

Sitting in the sun
A cool breeze blowing as we eat
Oysters in the bay

Blast from the Past:

Oh how we help catch
Each other’s breath on the days
We rush everywhere