• The Haiku Project • Day 3 •

• The Haiku Project • Day 3 •

I drowned myself in coloured liquid

And found solid realisation. 

One month from now

One month from now

Where will we be?

What will we do?

What will we see?

Relighting a forgotten fire

Brewing the same old tea

Serving it to a new loved one

Who will he be?

Sharing the bed with a different monster

Re-reading a fairy tale that used to be

Deep in introspection, retrospection

Lose ourselves to epiphany?

For all our past follies

Will we have to pay a fee?

Rid our closets of hidden skeletons

Decorating our souls like a Christmas tree?

Re-changing the date, rewriting our fate

From the past, will we break free?

A month from now, years even

Right here I could be.

• The Haiku Project • Day 2 •

Breaking up with laughter,

Holding on to words,

Falling into poetry,

Hiding in the depths,

Waiting to be rewritten.

• The Haiku Project • Day 1 •

Days are longer,

Smiles are shorter,

Patience is rarer,

So words are lesser,

Thoughts are shallower,

Haikus are dearer.

Anonymity

I often wonder what it would be like

To mean nothing to somebody

I often wonder if it would be the same

As meaning everything to somebody.

Will the shield of dark shadows

Let my honest soul roam bear?

Will the warmth of a spotlight

Allow my bones to dare?

No happy memories for adhesive

No bitter tragedies to damage

No obligations, no justifications

No excuse of burden or baggage.

Will it offer a perspective so straight

Will it untangle my twisted ways

Will the removal of judgmental tomorrows

Ever make way for honest todays?

Sometimes the greatest strength

Sometimes the greatest insecurity

It comforts, and it cripples

How strange is anonymity.

A land called 'Almost There'

I live in a land called ‘Almost there’

It’s pretty much next to the ‘Middle of Nowhere’.

Majority immigrants come from ‘I don’t care’

And many more pour in from ‘I didn’t dare’.

Heavily populated, we live here and there

Just us mediocre souls, geniuses are rare.

We make mistakes we can never repair

With ‘ordinary’ is our longest love affair.

All we ever scored was ‘F’ for ‘Fair’

Procrastination is a talent we innately share.

A land called ‘Genius’ we’re locating in despair

Instead, we’re loyal citizens to the land called ‘Almost there’.

Workhour Whines

First draft. Didn't give enough of a crap for a second look.

Hammer out all your frustration at your PC

Sneak away stealthily before anybody can see.

Extinguish a fiery mood with a pack or two

How to find a place where woes are few?

Escape to unexplored lands with just a blunt

Pump out the adrenaline with a dangerous stunt

Move someplace where all is harmless and new

How to find a place where woes are few?

Curse the living daylights out of the bitch called fate

Write a shabby poem that you definitely hate.

No matter what the means, you can’t beat what’s true

You’ll never find a place where woes are few.