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Blossoms in winter
Like you
Hold their secrets
Friday haiku 5
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Tag Archives: illusion
Point
Do we comprehend reality?
That, finally, all we are
are faults in time, enough to pause
the relentless entropic urge,
but never to stop it?
All humanity has imagined
that it alone was the point,
all those nameless, greaseless corpses,
a poverty of sand and wind.
Who ever remembers them?
We have our own issues,
our own duty,
to create a universe
to be forgotten in its turn.
Forgiveness
Like not the wayward urge,
taste not the open door;
it’s too early to think of myth,
too late apology.
When was it ever promised
that the world would
spin just so, to please even
the least of us?
Oh, yes, tremble, by all means,
at the darkening sky,
but don’t imagine it’s just for you.
You have not the significance
of the least comma.
The universe stops not
its droning hum to check
your preference, the world suits
neither you nor me,
not the grave winds of change,
nor the plodding steadfast crag;
neither is it what it seems,
and no less are you.
Ritual
Alone in virtual demise,
words swerving through scorched air,
demands of justice colliding
with pure fear, coerced
or otherwise.
Inclination be damned,
maybe the time for fierceness
has come and gone,
-too many dead,
too many still living –
shall we stand up to each other
as easily as we stand together
when it costs nothing?
Out of the wild
My poor broken child,
Has life been unkind?
Is there no one to lift you?
Your time, it’s true, was dark
A world of silhouettes, cigarette smoke,
A place where light faltered,
Intimidated, burdened
With the smell of whiskey.
The wind blew tough at night,
When only fear lit the path ahead.
So here we are, the last of us,
Swizzle-eyed and weary,
Our wounds only for imagining;
I find these signs vexing.
Into the night with us, then
Let’s take what we can carry,
Let the rest decay.
exiles child 