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Beneath 2Beneath 21 year ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
So still, untroubled,
the water reflects the trees,
its cool depths hidden.
On the river bed, it waits,
the predator. It will strike.
The WayThe Way1 year ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
Ends and beginnings
cycle perpetually.
Yang dances with Yin.
MissingMissing1 year ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
Exiled too long ago,
his adopted town sometimes
seems too alien.
Even after all the years
the streets can still betray him.
Air Force Revisited.Air Force Revisited.1 year ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
Flying fortresses,
dense enough to deflect light
yet insubstantial
Water drops suspended in
the high, thin air, wind sculpted.
(Originally:
Flying fortresses,
solid enough to impede light
yet made of nothing.
Water drops suspended in
the high, thin air, wind sculpted.)
ModelModel1 year ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
The stone is inert.
How could the artist create
such sentience?
Imagine a restless child,
and the sculptor's frayed temper!
RevelationRevelation1 year ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
What can the child know
of an adult's despair?
Will the image remain
to darken his dreams, waking him
as he lies cocooned in night?
AlienationAlienation1 year ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
Life is perplexing,
for them it didn't come right.
Each one thinks alone.
ScrapScrap1 year ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
Neglect, detritus.
Stranded objects make appeal
for reconnection.
But what whole could ever be
of which such remnants are part?
For JasonFor Jason1 year ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
A scene through the eyes
of a cosmic traveller.
Each new world unique.
EnduranceEndurance1 year ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
His destination
seems never to come closer.
What waits for him there?
WildernessWilderness1 year ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
A moment, unowned
it seems. In Siberia,
maybe. Winter sun
etched pale on a glass plate,
mysterious yet empty.
BelittledBelittled1 year ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
The geography
of doubt engulfs the figure,
so very tiny,
his shadow more prominent
than he is. Can he survive?
SagacityDid he love wisdom?Sagacity1 year ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
His love was unrequited.
In his heart he knew
.
none could cultivate the void
from which alone all else grew.
DiscordDiscord1 year ago in Concrete Poetry More Like This
The night was cloudless,
yet she raised her umbrella
against the dark sky.
It was clear he had nothing
to offer. He didn't try.
Explorer 2Explorer 21 year ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
Ghosts cast no shadows.
Shadow borrows its substance
from solidity.
Still the Dreamer must explore
the realm of shadows, all night.
FloweringFlowering1 year ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
Suppose a blossom
could unfold without matter,
beyond dimensions,
might that impossible flower
realise the soul's old dream?
Wonderland Conundrums1Wonderland Conundrums1 year ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
How did white roses
grow in so malevolent
a place? No time left,
even if scarlet paint could
save us. We've reached our last day.
2
A vanishing cat
leaves its grin behind! Can you see
it, lodged in your mind?
I can spot oxymorons
easily. No grin fools me.
WinteringDecay's lush coloursWintering6 months ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
brighten the cooling season,
herald winter's chills.
Dead blossoms remain,
once yellow heads become husks
of breeze tossed summer.
Not the months alone. These are no more than the signs of those ever-returning cycles as the universe continues in its timeless revolutions. Against that backdrop, the rapid blinkings of the cosmic eye, there is to be gained a paradoxical stillness.
Not that I, or any I, will prove to be impervious to change, to the fitful shifts of decay and regeneration. Rather, the strobe-like blinkings seem to freeze my flickering existence. The candle flame is a process of static motion. I too per
Decadent, MetallicAbandoned metalDecadent, Metallic1 year ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
dreams of disintegration,
blacktop forgotten.
Functional no more,
decay imposes its own
brilliant display.
On The PodiumThe art of conductivityOn The Podium1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
as the maestro explained,
is that the man with the baton
serves as a lightning rod,
earthing intuitions from god.
GrievingGrieving9 months ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
The night can blossom,
shadows become dark flowers,
soft petalled velvet.
Flowers seen by sleepless eyes,
when hearts feel only turmoil.
NecropolisThe city of hollow stones … you've visualised it, far distant, as your night thoughts writhe toward those dreamscapes denied you by the stubborn absence of sleep. Pyramids, obelisks, hollow shrines, all tokens of divine possession. In this city, those who are not possessing have been possessed.Necropolis1 year ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
This valley of departed kings has long since succumbed to the sand blasting of desert storms, buried deeply now beneath an ocean of dunes. Still the lost city's blind gods watch over the emptied spaces jealously.
Here past and future
will never part company,
fused in stasis.
Sta.sh
