Haiku into the void

Last modified date

Comments: 0

I have been playing with poetry and participating in writing prompts on Twitter. Decided to post what I have so far, here. Prompts may have words to include, a theme or an image for inspiration, maybe a piece of writing.

My Twitter account.

Pink rose detail

I learned the long form of haiku in school, so that is more comfortable for me. Haiku has either {5, 7, 5} or {5, 7, 5, 7, 7} syllables per line. I find it a rather good thinking excersise to consider both; the form of haiku, and the prompts in my writing. Some prompts make the subject a little awkward for me. I feel my text becomes pompous. Lack of experience is showing.

If you wish to try this yourself, search for some hashtags on Twitter, and look for the person posting specific prompts, to keep up. Or you can look through my list for starters.


Lips painted red, out.
Exposed and vulnerable.
You found the answer.
Adjusting the light, Divine.
Tuned to your true frequency.

Written for trans pride, by an ally.

Original post with tags. (Late night mistakes fixed in comments).


There was no reason,
other than, well, destiny.
No need to resist.
Nothing to hide, excuse.
Just the way she looked at me.

Original post with tags


Complacent smiles feed
the jaded outlook in life
Cultivated by
people who spin everything
to their own advantage.

Original post with tags

Frequency correct.
I’m reporting from the scene.
Despite Ocean storms,
there is nothing but vapid
ego fueled drama going on.

Original post with tags


To test your honour,
asking you to sacrifice
your serenity,
the peace of mind you have found
in your garden, they approach.

Original post with tags


Just on occasion,
experiencing sweet bliss,
permixtion of self
with something complicated,
someone else, fachinated.

Original post with tags


If you take flowers
in the light Midsummer Night
for summer magic,
put them under your pillow.
I hope you see your power.

Original post with tags


Words cut, unthinking.
Refusing to be a clone,
insisting on truth
we are punished forever.
Hear the way they speak of us?

Original post with tags


If ever I fall
down in the dumps, bitter, sad,
my best friend shows up
and says the right things to me
just *is* the right thing for me.

This was written for Jackie.

Original post with tags


Life interrupted
ambition slashed to pieces,
Had I ever been
experiencing the highs
I had been imagining?

Original post with tags


I feel like the wind
quietly approaching you
until close enough
to suddenly yell: Hello!
And I steal your breath away.

Original post, no tags


A likely story,
receiving enough credit
for what I did here.
We were told to work hard now,
as if we were not burnt out.

Incredible though,
paying pittens for years, while
complaining about
our attitude and demands,
while getting rich on our backs.

Original post with tags


We slip off our rides.
Comet number thirteen flies
over us as we
pause to take in the sheer scale
of the expanding wastelands.

Original post with tags


I have been trying
Not to give you too much thought.
But here I sit, still,
Writing, and then rewriting
things you never heard me say

Original post with tags. Inspired by character and art by @maxinevee


Thunder sounds muffled,
Like metal sheets being thrown,
my windows humming.
A few drops hit the sill.
Louder, harsher. More urgent.

Original post, no tags


Safety is on now.
A torus of protection
surrounds us all night.
I lean on my poleaxe.
Hard to let go of defence.

Original post with tags


Lily feels almost
as if the night will protect
and justify all
actions and thoughts hidden in
it’s presence, even her own.

Original post with tags


Might it be that luck
was only penultimate
superpower
saught,
on your insatiable quest
for that simple magic pill?

Original post with tags


When you yell at me
and keep at it long enough,
I snap, the scapegoat
And I become unhappy
While you feel release, mood lifts.

Original post with tags


Things I hold most dear:
Kids with silly ideas,
parents still in love.
Auntie role shared with sister.
Friends and family mixing.

Original post with tags


Where does your mind go,
sitting by the deep water?
Imagination,
trapped thoughts of a jailbird,
sinking quickly like your heart.

Original post with tags


Old oak leaning against rock
bark graying in the glow of day.

This is a story in 12 words. Original post with tags.


Wow, these were all written since May 11th. A little less than a month, since I reset my Twitter. They are organized from latest to oldest.


White porcelain vase in closeup, has blue roses and a gold line painted on it. The poem goes: Thought about the past - Grandma finished this vase with gold. I love her brushstrokes. The delicate blue flowers. Remembering our visits.
This was posted on my Instagram stories.

Share

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

Post comment