Category: poetry

  • experience life

    take a picture
    make a flower
    wake a dog
    chant a rhyme
    plant a tree
    grant a wish
    smell a breeze
    repel a weed
    tell a tale
    steam a meal
    esteem a field
    dream a cloud
    create a thing
    rate a herb
    bait a herring
  • juicing haiku

    a glass
    full of lush grass green
    tasting delicious

    — celery juice

    bitter sweet
    with a touch of cinnamon
    amber coloured

    — apple juice

  • writers block

    looking for stars
    finding voids
    taking a break
    working even harder
    grasping for straws
    touching nothing
    trying to concentrate
    getting distracted
    starting to write
    losing focus
    delaying to another day
    hoping for a better outcome
  • Guess what they are?

    they’re out there to get us

    they hunt us

    they stalk us like prey

    lurking behind every counter

    waiting for us, waiting that we make a mistake

    watching every step we take

    coming to life at the slightest sign of weakness

    roaring, pursuing us like the wild animals we are to them

    to be hunted, to be herded into cages, for our own protection they say

    until we do it ourselves and huddle up in our homes

    of fear to go out there

    to encounter more of them

    they’re everywhere

    defining our landscapes, using our spaces, devouring our resources

    and we?

    we encourage and enable them to do what they want

    we watch them day in day out destroying our environment, our livelihood, our means to survive

    until the day we go out there and stand up together for our shared future, take back what is ours, reclaim our spaces and start living, being free again

    Yes, I’m talking about cars.

  • folk dance

    clap clap
    thump thump
    swish swish
    strum strum
    hands in the air
    feet on the ground
    bodies twirling
    instruments playing
    hearing the laughter
    feeling the enjoyment
    everyone's joining
    to celebrate life
  • autopilot

    counting the minutes
    waiting for the bus
    counting the pages
    reading during transfer
    counting the steps
    taking the stairs
    more reading
    more stairs
    more transfers
    when did I lose count?
    around 500?
    around 1000?
    obviously I don't care any more
    obviously I know the way by heart now
    obviously I am on autopilot
  • resting

    a prickling sensation
    like tiny insects
    crawling through the veins
    stretching legs
    flapping wings
    whipping the tail
    shaking of the tension
    making the insects go away
    feeling the need to rest
    lying down
    curling up
    taking a nap
  • break down

    at the faintest sound
    ready to freeze
    at the tiniest glimpse
    ready to run
    at the slightest touch
    ready to fight
    every fiber in the body
    prepared for survival
    ready all the time
    prepared for every occasion
    still building up the tautness
    still tightening more and more
    never feeling any of the tension
    never sensing the strain
    until the tiny cracks appear
    and the muscles tear apart
    a burning sensation
    a lack of strength
    everything tumbling down
    everything breaking apart
    no energy left
    just endless rest
  • pasta á la haiku

    burning hot
    driving tears into my eyes
    enjoying dinner

    — elbow pasta with arrabbiata sauce

    meaty sauce
    rich in tomatoes
    freshly cooked

    — fusilli pasta with bolognese sauce

  • daily input

    too bright
    too dim

    too loud
    too noisy

    too pungent
    too fragrant

    too bland
    too savory

    too hot
    too cold

    too tight
    too loose

    too crowded
    too cramped

    too much sensory input
    every day