The Realist: A Haiku
“It is full,” I say
when I look at the empty.
It is full. I say.
Our Why
In hope, or pain
Or hope-filled pain
Or hope that the pain will go to hell
We walk forward
Sufferage
This body
The nonsense
It suffers
Oh
Balmy
Keep your kisses
From my neck
Save them
Save me
Until, at last
Saturday
ampere
Out
good ache
I wish it day
I wish it night
With the aura surrounded by each
I want for work
I want for play
And the reward, the peace of mind -key!
Fire Works
The Asunder: A Haiku
The proof I gave up
Or proof that I still had hands
Shaking, but yet strong?
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