Nonagonal Ingthamtha Haiku

and Instantaneous Impressions of Life on a
Chilly Winter Morning When the Universe is
Conspiring to Kick You Out of Your Bed
Because You Got to Earn a Fucking Livelihood

November Fog by Axel Kuhlmann, from Public Domain Pictures

Misty morning blues
Thick layers of air—no view,
Goodbyes see no hearts

Inside heavy clothes
No one sees the hidden loots
The society’s shits

Bombs, bullets and blood
Explosion, firing, flowing
God got a big ass

Dewdrops on the grass
Soft smell from the shrubs so fresh
Dry lips, harder kiss

The lightest fog covers
A drib quite enough to wet
Cold flowers, cold leaves

How would it taste like?
Maybe only the Death knows
Living’s too busy.

Room heater, Old Monk
Pork, spinach, and etc;
Hei, and etc

It’s all relative
Warm hands on flesh that’s no warm
Cold hands, dead feelings.

We have lived our dreams
When the universe conspires
Time stops; memories.

Winter Seasons by George Hodan. from Public Domain Pictures

Trending Posts

A Political Gimmick to Seek the Details of Framework Agreement


Sonia Bags the 2017 Young Achiever’s Award

If You Believe Election Will Bring Social Change, Here’s an Idea Why That Is Quite a Misconception

The Others