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Literature Text
Sea blue sky is scarred,
Touched by fluffy streams of white,
Chasing paper planes.
Touched by fluffy streams of white,
Chasing paper planes.
Literature
CCCXVII
mist rising
from a morning pond
... those baptized today
Literature
Self-Contained
i
I lack the feeling of touch.
I grasp at any warmth
Of voices, of eyes
I am a thief of kind words not meant for me.
ii
The cherry tree bloomed while I wasn’t looking.
I retreat into wires and lies
My veins carry dust and my soul is heavy
The small petals are so much of my past.
iii
I break promises to myself.
But I also break silences
And lost causes meant to be found
I have learned that I breathe the power to heal.
iv
Friends can come and go and return.
I keep their laughs with me because
Stories last forever, right?
Words can outlive bone and page and stone.
Literature
In the Syllable
...then there is a way in diswaiting.
Dust some yellow sand covers,
here uncover bare bedding.
...suffusing red planes, blushed dunes,
under incidentally quilted blanket
wet as arid curves, as sounds.
...in a persistent pavement,
in a solemn unsuited promise,
some written words erase
some letters drip and soak
unto a perfuse miracle,
a dislocated split,
a letting go of...
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A very random haiku, written due to the rather summery weather we have had in the UK in the past few days >.< Feedback and comments pleeeease?
© 2010 - 2024 hannahdavies666
Comments20
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This is a really short, sweet haiku. I it =] xx