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Tag Archives: micropoetry

Cherita 9 – 30907

Maybe one day
I’ll open the window
and grab the Moon,

steal it from the evil eyes,
pull toward me and hide

into my pocket where it belongs.

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32906

There is something sweet in the longing and uncertainty. When you finally get to the top and you look down, everything that frightened you before suddenly looks nicer somehow. Expectation and sweet stage fright, butterflies in your belly. Now you long for that feeling again – to feel just for a moment, sweet trembling and a fear of the unknown.

 

I feel like it’s time for some changes and the new beginnings.

If you like what I do, please follow me on my new blog: Downy Dreams

 

 

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32706

crackling
from the first spark to ash
firewood

Linked to Carpe Diem’s Renga Challenge #2 logged tree

Maybe this doesn’t fit the prompt, but this is what I got 🙂

 

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H(aibun) H(aiga) H(aiku)

30205

If he was alive, James Dean and I would celebrate our birthdays on the same date. When I was young, I was really proud of that fact and very often I quoted a famous statement connected to him: “Live fast, die young, and leave a good-looking corpse.” Of course, I never wanted to die young, but I liked those charisma and the rebellion that shined from him.

How strongly I disagree nowadays! Die young and leave a good looking corpse? Beauty is something that shines from within and that’s the only way for me to measure someone’s charisma. Some people become old in the young age and some are young with the gray hair and wrinkles all over the skin.

At some point of my life, I found myself very old, almost dead. Then I woke up again with the spring sun and no intention to return back into the winter dream.

wooden boat
waiting for a sailor
May after May

 

30105

“Write a poem about me”, he begged. “Are you my prince?”, I asked. “You’ll never find out if you don’t kiss me”, he replied. At that moment, I noticed a dead dragonfly under the dock.

goodbye frog!
I give up
on haiku

draft message 
waits to be deleted
new moon

33004

almost midnight
sound of brakes
through the window

32904

 

 

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32604

I can’t exactly remember when some of my dreams turned into reality, but it’s strange how they suddenly ceased to be dreams. And then – what? A man without dreams is like a rose without petals. Only thorns, dried up, left to frighten ill-intentioned fingers.

Someone wise wrote: “If you love a flower, don’t pick it up.” I haven’t seen this warning earlier or maybe I was just too young to understand so I’ve cut some buds here and there, I admit.

trembling
in a mild breeze
drops of dew

Linked to Carpe Diem #1419 Rose Garden (kikobun)

 

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20804 (one-bun)

on the other side of a stream a pair of wild rabbits chasing each other, while above them a couple of falcons spread their wings

from flower to flower in a meadow of love – two butterflies

Linked to Carpe Diem #1406 Meadow (one-bun)

 
 

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30704

On a dusty window glass – a symbol of eternity drawn by a finger before walkout. Still my thoughts wrap and knit the eights along the frame set long ago. Nothing’s happening. Just sometimes, an unrest or two fly through the small holes of the night and disappear, or become caught and twisted into infinity losing all rights for a breath. How many rains need to fall to wash away the last sigh born on the departure?

small leaf
on a dry branch
hint of happiness

Linked to Carpe Diem #1404 Happiness (short-haibun)

 

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32303

Every single time, before I get into the taxi cab, I pay attention on its’ number. I don’t know why, I never memorize them. I have no clue what number I saw today, but when I opened the door and heard that horrible music, I knew it was him! Poor man, he has no idea how famous he is. Maybe not to others, but in my World he surely is since the morning when my Higher Self jumped into his body and asked me about the things I should ask myself. After that drive. I become upset every time when I see his face, but seems like he doesn’t remember me at all. He has never spoken to me again and to be honest, I hope he never will. What happened that day? I really don’t know, but I know that today I’m standing face to face with all my dreams buried long time ago.

oh, this breeze
familiar melody 
as a lullaby

Linked to Carpe Diem #1395 The Dream

 

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31403

You are getting old, aren’t you? Me, too, faster and faster. Somehow, this spring rain decided to water me, like a seed placed into the ground. I don’t rejoice too much, I have to say. I hope that I don’t sound too gloomy while I grumble looking for the colors in these March days.

We are what we see in others, I know. That’s why I wonder how may different worlds settled down inside of me. Is my heart so huge?

I try to figure out where the dreams go when the raindrops disperse them from the pillows. Maybe they just hide somewhere under the beds and wait for some other magical morning while we seek for them under the other’s coats. I dunno.

empty bowl
in a beggar’s hand
sky fills with tears

Linked to Carpe Diem #1389 Begging Bowl

 

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31303

Set free
tonight
those words
unsaid
glued
on the top
of the lips
colored in
ripe apricot
Let them go
and wander
Let them collide
and melt with
all unpaired
souls
who seek
for each other
tonight
under the stars

eyes closed
touch of the night
under the skin

Linked to Carpe Diem #1388 The Community Of The Spirit

Haiga

20150803_061717

 

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