Tag Archives: Senryu


evening breeze
clock hands
stand still

her pillow
leans against the wall
peeled off waiting

Linked to Carpe Diem #1472 emptiness


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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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“A little girl like you shouldn’t be out after 7 pm”, I said when I noticed her chestnut eyes glued on me.

“When I was a kid, I had to be in bed just after the cartoon. You know, a cartoon was starting at 7:15 and it never lasted more then 5 minutes. Look at the clock! It shows 19:19 and you haven’t brushed your teeth yet”, I continue to preach.

She stands there, saying nothing, just looking at me and making me feel that I owe her something.

It must be that I’ve disappointed her somewhere along the way. I wish if could find out exactly when and where. I would put the most wonderful smile on her face again, I promise.

in the sky
pole star


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in the night breeze
open petals 

down the petals 

na noćnom povetarcu
raširene latice

niz latice
kapi kiše


1 Comment

Posted by on 12/05/2018 in Feel the word, Miss Desire!


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moonless night
with whom to share
unwritten verses?

noć bez mesečine
sa kim da delim
nenapisane strofe?

Linked to Carpe Diem Romancing Haiku #3 first love


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32804 one-bun

At the end

of a journey, I realize that all my attempts to write a right thing failed because, as always, I read what was written in my mind but not on the screen

sudden rain – her tears dried up long ago

Linked to Carpe Diem #1420 Tears (one-bun)


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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.

in a mild breeze
drops of dew

Linked to Carpe Diem #1419 Rose Garden (kikobun)


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I’m my own teacher and an apprentice.

in the bushes along the road – signposts

Linked to Carpe Diem #1417 apprentice (one-bun)


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Without a joke, spring breaks through the old wooden fence.

following the scent of lilac – a restless heart


Linked to Carpe Diem #1415 Perfume of Spring (one-bun)


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The gate closed behind me and once again, an old goalkeeper in a glass hut sinked into a dream in front of his black-and-white monitor.
As I drive back, I breathe deeply, trying to pull into myself even the thinest sun’s ray that runs through the still bare branches.
Then I stop and stand in front of the familiar stone wall. Fingering over the letters, I read once more the well-known rules.
Sometimes it takes so little for happiness – a couple of warm words and a kiss for a good morning.

plum brandy
and a rising sun
balms for a wound

Linked to Carpe Diem’s Crossroads #5 scent of plum blossoms


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