“A poet is a nightingale, who sits in darkness and sings to cheer its own solitude with sweet sounds.” -Percy Bysshe Shelley
Showing posts with label Haiku IX. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Haiku IX. Show all posts
Sunday, April 5, 2015
An Orchard of Golden Apples for Eris
Haiku IX
Independence is
a fruitless tree of no-ledge
fallen far from roots
Image of painting by Dante Gabriel Rossetti (1828-1882), "My Lady Greensleeves" c. 1864 (w/apple blossoms)[Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Perdue
Yet from far away you catch someone's eye like a tiny ripple you feel, eventually. It reminds you about touch and the permeable skin wr...
-
A year ago this May, in fact, upon this same very grey day- something came over me I found could say, in no other way but to portray, ...
-
Natures touch is both gentle and fierce. Homo sapiens trample on her back. The thick skin impossible to pierce. So...
-
Failure is all the rage these days. I have been practicing, and I understand the rage. Someone said that melancholy is tragedy handled well....
