100 Days of Haiku [11-20]

Day 11:

“My Love, we have time!”
But I see Mortality
Sliding down our throats.

Day 12:

I used not to care
What anyone thought of me.
I call that freedom.

Day 13:

On my ass all day,
No plan for a single thing –
Except this haiku.

Day 14:

How silly I am
To shoot my lens at the moon!
That glow – too subtle.

Day 15:

Too tired some nights
To write, to think, to try.
And yet, here is this.

Day 16:

Asleep in your bed,
To wide awake in your bed,
To sleeping again.

Day 17:

Put our past away.
No polishing off the dust.
Burn it, if you must.

Day 18:

Couches, cats, paintings,
Kids, music, sex, money, God.
 Je sais, je divague.

Day 19:

It is receding
Under my scarred, aging skin.
Slowly – my beauty.

Day 20:

I was weeping… drunk
On the impossible past –
For other reasons.

ABOUT THIS POEM? FIND IT HERE : ABOUT MY POETRY

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