Look up, a tanka

No matter how low

All the humans around, dig

The horizon is

Always smiling in its time

And thus waiting for you to

Ironic answers at impossible times

A continual prayer

May end up being

Only an answer you’d wish

And at the worst possible time

For you

To see it come into a newfound being

And to exist

This is

Ha

So true

Makes me laugh

Just

Just, just, just

Just is me

For a love of want

Is far different than a love of need

Just as a spatial want

Is different

Close-near and far

Than an ever present and yet sensory need

We are not the same

And that’s ok

Just let me sometimes go off

Just to breathe

Just for a minute

Just please

Once, a tanka

If there was one thing

I could only say ever

Once, it’d be to try

Innately human

A computer can

Skip a surface based stone

For sure

And far

In a very memorizing style

Even a good distance away

And yet

This human emotive spirit

To up and speak and understand (one another)

Is something so unique

And so innately special

That we cannot ever truly

Modernize, or modify, or innovate it

Away

Mentors

Mentors make a lasting impression

But the truth of who they are

Is often quite far

Living a good distance away

From who they truly are

And wake up each day

Trying to be

And be again

And that is ok

Just try, a tanka

One thing I would recommend

Is to breathe in snow

And exhale fog

Each morning until

You are centered again

A growing wish

A wish is this

Something you care for and grow

Until all of a sudden

It stands up right and walks

Never again to crawl below

And in that sudden moment

It is

And never will be

The same

For this growth has grown

And all that has been will be

And was

Rearranged

Like heartburn

Frustration burns

And fuels head shaking with

A soloistic understanding

Inside

Like heartburn

Step along for I care not

If there is one thing I’ve known

It’s not that I’ve learned too much

But too few

Of everything

But especially of

This inability to care

Step along

The distance from, is this

Youth and maturity

Are as far apart

As stars and seabeds

Pick one

Sink and swim

Or fly without gravity

You cannot have both

Just pick

How haiku flakes do fall

Snow will do that which

It was always built to do

And so it will fall

Geography in short order

Gray skies

And perspectives alike

Are in one way and the same

A mere symptom of

This one thing

Geography

A twisting turning haiku of mine

Manipulate this

Twist and turn yourself to that

Will never make whole

There are always fires somewhere in the forest

The day everything is perfect

The day everything is right

Will never come

Did not exist

A wickless candle

As day is night

They never mix

And never will

All days, a tanka

All days will so end

Just as all suns will arise

With the tides which ebb

And the flow of these most small

Subtle days which once arrived

Wildfire

Just as in

Your own personal life, a truth

You should know and understand that

Wildfires are always burning

Somewhere on the earth

There are embers glowing

Flames overflowing

And coals growing colder with every second

Until the daylight turns

And the nights due ensues

Though the games may live

So the rain arrives

Turning all the runoff into lye

Just as in your own personal life, you

And so must learn

Life is breath given

You can wait and wait

For your life to begin

Be it with calm or with a more volatile embrace

You can

At any time

Choose to live

So long by as you breathe and see

The breath before yourself outstretched

From your chest

Then what are you waiting for

What and what?

Gray skies, a haiku

Gray skies mean not blue

Cannot exist as this one

And wherein meets two

Stars and meteors

A heart of want

Wants most of all

What is in mind as mind

And desires to endure

And never fall

Much like the stars

But for a second

We are all

Safe until the sudden plummet

In becoming aware

And of the fact that were are just

Meteorites