Stillness is a word whose
L's flow fluidly in time, whose
embracing S's snuggle softly in space,
while it lingers in your mouth
misting out from your open lips
at the rate of your exhalation into the world.
Fediverse: @rajeshdhawan@writing.exchange
Don't you love it when strange haiku present themselves in your sleep? I do:
A butterfly knot will stay put on your foot for it cannot fly off.
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Counting down the days to the equinox,
chestnut and maple leaves have slipped into their skin-tight yellow bodysuits,
Like a trillion cubed slices of onion
tossed into a thin layer
of oil preheated in a frying pan,
drizzling raindrops of autumn
crackle and sizzle on my window pane.
Fediverse: @rajeshdhawan@writing.exchange
The lurking rock is neither crescent, nor half, nor full, and it emits
no light of its own, siphoning it off instead from the Sun only to pass it on to us under its own name.
So I ask Ludwig and Claude: Where’s the Sunlight Sonata? Where’s Clair de Soleil?
Fediverse: @rajeshdhawan@writing.exchange
Of the nine or ten chestnuts standing in Park Portheimka, you, along the northside,
have every single leaf edge ablaze in bright orange as if it's the middle of October,
advertently leading the way — weeks ahead of your time — rooted for by eight or nine kin.
Fediverse: @rajeshdhawan@writing.exchange
At 12:19 AM the city's silence lies pitch-black,
only a street lamp casts a cone of white-noise around itself.
Fediverse: @rajeshdhawan@writing.exchange
Blinded by the Sun's glaring floodlight,
how can we ever tell that the stars
we were questioning last night are now taking turns
interrogating us from behind the bright blue one-way mirror?
Fediverse: @rajeshdhawan@writing.exchange
You with your rust red torso and wings,
do you know you are barely visible against
the drain pipe where you perch?
Fediverse: @rajeshdhawan@writing.exchange
Four poems in 3-1-4 syllables
…
radius splits circumference
…
eyes stare at