Haiku Collection: #11
I bought myself a hanging egg chair for the front porch. It literally looks like a woven egg with an opening and you snuggle yourself in there onto a cushion and swing ever so gently.
I took my coffee out there this morning and just sipped and swung and thought about things. So many topics bubbled to the surface of my overthinking brain as I connected dots and then disconnected them to see if they fit a different way.
I would send you a photo but I didn’t have my phone, kind of like headphones at the ocean, feels almost sacrilege to have a phone in an egg chair while a single morning sun ray sneaks from behind the edge of my house to say hello.
You know what I mean?
Boundary-less
grey clouds moving in
an emotional storm comes
yet, whose clouds are these?
Veruca means ‘wart’
“i want it right now”
Veruca Salt stomped and yelled
greed, an infection.
Screen Time ≠ a Lifetime
are we alive here?
like really breathing a life
posting on these squares?
The Grief Gate
grief is a portal
no one ever told me this
feel it all, now more.
Binary Coding
i am not like you
i am more introverted
do i speak in code?
Solar Romance
the morning sun kisses
much softer than afternoon
yet, i yearn for both.
Inner Works
some days, poetry feels
like a movement of bowels
the release, relief.
Parasocial
a felt curious
wondering and watching them
is this normal now?
A Mother Reads the News
her heart breaks again
a crack here and then, shatter
hope feels confusing
Shelves and Selves
i look at my shelves
filled with self help and whimsy
a ven diagram.