Haiku 230 out of 1000
a quiet lake, still,
struck by two wooden paddles
dipping in and out
a quiet lake, still,
struck by two wooden paddles
dipping in and out
Infinite water,
from a bottomless, stone well,
the internet, still
Read another.
I take off my English
and put it on the coat rack.
It sits there, ready for my next trip.
I walk to my closet
With light steps
Unencumbered
I pull a cozy nightdress
A second, third, fourth language
Not fully feathered but comfortable
I settle in, my feet up…
simple paper folds
chiseling structure from planes
a wood pulp sculpture
Heavy-handed complaints
She laid them on me
I knew better than to try and put out the fire
Some fires need to burn
And tucker out on their own
I like her warmth
the condenser mic
waits to be fed vocal sounds,
stands at attention
Workshopping more haikus. For this one, deliberately breaks the form by having the second and third lines appear like continuations of the first line.
A little bit
of ink
unravels
over
pearly
smooth
paper,
settling in
the fine grains
Directed by
a flowing hand
a rotating shoulder
it proceeds
unperturbed
Written by Eashan Kotha. If you enjoyed it, please consider reading erode or Bright.
Neurobiology and film enthusiast. Aspiring physician. I love poetry too. Subscribe: youtube.com/@eashankotha