IfI wereto writeevery dayfor onehundred days,would my soulbe purged ofthis malaise;is it a thingto be dredged,dragged up –twistedand tiedlike tatteredbed sheetsknottedtogether;is therea remedyfor thisscourge;or is thisan inherentrestlessness,a fiery bluespark of eternalangst ignitingpassion – a callto write? (Originally posted February, 2017. Image my own)
Expectations artificialliving in an urban junglelonging for nature’s calm – time moves too swiftlybarely registerlet alone participate We are guests in our ownexpectation’s dysfunctionlicensed for depression a smorgasbord for abuseintentions mislaid,disappointment unavoidable The ego pretends to be openbut she’s an actress off cueplaying out a sentence – condemned to basicspraying to escapethis dystopian malfunction. (Image […]
One Woman's Quest II 
What a delightful surprise to open your post and find those brown-eyed beauties and their haiku!
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So glad, Liz.
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🙂
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VJ, I hear a Van Morrison song coming on….”ooh, my brown-eyed girl.” Keith
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Now that you mention it, I hear it, too!
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That song might have been on my mind, Keith, lol.
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Lovely comparison!
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Thank you!
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I like this, especially the last line. Thank you for posting this poem.
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Thanks Geri!
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So good: “celestial flirt”
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Thanks!
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Beautiful! 🙂
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Thanks friend!
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You’re welcome friend! 🙂
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They are rather flirty!
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Always catch my eye!
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