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Double Exposure

Layers of reality

Feel the collision




Orange lantern eyes

reveal a bright wild soul

Beautiful Monster

Familiar Spirits

My eyes caress her

Silky fur felt in the soul

We’re familiar

Haiku, I Guess

It’s now December,

snow lies on the dandelions,

summer time is gone.

Little Fly

Fly on the wall,

poor little fly,

you woke to the call,

but now, my oh my,

there isn’t any food at all.

Your ploy, gone awry,

your rest was just a stall,

you’re still going to die,

’tis your end after all.

‘Twas worth the try,

fighting ‘gainst the pall,

but death gets us all.


Born out of time,

as ancient as fear.

Waiting, waiting, waiting

for the clock to strike,

for the bolt to click.

Peering through the keyhole-

visions of time, not yet right.


Timeworn beauty, old and young

Her face is known-

Keeper of Destiny,

Mother of Fate.

Her heart, heavy in her hands-

beating with the seasons-

’tis the key to every door.


She can feel the thinness of time,

the heat from the very flame of existence.

A thousand, thousand lifetimes

in the passage of a second.

She mayn’t control the river,

still everything is known-

the stream of time runs through her.

Missing Stripes

Would a tiger miss her stripes, if she couldn’t make them anymore?

Were her claws dulled and unable to score, would she miss the blood flowing from her own skin’s shore?

Would the wind miss her tortured roar? Or just go on blowing as before?

Would the sea miss her salty tear’s pour? Or would it go on swelling without one tear more?